You Gotta Be Kidding Me.

One of the reasons I’ve hesitated to get into baseball is my husband is pretty annoying to watch sports with. Actually it’s pretty annoying to even be in the house with him when sports are on the television. Yes, he is a wealth of information, and I truly do appreciate that about him, but there are only so many times you can hear “you gotta be kidding me” before you swear off sports entirely.*

Hopefully Dave won’t read this post because there is one more thing I don’t understand about him and his relationship with the Red Sox. Now you bluehats get on pinkhats for becoming fans, say, sometime around Fall 2004. But what about you? You read all about a potential trade, get to know the player and his stats, and balk at the fact that the Sox don’t want to spend what he’s worth. Then when the Sox meet his contract requests, put him in a uniform, and let him take the field or step up to the plate, you start swearing at the Franchise (through the televisionphone) about what a sucky maneuver acquiring the player really was. That's a little fair-weather too, don't you think?

Example from my household: David Ortiz. Perhaps Dave forgets that he is not only vocalizing his opinions but actually scoffing at anyone who dares to disagree with him. Is selective memory one of the defense mechanisms BoSox fans developed during the bleak years from 1918 until 2004?

Sporstwriter Dan Shaughnessy touches on this in today's Globe. Fans were not feeling Jonathan Papelbon after a little mishap in the playoffs. Okay so the Sox were set to win when he got hit off of with 2 outs, 0 balls, and 2 strikes in the ninth. I guess it would have been more forgivable if he hadn't thrown the same fastball the entire inning.

But should fans really be rolling a red carpet out to the plate for Daniel Bard, the super fast (100mph) fastball pitcher? Papelbon knows how to switch things up with a split-fingered fastball because he did so with some frequency in 2006. And he has apparently shown up to camp with an expanded pitch selection. Not to mention he is the all-time save leader in Sox history.

At this point I'd like to present a list Dave created to explain how a pitcher records a save... it's a little above this newbie's head, but I cater to the masses. And to my loving, sweet, hunk of a husband who is going to be mad I started this post dissing him.

To get a save the pitcher's team has to win (duh... I think), the pitcher must have pitched for at least 1/3 of an inning, the pitcher cannot have started the game or be the "winning" pitcher. That leaves three scenarios where a pitcher can record a save. (1)The pitcher can enter the game with his team leading by three runs or less and pitch for at least one inning. (2) The pitcher can come into the game with his team leading and the tying run on base, at bat, or on deck. (3) The pitcher can pitch at least the last three innings of the game effectively. Yeah, I gotta come back to this in a month or two when I'm a little more baseball savvy.

Papelbon pitched two innings yesterday. And he did great. He threw 13 pitches, ten of which were strikes, and four of which were split-fingered (splitters), retiring the Twins in order, which I am guessing means he got out the batters 1,2,3.

But watch out Pap! There's soon to be a new fan in this house. Think we're gonna be quiet when you mess up? You gotta be kidding me.

*I've actually tried to count the number of times he says this in one game. I lost count around fifty in the first quarter of a UCONN game.