The pennings have been scribed expediently and furiously to chronicle the Red Sox' astonishing ascent from the grave by defeating the New York Yankees. Three more outs, and this team would continue to wallow in the marsh of despair that has polluted the city of Boston for almost 90 seasons. Three more outs, and the level of futility immersing this city and its beloved franchise would have reached a near cataclysmic pitch. Three more outs, but the idiots struck back.
Just take a quick glance at the cast of characters on this team, and no other term is more apropos to describe their World Series roster. Is there any more of an antagonistic nitwit in all of baseball then Pedro Martinez? What about the moronic defensive prowess displayed on a nightly basis by right fielder Manny Ramirez?
In fact, Little League coaches across the land shutter in embarrassment as infielders and outfielders alike botch the simplest of tasks. Even the much-heralded Curt Schilling could be described as a dunderhead for continuing to perform on the mound while blood seeps through his sutures, soiling his sock.
From Bill Mueller's holy glove, to Johnny Damon's Holy appearance. Tim Wakefield's ugly flutterball, to Miguel Cabrera's uglier than sin batting helmet. They are idiots, all of them!
However, I will stop short of calling them maladroit when it comes to winning baseball games. The mental miscues that have maligned this franchise in the past, have not even provided as much as a speed bump
on the road to the Promised Land (at least to this point.) The mark of a great team is to possess an ability to overcome adversity, and to quite simply find a way to win. The afore mentioned adage may be
outdated, but few teams in the history of sports have overcome more strife than the '04 Sox.
Lest we misrecollect the stellar clutch performances by some of the pinheads wearing red, white, and blue. Curt Schilling may be inviting vampires to purchase his socks in an ALS auction, but he is also
showcasing the fortitude and competitiveness that allows him to be classified as one of the top three hurlers in postseason history. Marky Mark Bellhorn has finally realized something magical can transpire when the stick he holds in his hands makes contact with the white sphere thrown in his direction. The same could also be said for Johnny Damon.
Undoubtedly, the most clutch performer has been the man they affectionately refer to as "Papi." The 1-2 punch of Ramirez and Ortiz has easily become one of the most feared tandems in the game, and the first closed fist hasn't been as devastating as it could be. Without Ortiz, the suicide rate in Boston would have surpassed the number of fatalities following the Orson Welles incident.
Before the two-buck Chuck is iced and the t-shirts are listed on eBay, let's remember this still is the Boston Red Sox we are watching here. As high as the boys from bean town are now, the bottom could still fall out without provocation or warning. However, I will admit it's starting to look promising that the spell could finally be destroyed. If, in fact, the curse will finally be laid to rest, the parade that will pervade throughout the streets of Boston will be led by a band of idiots.
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