These west coast games are killing me.

Take, for example, last night’s horrific loss to the Angels. Around the two-hour mark, I started hallucinating. First, I thought I saw yet another Red Sox pitcher felled by a line shot, this one, thankfully, off the ankles. Then I could have sworn Mike Remlinger entered the ballgame and gave up five runs, although, as I think about it, that’s not so far fetched. I was clearly blacking out toward the end, which is right around the time I thought I saw Alex Cora warming up in the Sox bullpen.

Strange, strange things these west coast trips.