The only good things I can say about yesterday’s loss to the Phillies are as follows:
1) It closes out this mercifully brief interleague fling.
2) Rudy Seanez struck out two and Julian Tavarez didn’t bite anyone.
3) It’s another five days until Lenny DiNardo pitches again. If he pitches for us again.
Other than that, who wants to focus on the negative? Certainly not me. Not when we’ve got Schilling vs. The Wanger tonight at Fenway Park. Not when Johnny Damon finally has the chance to connect with those fans who couldn’t give him the proper roasting during the last, rain-abbreviated Yankees visit. Not when there’s bright sunshine in the skies over Boston and Mike Lowell’s hitting .336. Not when I happened to uncover my slightly dingy copy of The Outfield’s Play Deep during a late weekend closet excavation. Yeah, that’s right. The Outfield. And while everything they’ve done since is of questionable quality [save for "My Paradise," a criminally overlooked single from their Voices of Babylon disc], Play Deep stands as one of my guiltiest musical pleasures. Actually, screw that. No shame here. I’m all about The Outfield. Can you hear that, buddy? That’s me, singing “All the Love in the World” while doing nothing to dispel the notion that white dudes can’t dance.
See you at 7:05, Remy Standard Time. In the meantime, feel free to advise of your own guilty pleasures. Er, musical, of course.