Typically, when the Sox put up double digits in the first inning, my first reaction is, “Save some of those runs, motherflippers! Bank ’em for those nights we can’t get shyte off a Mussina or Lackey.” But for some reason, watching last night’s game, I really wanted to see ’em pile on the pain like fake meat on an Arby’s Beef ‘n’ Cheddar. An honest-to-joe ass-whipping, complete with fireworks, crossbows and a chorus line of Kirk Hammett, Synester Gates, Eddie Van Halen, Ace Frehley (in the Dynasty-era costume with cape), Tom Morello and Dimebag Darrell punctuating every run with some mad-ass shredding from atop the Red Sox dugout. In the fifth, with the Sox holding a ridiculous 12-2 lead, I figured it was time to put on my relaxed fit chinos, Reid Nichols T-shirt and start up the slow-drip Pabst IV. This, mon amis, was gonna be a laugher.

Of course, the Sox had other plans. Determined to make it interesting, they coughed up leads of 12-2 and 14-7, falling behind 16-14 by the top of the seventh and having me wondering if they were gonna run out of batting helmets before this f@#king game was over. If you had left the room to, say, make a sammich, bedazzle your trousers or watch a pirated DVD of The Dark Knight, then came back around the eighth inning, you would have choked on your own tongue in disbelief.

In the end, we were able to come back to win it by the preposterous score of 19-17. And thank God we did, because losing this game after scoring ten runs in the first inning would have constituted the single most embarrassing loss of the season–far, far worse than that game that was lost when a rabid camel burst onto the field and bit Lugo on the cock (which occurred in an alternate universe and, due to restrictions, wasn’t carried on NESN).

Here’s a coupla factoids to chew on from that marathon ass-fest:

— Youk struck out twice in the first inning, then went on to hit two home runs.

— The first four batters in the Sox’ line-up had 12 hits and drove in 14 runs.

— Ortiz missed his third home run of the night by a Twizzler’s length.

— On the day the Sox signed Paul Byrd, they were terrorized by Marlon Byrd, who had five hits and drove in three runs.

— Charlie Zink, who must’ve thought the team was giving him an early Christmas present with the offensive explosion in the top of the the first, surrendered 11 hits and 8 runs over 4.1 innings and left the game with a 16.62 ERA.

What can I say other than thank god it’s over, and thank god we won.

Written while listening to:

“Sugarbaby” by Morningwood
“All These Things That I’ve Done” by the Killers
“Shut Up and Let Me Go” by the Ting Tings