It occurred to me last night, after watching what seemed to be the seventy-fifth run of the game cross the plate, that this has the potential to be one long-ass, ulcer-inducing season.
Think about it: We’re less than one month in and we’ve got Bill Hall and Darnell McDonald starting in the outfield. Josh Beckett has apparently been bitten by a radioactive Brian Rose. I don’t even recognize that guy who calls himself “Jon Lester.” Jason Varitek with a bat in his hand is no longer the stuff of my nightmares. And Manny Delcarmen has become — God help us — one of the more reliable arms in the bullpen.
The f#$k?
What will things look like come July? Will Varitek have 32 home runs? Will Mike Cameron be planning his 2011 comeback? Will Timmy Wakefield have finally snapped and taken hostages at a local Arbys? Will John Henry’s wife be kicked in the head by a horse and come to the realization that no amount of monetary comfort is worth another glimpse of her husband’s horrible, horrible testicles? Will we be 27 games out or neck-in-neck for the division lead?
Really, right now, any of these things seems possible. Especially the Mrs. Henry thing.
Coming into this season, we didn’t know what to expect. And almost one month in, I still have no real idea who this team is and what it’s capable of. But so long as we get the W, I guess, even games like last night’s fudgefest are oddly bearable.
