I was at an elaborately upscale work-endorsed shindig last night, quaffing free booze and horrifying every woman in attandance with my patented “white guy shuffle.” Meanwhile, the Sox were knocking around Jamie Moyer, who, at 59, represents the Mystical Old Guard of this game we love. Once subduing Moyer by kicking away his cane, our boys grabbed nine runs on nine hits across the first two frames, pretty much sealing the deal for John Lackey.
But it wasn’t all “kill grandpa!” In the third, the crowd gave a nice ovation to another old dude, Tim Wakefield, recognizing his status as the guy who’s pitched more innings in a Sox uni than anyone else.
So we got to slap around an old man, then celebrate one, then walk away with the win, getting us one game closer to the end of inter-league play. Meanwhile, I made it through the bash without getting arrested or feeling up the VP’s wife.
Success all around, folks.