Oh, Me of Little Faith

After the last business session yesterday evening, I returned to my hotel room, snapped on the television set and went hunting for the Red Sox-Tampa Bay game which, I figured, would probably be in the 5th or 6th inning.

I was not hopeful. The Red Sox had already lost three games in the best-of-seven series with the Tampa Bay Rays and one more loss would mean their elimination and send the Rays on to the World Series. I clicked through the channels with the remote and eventually up popped the game.

AAAARRRGGHH!

The game was the 7th inning and the Sox were losing 7-0. That’s it! No way they’re coming back from that. Too big a lead by Tampa Bay. Game over … series over … season over.

I turned the TV off, wrote up yesterday’s post, sent a couple of emails and went down to the Mexican restaurant in the hotel lobby for a bite of dinner.

An hour later I returned to my room, turned on the laptop and went to ESPN’s website to read the final gory details of the game.

Holy horse poop! The Sox had scored four runs in the 7th inning, three more in the 8th to tie, and one more in the bottom of the 9th to win it … the second greatest come-back in post-season history! And they did it all while was eating a beef burrito and feeling sorry for myself.

Tomorrow night, when the Sox and Rays meet for Game Six, I will once again not watch. I will sit in the Mexican restaurant and eat a beef burrito. Two, if necessary.

Anything for the Red Sox.