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The Road to the World Series: MLB Playoffs Thread!

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Miguel

Member
1st inning, no score.

Mike Scott was fucking nuts that year. Too bad he never got a chance to get to a game 7 in that series...he'd have probably no hit the Mets like he did to clinch the playoff spot near the end of the season.
 

Mashing

Member
both of you are idots saying anything derogatory about either team in that series... it was amazing... lets just leave it at that.
 

Miguel

Member
What did I say that was Derogatory? I was just praising Scott. :|

I wish I could find his no-hitter on tape or something. I'd really love to see it.
 

Mashing

Member
I still have the ticket for Scott's no hitter... I wonder if it worth anything? (my mother went to the game and saved the ticket for me).
 
any word on the weather out in New York? I heard last night Game 6 could be postponed due to rain. Im sure both bullpens could use the extra day of rest.
 

firex

Member
Miguel said:
Bagwell got 7 years, 120 million. What's to say Beltran doesn't get something similar?
I'm so late quoting this, but I really hope he does. I do not want to see Beltran go to some big money team.
 

Drek

Member
Seemingly everyone has lost sight of the fact the Yanks were pretty much expected to lose this series, and a home team in an LCS is suppossed to win.
You should check the odds makers. Almost every one of them had the Yanks as slight favorites to start the series (most giving a 55/45 percent chance for Yanks/Sox winning, some even more points to the Yanks).

What is it with Yankee fans and trying to talk themselves into being the underdog this year? Your team spends over $200M a year. You can pay the team that beat you in the world series twice over with the gap between you and #2, the Sox. You are the favorite every year with that payroll, if you aren't your management sucks. Hell, if you don't win the world series you did something horribly wrong, like this year when you loose it'll be because you traded for a patient, not a player, in Kevin Brown, traded an effective pitcher in low pressure situations for a guy who just can't pitch consistantly (Contreras for Loaiza), and never paid any heed to any facet of your team outside of star power and offense. Sorry, you can't win like that, even if you do spend out the ass.
 

Eminem

goddamit, Griese!
uh, on ESPN they said the Red Sox were favored in Vegas. I've heard that numerous times on different programs....



also, although it looks like a rainout....awesome article:

By Eric Neel
Page 2

Imagine you're Curt Schilling right now.

Imagine you're Curt Schilling today, this minute, with the ball in your hand and the curtain about to go up.


Schilling tested his ankle before Game 5.
You've been here before. The lights, the 100 million eyeballs, the pressure that comes with being the man and rising to meet the moment, it's all old hat to you.

You don't sweat the Yankee mystique. You remember October 27, 2001, and a certain 3-hit, 8-K night. The House that Ruth Built doesn't rattle you. You've left notches in that rubber like it was a belt around your waist.

You've got a ring on your finger and you snatched it from Georgie Porgie's ham-handed clutches.

And you can't believe your good luck. A few days ago you were done, your boys were done, you were rubber-necking a hideous postseason crash. But no, you get another shot. And like Freddie you're wondering, "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

You're Curt Schilling. You bring it. You throw heavy, diving balls and angry, screaming stuff. Your pitches come packed with purpose, wound tight with intent.

You won 21 games this year. You never give up. You're for the team -- you stand on the top step of the dugout when you're not standing on the hill.

You keep a notebook. You watch video. Nothing escapes you.

You take a tight-eyed look over the lip of your glove, let your breath fall from your shoulders and stretch the length of your arms, turn that broad back ... and deal.

You bear down. You bear up. It's what you do. It's who you are.

You're Curtis Montague Schilling and tonight's the night.


Back in April, Schilling wore his Yankee Hater hat at a Bruins game.

And everybody outside of New York loves you because you chose the underdog in this fight. (But, of course, that don't mean snot if you don't deliver now.)

This is what you came for. Not to achieve your own legacy (that's already done), but to be a part of a place and a people, to help write and re-write their history. You've been here before, with pinstripes in your sights and a quiver full of arrows on your back, but you've never exactly been here before, with the hopes and dreams of the faithful, and their parents, and their parents' parents, riding on you, with air kissed by curse and laden with anguish flowing in and out of your lungs with every breath. You wanted this, you sought this out, you reached for these people and they reached back. And now you're in. All the way in. You've been a part of this team all season, but tonight you become a made guy, one of the family, with all the rights and responsibilities, with all the risks and rewards, therein. You've been here before but you've never been here before.

Philly was hungry, but there wasn't near the same longing. And there was joy in Arizona, but they knew nothing of true pain.

You hang with The Sons of Sam Horn now.

And you've promised to shut some folks up.

You take the ball after two of the greatest games in team history. You take the ball after David Ortiz slapped it around the yard. You take the ball after a season considered nothing but a prelude to precisely this kind of moment. You take it after Grady left it in Pete's glove, Buckner let it get by, Spaceman gave it up, and George Herman took it and went home.

This is the game that makes you an icon, if you're up for it. Forget Yankee Killer or Big Game Pitcher. Try Redeemer on for size. Slip into Deliverer.

And you thought your stuff was heavy before ...


Schilling's T-shirt says it all. Now Game 6 is in his hands.

Imagine you're Curt Schilling right now.

Imagine knowing you've got to go long tonight, because there's no pitch count on you, and no bullpen behind you.

But that's all right, because it's in you. No doubt. You have that thing. You can summon it. It will drive you.

Except, what if the body doesn't cooperate? What if this alien form, that's aching when it ought to sing, that's betraying you, leaves you hanging tonight?

You have to put these thoughts out of your head.

You can't seem to think of anything else. There are doubts.

You're wearing a Johnny U boot and more tape than Swish had around her chest in "Fastbreak," your ankle's throbbing, bobbing and weaving like a marionette and bearing weight the way Jessica Simpson bears hardship, with a lot of whine and wiggle.

You stunk up the joint in Game 1. Your ERA is old enough to vote. You can't let things stand like that. This is a get-back game. Your boys picked you up the last couple nights, got you another shot. Now you owe them. Now you've got to steal a New York page and go Willis on the Yankees. More than that, you've got to go MJ with the flu, or Roy Hobbs with a bleeding ulcer. You need to write a storybook. You know that.

You also know Sheff and Matsui were turning your stuff around last time like a bouncer turns away math majors in coke-bottle specs at the door to a nightclub.

You know it's only Game 6, and even a lights-out performance here doesn't close the deal.

That really chaps you.

And you know, and this is what gets you most of all, that if you blow up tonight, if you lob balls up there the way you did in Game 1, looking like Ginger rolling craps in "Casino," or even if you're just unlucky, that they'll say it was the bloody curse. Or worse, they'll say the Sox just don't have what it takes, just can't take the Yankees.

And that'll make you and a couple million other people sick.

So you're Curt Schilling, and you've got all this swirling around inside your head tonight as you toe the rubber, work through your warmup pitches, and stare up into the thousands of screaming Yankee faces.

You're part indomitable spirit and part nerves that jingle, jangle, jingle; part seasoned champion, part new kid on the block.

And the beauty of it is, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else, and the Nation wouldn't rather have anyone else out there.

Imagine that.

Game on.


also, from the sports guy's diary:

Incredibly, unbelievably ... we were just getting started. Over the next six innings, the Sox tried to give away Game 5 over and over again -- popped-up bunts, botched hit-and-runs, 300-pound DH's trying to steal bases, knuckleballers throwing knuckleballs to guys who can't catch knuckleballs,

:lol :lol :lol
 
That was exactly what I was trying to convey. Feel sad for the poor poor Yankees. Now send money.

What I was trying to say that didn't quite make it across...

People generally felt the Yankees had a shit pitching staff and it would be a liability.

A lot of folks seemed to think Schilling would win 2 by default, and with Foulke in the bullpen - Pedro would have no problem the other 2. Fuck, I was scared of that and I'm a fucking Yankee fan.

Generally, home teams are expected to win on their home field. This isn't a new concept. This is why teams play to be #1..so they get one more game at home. I feel like McCarver explaining this.

It should not have been expected that Boston would roll over and die.

Boston not rolling over and dying doesn't make them the Bad News Fucking Bears. Tanner Boyle isn't playing second base and Kelly Leak's father isn't coaching. They're an awesome baseball team and they should fucking compete and it shouldn't be such a god damn shock that the Yankees couldn't close it out in 4 or 5.

All anyone see's is Yankee elitism. Next time my parents want to give birth to me, I hope it's in fucking Milwaukee. Then I can talk about baseball without the stigma of being a fan of a team that throws around money. I could sit here and babble about how awesome Robin Yount was and nobody would give two shits.

I give up, and will revert to babbling about how bad the Yankees are doing to keep myself from punching a wall every time Tony Clark misses the ball by 200 feet and Tom Gordon serves up a fat pitch to Ortiz.
 

Eminem

goddamit, Griese!
Man, Damon really has become a liability for this team. He can't do anything right.

...and Lieber hits Mueller.

HE'S WILD. SEND IN HEREDIA
 

Eminem

goddamit, Griese!
If I was Schilling I would throw some reeeeeeeeally bad pitches when no one was on on purpose to make the Yanks think he doesn't have it.
He's thrown 2 really bad ones so far....but he looks good.

BAM. Schilling has got it. I can tell after 1 inning. He's gonna pitch 7 shutout innings.
 

Eminem

goddamit, Griese!
:lol :lol :lol :lol @ that commercial


"Why is 6 afraid of 7?"
"Because 7-8-9" (get it? seven ate nine)


Nice play by varitek

come on bellhorn you scrub


see...where the fuck is pokey reese. cripes.



and it's funny...it's only the bottom of the 2nd, but the sox already have 1 out in the top of the third
 

Mrbob

Member
Good god, could Bellhorn be any more worthless? He bobbled a ball last night leading to a run and then grounds into a double play with the bases loaded and only one out.

Just strike out and let damon attempt to get a hit. At least he has been getting some singles lately, unlike you who strike out 50 percent of the time in this series. The one time you need to strike out if you make an out and you don't. Sheesh.
 

Eminem

goddamit, Griese!
YA TEK TEK TEK TEK TEK TEK
YA TEK TEK MUH FUCKAS



red sox have the lead in the 4th. they're fucked. it's curse time.
 

Mrbob

Member
Bellhorn with a big hit?!?! WTF.

FUCK YOU UMP THAT WAS A HOME RUN.

WHY DO THEY HAVE SIX UMPS IF THEY CAN'T GET CALLS DONE PROPERLY?!
 

Culex

Banned
OMG

The Red Sox are winning. Tell me this is a dream and that the Yanks aren't blowing an 0-3 series lead..........

I'm gonna go burn my Yankees hat if this continues.
 
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