on the great papi 10.19.04

like hethalouise, i still believe. i still believe. i still believe.

and i will more often read soxaholics. almost as good as bat-girl, who still loves her papi and anyone who lays the 2 x 4 to the yank-these.

if you haven't heard, the red sox have unbelievably walked a razorblade thin line, looked over the precipice, and remembered they do-not-give-a-f**k. down 3 games to 0 to the hated yank-these, they re-measured their sacks and played some actual baseball, despite the worst efforts of their starting pitching to do otherwise-- except for derek lowe, surprisingly.

the loud bomb in this resurgence (which this gentle writer hopes continues with mr. schilling pitching in the rain and muck, bite plate in his mouth when his new reebok shoe --ode to the shoe here-- doesn't stop the ankle pains) has been david ortiz, the genial and fun locker room also known as papi.

since an inquisitive mind can find anything online, i found a forum of twins fans talking about papi. he was the DH in the metrodome until they let him go; last year with the red sox, he played well and this year he isthe hard hitting 41 home run, 139 rbi plausible MVP candidate that co-powers the sox (where have you been manny ramirez?) what's funny about the twins is that they let him go in part for financial considerations and in part to let mienkiewicz and matt lecroy play.

i think i saw different games than they did; papi might have struck out a few more times than i would like. he got injured a few times. but damn, when he hit the ball? that thing starts bouncing. you've seen the man, he is the reincarnation of the man who ate mo vaughn. he cannot run, as evidenced by his stolen base (where he was safe) last night. but he hits doubles. that means he is killing the ball. smooth stroke, great power...

i could have told them he'd be the man.