Scarlet Fever

A teenage girl's perspective on the Red Sox and everything else.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Avoiding Talking About Last Night...

Let's not talk about the Red Sox. I watched the Patriots game instead, then when that was over I watched the Sox but only until 11:30. I don't know how many of you readers are football fans, but I'm starting to think more and more about football season. Our Patriots look absolutely dominating. We won 41-0 last night, and we looked every bit as good as the score would suggest. As the announcers said about eighty billion times, this definately looks like a championship team. We are plowing down everyone in our path, and I know this is preseason, but the Pats are looking a whole heck of a lot better than the Sox right now.
If you wanna talk baseball, let's talk about my Indians. They are on a roll, though I know it's waaaaaaay too late in the season and they are definately not in contention, but they have won their last 4, and seven of the last 10, and did I mention they are playing the Tigers right now? They are finally looking like the team everyone expected them to be, led by my two favorite Indians, Grady Sizemore and Travis Hafner.
And if you're gonna force me to talk Red Sox, I'm not even going to talk about our bullpen/Mike Timlin/how much we suck right now. I'll talk about Manny. It really ticks me off how no one believes he is really hurt. I know he has an IQ in the single digits to go along with the maturity level of a six-year-old, but do you really think he would miss this much playing time because he was robbed of a single base-hit ruling? He's a major league baseball player, so clearly he must have worked his butt off to get where he is today, as did all MLB players. Would he have gone through all that if he didn't love the game? And if he loved the game so much, would he really want to miss this much playing time? I know what it's like when you're hurt and nobody believes you. Last year around this time I started feeling pain in my lower back, to the side. I kept telling my parents there was something wrong, I knew there was, but they assumed it would go away. After several weeks, I finally convinced them (they're both doctors) to bring home some test strips. As it turned out, I had a UTI, and had I left it untreated much longer, it would have been a serious, and possibly even fatal, problem. Luckily, my dad wrote me a prescription for some antibiotics, and I was fine. Another time, when I was in about first grade, I fell out of a tree and my wrists really, really hurt. My mom gave me some ice and just figured I was trying to play up my injury. That night I spent in agony, unable to sleep. In the morning I was forced to go to school, but my mom pulled me out towards the end of the day to take me in to the hospital just in case. Turns out both of my wrists were broken. Perhaps this is why it bugs me so much that nobody believes Manny. I know the MRI showed no structural damage, but it's obvious to me that Manny's hurting. It's a long, grueling season, and if he says he's hurt, he's freaking hurt!
Snyder on the mound tonight, to try and right the ship. (Haha, ship, Mariners, get it? No? Okay, sorry, that wasn't funny.) At least the Yankees have lost the past two also. Here's to a Yankees sweep and a Red Sox win!

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