Megnut

Last night

I simply could not watch, especially after the Jackson/Damon collision. By the 9th inning, I was up, pacing from the living room, down the hall into the kitchen, and back. Again I used my filtering technique: hands in front of face, peering between fingers at the TV, eyes squinted so actual sight impaired by eyelashes. And I was even tempted to plug my ears, but I listened. I listened as Lowe pitched the third strike to Melhuse. 2 outs. "Just one more out, just one more out" I chanted to myself.

It's moments like these -- being a Red Sox fan -- that I can just see it all fall apart. Oakland's tying run is on third, their series-wining run on second. It could be over just like that. So I paced some more, back into the kitchen. My heart was pounding, and fast. There's no way to watch something like this: bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, 1-2 count. I just stood in front of my TV, hands before eyes, filtering again, watching but not watching. And then a called strike three on Long! Lowe erupts! The Sox erupt! I breathe again. Thank God for TiVo. I rewind a bit, sit back down, and watch the end of the 9th in peace.

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