To start, Arroyo gives up a double to Soriano, but Kevin Millar makes a great snag of a liner at first to turn two and bail his pitcher out.

SK: God, but ole Bronson looked shaky in the first inning, didn’t he?

I’ve seen tonight’s plate umpire before. He played the World Champion Blind Lady in a revival of WAIT UNTIL DARK. Oh well, 1–0 Sox [Johnny scoring on a Manny sac fly in the bottom of the first]. Go Bronson. But shave that goat.

That umpire is a serious Cheez-Dog. Hasn’t given pore ole Bronson one single corner. The A-man won’t live long against a hard-hitting club like this getting calls like that. He’s got 3 Ks through 3 2/3; with the same stuff (and the same ump), Pedro would have 7.

Benoit’s thrown okay as well, but in the fifth Johnny hooks one around the Pesky Pole, and while Benoit gets the next three guys, they all hit the ball hard. In the sixth, he loads the bases with no outs. Tek Ks on three pitches before Bill Mueller hits a sac fly, and here’s Johnny again, poking a wall double to score two more.

SK: Arroyo looks like the real deal tonight, don’t he? At least through 7.

SO: Make that 8. [As I’m typing, Johnny hits one into the Rangers’ pen.] And Johnny is just smoking. 4 for 5 with 2 dingers, 4 RBIs and 3 runs. I don’t know what Papa Jack did before the Oakland series, but it stuck. Come on, D-Rays! (They’re finishing the first half with the Yanks, of course.)

We win 7–0, and it’s a fast game, as quick as Pedro’s two-hitter against the Pods.

SO: And there you have it, a nifty three-hitter, with Curtis the Mechanic throwing a lean and clean ninth.

So, you think we’re really going to try for Randy Jo?

SK: I think we’d be fools not to try for him. Hey, what harm? Throw all the lettuce into the Saladmaster, and let’s have some World Series coleslaw.

We got four, I want some more—

SO: Hey, if John Henry’s buying…

And in a briefly noted roster move, we send nice kid Lenny DiNardo down to Pawtucket and bring up veteran righty Joe Nelson, who didn’t pitch at all last year due to injuries. He’s the twenty-second pitcher we’ve tried in the first half.

July 10th

We’re driving the kids to camp in Ohio, a nine-hour jaunt. As darkness falls, we’re on I-90 west of Erie when Trudy’s cell phone plinks. It’s her father, excited about the game: Manny’s hit two out and we’re up 11–6 in the third. Bellhorn’s made two errors behind Lowe, but atoned with a homer of his own.