Abe Alvarez leaves with the score 5–1. He hasn’t pitched well, but he’s battled, and for a double-A guy the beefed-up O’s are a tough assignment. Francona goes to a triple-A guy, Mystery Malaska, who gives up a run. Millar, who’s been booed every at-bat since he hit into an early rally-killing DP, crushes a two-run shot to bring us within three, but in the ninth Francona goes to Mendoza (our washed-up guy), and Mora pounds a two-run bomb to put the game out of reach.

All afternoon we’ve been watching the New York–Toronto score, 0–0 in the third, the fourth, the sixth. It’s been stuck in the eighth for more than an hour, as if they’re purposely withholding it. Now that we’ve lost, it changes to a 1–0 Yankees final. We’re nine back, the deepest hole we’ve been in all year, and 2-6 against the O’s.

After the game, as we’re fighting traffic on Storrow Drive and then 93 and 95, the Sox option Abe to Portland, making room for Ricky Gutierrez. Trudy wonders how much they paid him for the guest spot.

Between games, Bill Mueller, who went 0 for 5, decides to shave his head for luck like Trot and Tek and Gabe.

And the league office informs David Ortiz that he’s received a five-game suspension for throwing his bats the other night in Anaheim.

For the nightcap, the O’s roll out their kid pitcher with a high number, #61, Dave Borkowski. Gutierrez gets the start at short, Youk at third, McCarty in left. McCarty’s a revelation. We know he’s got a great glove as a first baseman, and an arm that can top 90 mph. In the first, he puts those together, snagging what ought to be an easy sac fly and nailing speedy leadoff man Brian Roberts at home with a perfect one-hop peg. It kills what could be a big inning, and in our half, with two down, he slices a bases-loaded single to right to give us a 3–0 lead.

Wake’s crafty tonight, or maybe the O’s are tired. Both teams are listless, and it’s a quick one. Youk hits a solo shot into the second row of M5. Timlin sets up with a one-two-three eighth, then Embree gets a double-play ball in the ninth, and a strikeout to close it. A neat 4–0 final, and it’s only 9:30.

It’s a win, but losing two of three to the O’s before the Yanks roll in is disheartening. Like Steve said, they’re miserable, and I’m miserable, and the rumors that we’ll trade Nomar while we can still get something for him are more miserable still.

July 23rd