Fire and Ice

G-Man says that the Sox needed to show some fire in their series with the Angels. Good suggestion; and Wednesday night’s come from behind, 9-8 win seemed to display just that – fire. Down three runs early, the Sox rallied to take the lead, or tie the game, three times in the late innings. Their two run rally in the bottom of the ninth came after the first two batters had been retired in order. Several times they found themselves down to their last strike. So G-Man’s advice was well taken, and brought the Nation an exciting, if sloppy win.

But more important than the fire has been the ice the Sox have used to cool off opposing hitters during this home stand. Over the prior four games, the team had given up a total of three runs. Beckett, Buckholz, Lester and Dice-K (that’s right, even Dice-K) shut down first the Rays and then the Angels. The latter two tossed fourteen shutout innings between them. I’m not saying that this one homestand proves that the pitching staff is back to where it needs to be, and I know that everyone has performed better this year in the friendly confines of Fenway Park, but at least this is an indication that the starters retain the potential to keep the opposition’s run production at an minimum, allowing Boston to win if it can push even a couple runs across the plate.

Last night’s loss was unfortunate, but at least the pitching remained solid. Beckett would have gotten out of the seventh inning, and would have held the Angels to only two runs over eight innings, had Tek not let that third strike get away from him. Instead of the third out, the Angels scored to tie up the game. Same thing with Wagner’s run, which resulted from a walk, a stolen base, and a bloop single. The Angels deserve credit for playing small ball, and taking advantage of Boston miscues, pretty much the reverse of Wednesday night, but holding that lineup in check was a good sign.

One concern as we find ourselves in the second half of September, is that the team still isn’t completely healthy. V-Mart was off for a couple games, although it’s unclear whether that’s because he got banged up blocking home plate a couple games ago, or because he had to go home to Cleveland to deal with some unspecified family matter. Youk too has been out of the line-up, this time with back spasms. That could be a minor matter, and we could see him back in the line-up any day, or it could be a nagging thing that bothers him all through the stretch run. Let’s hope not.

Meanwhile the Rangers have helped out by cooling off, way off, dropping four in a row, and giving the Sox a six game cushion for the wild card, even with last night’s loss. There’s seventeen more games in the season, including a ten-day road trip with games on all ten consecutive days. Let’s hope that Boston keeps playing with fire, as G-Man recommends, and that the pitchers keep the opposing bats cool, real cool, somewhere close to absolute zero.

A Glimmer of Hope

This weekend gave everyone in the Nation a glimmer of hope for October. Three consecutive quality starts from Beckett, Buckholz and Lester. Only two earned runs surrendered over three games to Tampa Bay's potent lineup. Even Longoria was held in check. Combine those three great pitching performances with some timely hitting, and the result was that the Sox walked away with a sweep of the Rays, and a three game lead over the Rangers for the wild card.

Most encouraging of all was Beckett's performance in the first game of the series. I know he didn't have to go late in the game, because the weather ended things in the sixth inning, with the Sox way in front, thanks to that eight run inning. The baseball pundits have offered a variety of explanations for Beckett's troubles of late. He's not hitting his spots (mlb.com); he's not getting on top of the ball (Rico P); or more simply, he's giving up truckloads of home runs. I know one decent start doesn't mean that he's turned his season back around; for all we know, Beckett is hurting and playing through the injury. But at least it was a huge improvement over the past month, and a reason to hope that, by October, he might be able to return to that dominant post-season form that we all remember from 2007.

Lester meanwhile has become the ace of the staff. His W-L numbers aren't all that impressive, because too often the Sox haven't given him much run support. But other numbers give a better indication of how he's going this year. Like the fact that he has over 200 strikeouts, and only 57 walks. Or the fact that 13 of his last 14 starts, he's gone six innings or longer, giving the bullpen some badly needed rest. But if Beckett returns to form, he and Lester would give the Sox the best right-left combination they've had since 1986, and a formidable anchor to the staff in any short series.

Buckholz seems to be back; and he's finally beating someone other than Toronto. Who knows what happened last year? All I really care about is that when Buckholz is on, as he was today, he gives the Sox a third solid starter.

And as long as we're passing out plaudits, how about some props for V-Mart? That guy can hit. Remember how he ate Schilling alive in 2007, and how many guys can say they did that, especially in the post-season? I also like that he comes up big when it's needed most. Late inning RBIs, particularly in close games. Same for Billy Wagner, who so far at least, has looked like the Wagner of old. Can't have too many arms in the bullpen this time of year, even if the starters go late into the game, and the relievers get some rest. Our pen was dominant early in the year, but seemed to get tired after the All-Star break. I like that Wagner gives Tito another choice in close games.

As of tonight, there are twenty more games in the season, half at home, where the Sox are playing well, and half on the road, where they continue to struggle. I think if they can manage to go .500 on the road, they'll have a good chance to be playing in October. And if they make it to October, they'll have the Angels and the Yankees with them in the playoffs. Just like old times. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, with the Rangers playing well. I mean look at how the Orioles took two of three from the Yankees this weekend. My point being that anything can happen between now and October. Let's hope that what happens is that everyone in Boston stays healthy, and that a healthy lineup gives us a chance to play with anyone in the post-season.

How Guys Eat

Often, when I'm home alone, I get together with my buddy, Ted. Sometimes we go out for a sandwich, and then stop home to have a couple scotches. Other times we might fire up the grill, and then enjoy a dram or two after dinner. This week, Susan was away, and the weather was perfect, so I told Ted, and our mutual friend, Larry, to stop by and we'd cook steaks.

So I went to Wegmans to pick up three steaks. One of the butchers was standing in front of the meat counter with his arms crossed. "Whaddya need?" I told him I wasn't sure; that my wife was out of town; that a couple guys were coming over; and that I thought I wanted to grill some steaks. "Wife away, huh? Guys night out. I've got these nice porterhouse." He was right; he did have some nice porterhouse, about an inch and a quarter thick; they were sizable, generous steaks, but not too much for one person to eat. All in all, it was about four pounds of steak, or a little more than twenty ounces per person. The butcher was into the whole idea, and gave me a great price on the porterhouse; and he told me to have a good time with my buddies. I was half expecting him to invite himself over to join in the festivities.

I also picked up a loaf of bread, and some stuff to munch on first. Bit of salami, some lomo, provolone, roasted peppers and artichoke hearts. But when I got home, I figured I should round out the meal with a starch, and I found some wild rice mix in the pantry, and a salad. Nice well balanced meal. Bottle of red wine, a blend from Argentina, very good with the steaks. I made up the dinosaur red rub, and with Susan away, I used the full amount of salt that the recipe called for. We don't usually get to eat much salt around my house, so this was going to be a treat.

The steaks were fabulous; the rub made them mouth watering, literally. Everyone ate every bit of their steak, right down to the bone. And we ate pretty much the whole loaf of bread. But not the rice. In fact if it wasn't for a single spoon of rice that Ted took, really to be polite, there wouldn't have been any rice eaten. Same for the salad. No one put any salad on his plate, although we picked at a pepper here, or a tomato there. When we were finishing up, Ted apologized for not eating anything but the steak. He figured I felt bad; that I had gone to the trouble of cooking rice, and making a salad, but no one ate any of them. I told Ted not to worry. It was just market research; I just wanted to see what everyone liked and didn't like. And next time we do this, I said, the hell with the rice, and the hell with the salad. I'll buy a loaf of bread, and maybe some stuff to munch on first, but we'll eat steaks, washed down with red wine, and we'll drink scotch after dinner, and we'll forget about all the non-essentials.

Oh, I almost forgot. We smoked cigars with our whisky after dinner. Just how good is a scotch, especially a smoky Islay scotch, with a cigar, after a steak dinner? That covers all the important food groups I can think of.

Whisky Lovers

Whisky lovers really need no excuse to enjoy their beverages. A Wednesday night, like this one, with no particular reason for celebrating, is as fine a night as any other to enjoy a glass of, let's say, Bruichladdich or even Bunnahabhain 18. In fact, you could say that the glass of malt whisky becomes the occasion; an empty glass about to be filled, a bottle of malt waiting to be poured, and fifteen minutes with nothing else in the world to distract you -- That's an occasion for celebration right there.

Having said that, it's still more fun to drink good whisky in the company of others who enjoy their spirits. And for that reason, we held the second annual Whisky Lovers Ball last week, in its traditional venue - my backyard. The menu included the usual red meat (this year we grilled butterflied leg of lamb and served it with a chutney glaze), red wine (Malbec and a California Cab), smoked fish (that had been prepared in the bullet the weekend before), and a bottle of Wagner Riesling Ice Wine, served with two versions of Susan's signature pecan pie. In a generous concession to the ladies, I served a bottle of Proseco with the appetizers, giving the gals the choice of a Kir Royale if they wanted a touch of glamour. One of the gals, apparently familiar with our reluctance to serve white wine, brought a bottle of chilled chardonnay, which I was happy to pour, in an effort to display tolerance and a touch of gender diversity to the proceedings. (But honestly, white wine at the whisky lovers ball? At least no one asked for a lemondrop martini.)

We poured a selection of outstanding malts through the evening. Stacy fell in love with the Aberlour 16, which I must admit, is a wonderful standard bearer for the Speyside malts. I opened a Macallan 17; my friend Tony was drinking HP18; and I offered Dr. Ron a pour of A'Bunadh, because he's a bourbon guy, and that malt is so rich and caramelly that it resembles some of the better bourbons. After dinner, we went smoky, and drank Lagavulin, Laphroaig, Talisker 175, and even a touch of Ardbeg Uigeadail. Everyone went crazy for the 175, but how surprising could that have been?

A couple weeks ago, before disaster hit, I was at Danny's and told him that there are only two places in Rochester where I really love to drink malts. His house and mine. I mean Rochester is not New York or Boston, and we don't have any Keens or Last Hurrah. So while there are plenty of spots where one can enjoy a glass of good whisky, there's no place in town where one could start the evening with Macallan's 17, and then finish things off with an incomparable pour of Talisker 175. Which makes me realize that the day is almost done, and before long, on a Wednesday night, we'll have another one of those occasions when a bartender pours some scotch into a glass, neat, and the party begins. Cheers; salute; l'chaim; here's looking at you, kid.