I am so in love with David Ortiz today. He saved the Sox with a gorgeous homer Sunday night, and then he did it again last night, with a tieing homer and a winning single! And he was having such a bad time of it before that single, too. First the ump counted a ball as a strike, which meant a strike out, but he totally didn't swing around. Then, when stealing second, he tagged the bag before Jeter tagged him -- replay after replay after replay, from every angle, proved it -- but he'd already been called out.
My gift to the Sox continues unabated; they only score when I'm watching. Last night, I kept an eye on the score at work until I had to go home. It was 2-1 Sox when I left. As I walked home from the subway station, I heard lots of horn honking and firecrackers going off, and my heart sank. I feared the boys had lost while I wasn't watching. When I got home, I ran upstairs, turned on the tv, saw the score was 4-2 Yanks, but it was only the 8th inning! I hung up my coat, sat down on the couch, and BAM! Ortiz hit a homer. Seriously, just like that. Me and Papi together, we could win this thing. I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the week, so I can keep a close eye on things...
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