Game Two; the Boston Red Sox vs. The Colorado We’re-Just-Happy-to-Be-Heres.
Fox must have taken some solace in the highest ratings for an opening game in three years, especially given the bloodbathy nature of the previous night’s contest.
But still, what would this night bring? It was still the AL’s best against some guys. Would this game draw the eyes and the interest? Would it eventually to be pre-empted by a few episodes of Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?
Like the night before, the pre-game show, staged off the third base line, got things rolling. The Arizona Diamondbacks’ surprisingly skilled broadcaster Eric Byrnes has been a welcome presence in this otherwise unbearably superfluous filler. His insight into the Rockies is keen, especially given that his team was defeated by them in the pennant series.
Still, I can’t help but think that his sculpted bed-head, and focused, yet easygoing demeanor, is simply a precursor to his second career as an erectile dysfunction treatment spokesperson. Mark my words: At some point, his boyish mug will be the face behind some pharmaceutical marital aid in the coming decades.
Last night’s game was far less action-packed than Wednesday’s. Talk between Joe Buck and Tim McCarver ranged from players’ favorite bands, tragic car accidents, cancer-stricken high school football players, Rockies pitching coach Bob Apodaca, Bob Apodaca, and more Bob Apodaca. It was a perfect mix of conversation for a crisp New England night of baseball.
Then came the bottom of the fourth inning, and history was made.
Two out, runners on first and third. Speedster rookie Jacoby Ellsbury took his lead. With the third pitch to Julio Lugo, he was off and, sure enough, safe. A stolen base, the first of the series, the first in history that would net every single current resident and/or visitor of this nation one free Taco Bell taco.
I will never forget where I was when it happened. The day my dreams of frat boy-style satiety would become real. A full 1.25 oz. of seasoned, prison-grade beef, carrying enough salt to dry your nerve endings out. Fighting back as it was stuffed into a stale tortilla with a handful of wilted lettuce, some mealy tomatoes, moldy cheese, and a dusting of ground fingernail. God looked kindly on this country last night. He spoke though his vessel, and his word rang out throughout the land like, well, a bell.
The dream utterly culminated with Fox’s man in the stands Chris Myers’ “off-the-cuff” interview with Taco Bell COO Rob Savage, who, coincidentally, happened to be at the game. The world’s most generous man went on to explain how it would work, and it sounded something like this. On Thursday, Oct. 32nd, from 2:00 to 2:15 AM, participating Taco Bell restaurants, mainly those located in nearly abandoned mill towns and on off-shore oil rigs, will be handing out free tacos to the first eleventeen customers.
So, as it was in the fourth, it was in the ninth–a 2-1 Boston victory. Not the traditional pitchers duel the score would seem to indicate, but rather a lackluster game that used far too many pitchers. The whole works had a pall of crafted disinterest to it and the prospects for it getting much better are limited. At this point, it seems as though the only real suspense is if it is going to snow in Denver this weekend.
It’s fairly indicative of the state of this series that the most exciting thing to happen in nine innings of a world championship game was that some half-assed promotion would come to fruition. It’s also a sad state of affairs when this nefarious taco watch begins to dominate an American institution. Classic heroes of this game would be ashamed to know that the attention of its fans had competition from a company shilling artery- clogging slop.
Babe Ruth must be rolling over in his grave…all the while wishing he could jump on line for his freebie taco.
By Mr. Blogtober
Better known as Mr. Blogtober, Jim Cheney is a failed jazz musician who likes to write. The author of the TV-sports column “Idiot Box” in the now-defunct New York Sports Express, Cheney works in an industry with little or nothing to do with either sports or television.