Sox fans love the 8th inning

I said the other night that no matter what else happened in this series, I would be glad to have my moment: a victory over the Red Sox.

I lied. I wanted a series win and last night, it looked like we had. Davis had pitched well, hitting his spots with his curve and his blistering 85 mph fastball. I thought he would finally get the win. And then Chad Qualls happened.

If you happened to be on the West coast at about the time Qualls took the mound, the crashing sound you heard was Diamondbacks' fans' hearts plummenting into their stomachs at the same time.

"Oh no," I moaned (if by moaning you mean IMing Trinity). "Not Qualls."

Qualls is a good reliever - as long as nobody's on base. Put him out there with runners in scoring position and he tanks. And tank he did. By the time Melvin yanked him, the Dbacks' 4-1 lead was a 4-5 deficit, one they would never recover with only an inning to work (not the Dbacks could have with extra time; our offense is still iffy, the team failed capitalize on several chances from Masterson and didn't add on any insurance runs).

Bob Melvin, you can add Qualls to the list of things we need to talk about. Right after we finish discussing Byrnes as a leadoff man.

Oh and a fun fact: The Brothers Drew are a combined 0-16. First one to get a hit buys the other a drink.

It's going to be J.D all the way, says Trin (because of course I have to put my two cents in). Surprisingly enough, I don't have a lot to say about last night's game besides GO RED SOX! Mostly because unlike my West Coast counterpart, I was relegated to tracking the game on ESPN's Gamecast, which just isn't the same. Reading about Pee Wee Pedroia belting one over the Monster doesn't even compare to seeing it. I mean, he's five-foot-nothing and weighs two pounds soaking wet, and when the announcers aren't talking about how defensively he's the second coming, they're talking about his short swing and his short stride and you start thinking, "Well damn, how come he's not still hitting off a tee?" And then you see him hit the long ball over that 37-foot wall and you're an instant convert to the Church of Pedroia.

Or maybe that's just me.

But at any rate, I didn't get to see it because ESPN did not get my telepathic request to broadcast the game last night, so I got to sit in front of my computer and read about it instead. So when the Sox rallied in the 8th, I watched the little dots on my screen move all around and watched our score go up and I was excited, but it's hard to muster up enthusiasm when all you have is names and numbers, even if your team is winning.

I also think that perhaps I am some sort of bad luck charm for Jonathan Papelbon, because the last two times I've actually been able to watch games where he's gone in for the save, he's completely blown it. Last night I couldn't watch, and he went for the save and totally got it. Don't ask me how that works, but that's the mind of a Red Sox fan.

Tonight's the rubber game of the series, which pits grizzled veterans Tim Wakefield and Randy Johnson against each other in the oldest pitching matchup in a Red Sox game since 1965. Combined, the two are 86 years and 252 days old. I get to watch this one, which is exciting because a knuckleball is always a fun time. Guys either get whiffed or get homers, and poor Kevin Cash scrabbles around the backstop trying to catch the thing like kids after the candy from a pinata. Games with a knuckler on the mound are as unpredictable as the pitch itself, and I kinda think the Sox have the advantage here, because they don't have to hit it. And I don't mind that one bit.