Thursday Night Liveglog Club: Rays @ Red Sox, ALCS Game Five

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On March 5, 1770, five Americans fell to the heavy musket balls of the British outside the current location of the Old State House in Boston after a crowd of 300-400 angry Bostonians surrounded five British soldiers and taunted them with sticks, stones, and terribly harsh words.

On October 14, 2008, the Boston Red Sox fell to the moon shots of the Tampa Bay Rays 13-4 inside the current location of Old Fenway Park in Boston after a crowd of 38,133 angry Bostonians surrounded 25 Rays players and taunted them with... well, terribly harsh words, at least.

We see absolutely no reason to bring up both events. We apologize for any confusion caused by such scattershot correlations.

Le Massacre BostonLiveglog Nation, don't tread on us after the jump; your Game Five Rays-Red Sox liveglog will follow shortly.

8:07 pm: So what do you suppose the Seibu Lions did with the $51,111,111 they received for giving the Red Sox permission to chat with their li'l right-handed charmer? We're guessing derivatives, CBOs, and Hiram Bocachica. Fine investments, all.

Hiram Bocachica Fan ClubMan, we love baseball.

8:10 pm: Iwamura singles to left, the TBS announcing team declares Dice-K to crushed mentally already, and we're ready to sign off for the evening! G'night!

(C'mon... how can we take that seriou...)

8:12 pm: B.J. Upton crushes a ball over the Great Green Wall and it's Rays 2-0. Damn you, Buck Martinez!

8:14 pm: Oh, shuuto. One out. The TBS annnoucing team notices Boston's opponents for the first time.

8:17 pm: Little-known fact: Jason Varitek's 20-foot tall computer-generated card is currently outslugging the flesh-and-blood version. A long fly to center closes the book on the top of the first.

8:20 pm: Who spends more time in makeup at TBS: Frank Caliendo or Ernie Johnson?

8:22 pm: Having just ripped The Captain, Kotsay is batting behind him and playing first. Is there any confusion about why the Red Sox are down 3-1? (Yes, the pitching. It was a trick question.) Covelli takes a walk and I feel a bit disoriented.

8:26 pm: The first Fraggle-American major leaguer, Kevin Youkilis, walks to set up first and second with two down.

8:30 pm: Chip Caray turns a popup to center by Jason Bay into high drama ("MOTHER NATURE, HEED B.J. UPTON'S CALL AND BRING THE STITCHED OBJECT OF HIS AFFECTION TO HIS BREAST!"), but the inning ends regardless. End of one: Rays 2-0

8:32 pm: In other words, Barack Obama will not be thinking about anyone that can afford Fenway Park playoff tickets.

8:34 pm: Jesus, Cliff Floyd is still in the league, keeping it light? Does this measurement of his levity include the weight of his various casts and braces rookies have to carry for him on road trips?
Floyd the Bowler
8:34 pm: Floyd dribbles out. Enough of the fellow that interrupts the youth movement storyline.

8:38 pm: Matsusaka does his best Seven Samurai chopsticks imitation with his glove on a liner by Dioner Navarro intended for disfigurement.

8:43 pm: You know why it was a great time to steal? Jason Varitek's catching. Michael Gross could take second while delivering a life lesson to Michael J. Fox. President Bartlett flies out and let's bring out the bottom of the second for a trip around the block, shall we?

8:45 pm: Jesus. Guess whose television babysat him from the ages of 3-present?

8:49 pm: QuesTec hasn't changed the umpiring landscape already? That's unpossible! J.D. Drew grounds out to start us off appropriately.

8:53 pm: The Captain comes up with two out. After he bats, he will have Tennille behind home plate. HEY-OH!
Captain and Tennille8:54 pm: That was definitely a purpose pitch. The purpose? Explore the performance space. Kotsay singles and Francona's plan to have a second starting lineup becomes blindingly clear.

8:57 pm: Covelli strikes out to end the... threat? Did anyone feel threatened there? Maybe the second inning. Begone, two!

8:59 pm: Obama TV.

9:00 pm: Frank Wren has no use for your implied embargoes on baseball news during the playoffs.

9:02 pm: I cannot tell you how many times I've been handcuffed by balls around my ankles. (No, really; I can't. There was a gag order on the court decision.) Kotsay makes a decent play and gets his pride handcuffed by the TBS announcing team.

9:04 pm: B.J. Upton singles and Carlos Peña homers before you can say "reverse Tilde". Rays 4-0.

9:07 pm: Sweet Jesus and Mary Chain. Evan Almighty. Rays 5-0 and Francona didn't even wait for the ball to land before getting the bullpen busy.

9:10 pm: Floyd can't stop himself from shearing the half-inning to an end (ooh ooh) and Dice-K heads back to the dugout to see if he can get one of them there police escorts to Logan to catch the first flight to Narita International.

Air World magazine

(Seriously, people once thought this was a passable photo?)

9:14 pm: Two quick outs for Mini-Shortstop and Maxi-Papi. Got a tee time in the morning in Boca, fellas?

9:17 pm: Here on first base now! Here on first base now!

9:20 pm: Jason Bay again relieves the tension with a strikeout. You're safe with us, zero! After three, Rays 5-0.

9:24 pm: I see commenting has gone south. Needless to say, talking to myself is a strength. Navarro and Gross join you in the Cone of Silence for two quick outs in the top of the fourth.

9:26 pm: Stockard Channing's husband bloops out to Kotsay and a young St. Petersburg man's fancy turns to the champagne in the clubhouse through 3.5.

9:28 pm: The brief commenting issue explained:

9:30 pm: Kazmir walks another batter (and when did J.D. Drew get old, by the way?) and you had better believe this is not an eight-inning start from Scotty.

9:32 pm: That kind of 5-4 forceout defense makes you confident to throw into the batters and gives you confidence and... Kazmir has given up three walks in four innings. Do they know we can see the game, too?

9:35 pm: Varitek swings at ball four and it's somehow caused by Iwamura. Boggle.

9:36 pm: That wild pitch? Confidence in the defense of the backstop.

9:38 pm: Kotsay whiffs and four innings pass without disturbing the home scorekeeper's long winter nap. Rays 5-0.

9:39 pm: Obama Sexdrive.

9:40 pm: Iwamura swoops down on first with a walk and Matsusaka wins one free ticket to leave the season early. Ciao, bella!

9:43 pm: Okajima takes over for Matsusaka as required by three separate trade agreements with Japan.

9:47 pm: Thanks, Chip, for your keen definition of irony.

9:51 pm: Upton strikes out, Peña bunts at third in the shift to extend a wooden middle finger at the Red Sox, and Iwamura steals third to wiggle the middle finger in the Red Sox's bum.

9:54 pm: We would give our entire fee for this evening's festivities to see Iwamura attempt to steal home now that Longoria has struck out. You usin' the whole fist there, Doc?

9:56 pm: Carl Crawford grounds out and Scoop Jackson's favorite Geico commercial comes on to comfort us as 4.5 innings pass. Thankfully, the TBS crew is cut short from telling everyone to tune in to Grey's Anatomy.

10:01 pm: We stepped away to make popcorn. The fifth inning ended. Rays 5-0.

Fork in the Road

10:07 pm: Willy Aybar shows his selflessness and affection for the team by popping out to Kotsay and not drawing attention to himself.

10:08 pm: Navarro follows to Bay. This team just cares so much, y'know?

10:10 pm: Ditto Gabe Gross, but he also mentions on his way to the dugout how much he'd like McFly to make like a tree and get out of the top of the sixth.

10:11 pm: Props to the actor that has to emote to a laptop screen for a national spot. That's patently unfair. And dull.

10:16 pm: Youkilis' Uncle Traveling Matt just sent him a postcard. Kevin strikes out so he can get back to the bench to read it.

10:18 pm: If Chip Caray is correct, Scott Kazmir really regrets not widening Darryl Cousins' box tonight.

10:19 pm: Farthammer can collect his prize at the Customer Service tent.

10:20 pm: Two strikes, one popup and Rays 5-0 at the end of six.

Number Six

Noooo... don't end!

10:22 pm: Manny Delcarmen enters. Fans leave.

10:25 pm: TBS is listing the broadcasting cast and crew. That's never a good sign if you're Boston-lovin'.

10:28 pm: Which reminds us... Chuck Lamar doesn't deserve his own graphic unless it includes a mug shot from his arrest for crimes against baseball in St. Petersburg.

10:32 pm: A 10-minute Lamar interview... do you get the sense that TBS realizes this is the last chance at an exclusive this season? Maybe a little?

The economist from New Hampshire walks and Iwamura follows. Have we spoken about our huge mancrush on Iwamura? Now we have. We will dig following him in the Fall Classic.

10:33 pm: We're worried Obama has more money than sense.

10:34 pm: Papelbon's on in the top of the seventh with no out and two on. Let's see... how can we express this...

10:39 pm: Double steal.

10:42 pm: Upton doubles off the top of the scoreboard; the thieves get away scot-free. Rays 7-0.

Crying towel
10:45 pm: Is it possible to hold a coronation for a ray?

King Ray
10:49 pm: A 4-6-3 double play only brings the count to two outs, sending a runner to third. Really, if Papelbon was supposed to stop the bleeding, he probably should have left the aspirin on the counter at home.

10:52 pm: 5-3, Crawford. The top of the seventh ends.

10:58 pm: A double and an out. Yes.

11:02 pm: Then another out. (See, if you give them attention, they'll just want more.)

11:04 pm: First and third, two out. WE DON'T SEE YOU, BOSTON.

11:09 pm: ... we see you. WE SEE YOU, LITTLE DUSTIN. Yeesh. Rays 7-1. First and third, two out. (And, in case you missed it, B.J. Upton has a Season Pass on his TiVo to The Gun Show.)

11:11 pm: David Ortiz sends Grant Balfour back to the fourth line penalty-killing unit with a bomb to right. Rays 7-4.

During this pitching change, an admission: we were really away this half-inning because we couldn't find the video we wanted for the seventh inning stretch. It still applies, though, so... please enjoy Swedish country musicians covering... well, you'll see.

11:14 pm: I haven't seen this many beards since a Rock Hudson-Doris Day-Tony Randall movie.

11:17 pm: Youkilis flies out to right. Rays 7-4. End of seven.

11:20 pm: If someone succumbed to a heart ailment in front of Cal Ripken, Jr., in real life, he would take control of the situation and pull the person back from the brink with CPR administered using only his steely blue gaze.

11:21 pm: TBS runs what we believe is the first crawl advertisement all game for a possible Game Six. Just getting up the nerve, are we, TBS?

11:24 pm: Papelbon logs a strikeout. If we're Joe Maddon (or merely Gene Hackman from The Conversation), we empty the bullpen for the next two innings. The World Series starts Wednesday. All of them will get plenty of rest. Everyone pitches; everybody wins!

11:25 pm: Navarro pops out to center. Hey, so this MLB Network sign says "January 1, 2009". Is that midnight Eastern time or time zone-specific? 'Cause we're stayin' in to see history launched. Video killed the radio play-by-play announcer, baby!

11:27 pm: Strike three on Gabe Gross and someone in a Coast Guard jacket's gettin' an ass-whoopin'.

11:32 pm: Dan Wheeler hates his defenses vigorously and walks Jason Bay.

11:34 pm:
Rays 7-6.

11:38 pm: Would the team trainer please check the pulse of Joe Maddon? Put a mirror under his nose?

11:40 pm: Kotsay takes second on a double. Someone place a defibrillator on Maddon's chest, for Christ's sake!

11:44 pm: Covelli gets paid by the minute. 10 pitches into the at-bat and he's still wigglin' his ass for national TV.

11:47 pm:
Adrenaline needle
7-7. Covelli gets tossed out on the way to second but not before Kotsay scores. You were too late, Travolta! Too late. End of the eighth of many innings to come... or not.

11:51 pm: Masterson and Cash... what an awful sequel that was. Next time, just pay Tango.

11:52 pm: President Bartlett takes first on a single to Greenland. Now we get to see if Maddon's wax figure can make signals to the third base coach.

11:54 pm: The hit and run from Iwamura fails when he doesn't complete the former, instead popping out. One down.

11:58 pm: Ball four to BeeJay. The Bear (aka Reverse Tilde) steps to the plate.

11:59 pm: ... and promptly grounds into a double play. Shall we dance in the bottom of the ninth?

12:03 AM: Your traditional 5-6-3 putout on Pedwoia.

12:04 AM: So if he doesn't bunt here, does he hate his team and Peña loves his?

12:05 AM: Question answered.

12:06 AM: Strikeout. Loves his team but not enough at the moment.

12:10 AM: Past a Fraggle's bedtime, which explains the groundout to third. Not explainable: the throw to third. It ends up in the first base seats and the hands of a man still wearing a tie after midnight while not hosting a supper club. Second base, two outs. Bay will be walked to set up J.D. Drew's shining moment.

12:12 AM: After a near-decapitation, a Joe Maddon sighting! We assume he was wheeled out on a dolly.

12:15 AM: Iracane has the shrimp up in the pen.

12:18 AM:
Don't tread on me

Well done, gentlemen of Boston. We'll rank this somewhere between "Gesundheit" and "Shut up and deal" in famous final lines. In lieu of flowers, please send donations or used eyeglasses to the Lions Clubs in the name of Joe Maddon's tactical acumen.

Another liveglog Saturday; you think it'll be worth checking in? Maybe a bit?

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West Coast denizen Tuffy will be here any minute now to guide us through the liveglog. Please adjust your sets accordingly.

Holy crap, they let Schilling back into that place? Isn't that why they hire security?

Schilling just posted a new blog entry: "How I would have thrown that 2-2 pitch better than Dice-K if the Sox didn't fuck up my shoulder surgery."

Aki Iwamura won the early battle of the sideways virginias.

Another jack-o-lantern for Beej Upton! Holy moses smell the roses.

Half the crowd just left the stadium.

Don't lose hope, Red Sox fans, before our guest-glogger even shows up.

Oh, Tuffy is here! Whee!@

So does that make Scoop happy>

TBS shows us the men who will be fielding when the Rays don't put the balls over the walls.

BTW, that's the best photoshop ever in Walkoff Walk history, and it's not even close.

Thanks, but the Hiram Bocachica Fan Club is real.

I only use MS PAINT so my cut and paste jobs are above your petty insults.

I use Mario Paint

Big gap in left center for Youkilis if he can fill it. That's what she said.

I use Mario Paint to compose music

If I had any idea how to hyperlink, I'd Mario PantRoll all of you you.

If you can't throw out gimpy Cliff Floyd, you might as well hang up the glove and become a designated girlyman.

Matsuzaka is no doubt one of Darren's Roll Models.

Dice-K, Kung FU defense.


Who's the black dude next to Cliff Floyd?

Rip Taylor.

Cousins' strike zone is the size of a shoebox. Also the size of a shoebox: those hideous eyeglasses.


Cousin's was possessed by the ghost of Eric Gregg

Also the size of a shoebox? Upton's johnson in these playoffs.

What? I said size, not shape. That would be weird.

Are you implying that Cousins bathed in a 55-gallon drum of butterscotch before the game?

Kazmir's pitch count after 2: 90,000

Budlight Lime...weird. Imagine taking a corona and adding 40 limes, and you have a BL Lime.

Someone's been slipping crack cocaine into Matt T's oatmeal.

Crack cocaine...weird. Imagine taking regular coke and adding that Japanese baseball videogame, and you have crack cocaine.

Tuffy, I expect you to come up with a 1980s television character for each of the 25 men on the two rosters.

Who got super hot ass in the 80s? Sam Malone? Ok, he can be Kotsay.

Ooh ooh, now do "Sunny Delight", Farthammer.

bye bye baseball.

To this day, I don't know a single person that would choose Sunny D over purple stuff.

The fuck is juice. gimmie some purple drank


Bye bye baseball again.

Sunny D...weird. Take orange juice, add crack cocaine and 40 pounds of artifical sweetener, and you have Sunny D.

To this day, I don't know a single person that would choose Sunny D over purple stuff.

Jesus the Sox are getting sodomized.

Evan Longoria = Ricky Stratton on Silver Spoons

Spoiled dickwad.

Sunny D tastes like orange juice strained through a jock strap

I love double posts after you try and edit the first one. I need to calm the fuck down.

B.J. Upton is Willis Jackson. This fall on NBC.

Farthammer? Calm? Is the world ending?

Joe Maddon is Mrs. Garrett. Wait no, he's Beverly Ann Stickle.

Isn't Maddon's awful managing supposed to turn Kazmir into Chan Ho Park or something?

Dioner Navarro would have no role on the current Yankees, sadly.

According to Martinez, a catcher is only valuable on a championship team.

I'm still here El Guapo!

Its been going south since day one.

Catchers are also valuable to the packages of home plate umpires everywhere.

I had a phone call, sir Tuffy. That blasted telecommunication device!

Its been going south since day one.

That's what SHE SAID OH

I got an error message on one of my comments, Mr. I, but the comment went through anyway. I figured others were getting The Jam.

Mike Timlin is totally Cliff Claven.

Our Movable Type system is for the birds.

Movable Type...weird. Take MS-DOS 2.0, add Sunny D, and you have Movable Type.

Terry Francona is kinda sorta David Addison.

Garza just asked the Sox fans to visit

That's a very strange website.

Iwamura is Airwolf. The helicopter.

"This year's SuperBad!"

What does that even mean?

Hopefully, it will have significantly more penises.

German techno. Good call.
I need some pink pants.

yay! Comments go thru!

Folks, if you have comment issues, email me. I promise not to berate you.

I have comment issues, but for another site. I think I hate TheBigLead's commenters. Can I still e-mail?


I have issues with comments from coworkers. Can I still e-mail?

I have issues with comments in bed from my fiance. Can I still email?

I'm so disappointed in myself.

Meta boom, bitch

Youk at bat.
Dance, pig.

I have issues with comments that lead to comedy pyramids. Can I still e-mail?

Hey, Tuffy is funny. Rob, you make great choices for guest commenters.

When do they start showing disappointed celebrities in the stands?

Chelada: the most shockingly tasty beer-thing I have ever tried.

@The Colonel

Rob isn't in Boston tonight.

I don't wanna Schrutebuck; I wanna go to his cousin's beat farm and wrestle Mose.

Tuffy Liveglog brought to you by the Number Six. Followed closely by the Number Nine.

Chuck Lamar makes my ears tired.

Did he say they believe in make-up?

Lamar owes his whole career to Wormser and his mastery of aerodynamics.

Chuck Lamar is Phillip Drummond.

Papelbon in the 7th with 0 outs? Enter desperation mode for the Sox.

Don't forget to bring your towel

Yoink x2.

and that's why Jason Bartlett is the RaysMVP.


Too bad Fenway has that retarded wall; otherwise that would have been a popup and only one run scores.

If the bottom of the 7th features Dave Roberts stealing a base I'm gonna be pissed.

"Shipping Up to Boston" should play as Pena walks.

Trust me, go with Ray Luv instead. The guy used to live with Tupac and can rap like a motherfucker.

I was hoping for Sugar Ray.

If the bottom of the 7th features Dave Roberts stealing a base I'm gonna be pissed.

Story of my life.



A Bloop and a Blast, or How Chip Caray Lost His Virginity

Ten years later, Chip Caray still gets giddy at the blast.

Papi smash!

Well, shit.

I was about to make a "You're down six runs with two outs in the bottom of the seventh, Sox fans. MANNY RAMIREZ IS NOT WALKING THROUGH THAT DOOR, PEOPLE." joke but David Ortiz ruined the punch line.

You'd think if any pitcher would walk batters, his name would be Balfour.


South Boston Superman.

These Brooke Shields VW ads are weird.

Claire, true, but Brooke makes me feel all farfignuten.

Hey Clare - did you hear about the Phillies?

No, Honeynut, what happened?

I just blacked out for a moment.

Are the Mets still in first?


"I like baseball" sign is the best thing I've ever seen in life.


Sign of the night. No! Wait! Sign of the century.

Beast has taken over Rob's computer.

They're pitching with the wrong Wheeler.

If the A's cast you off, you go on to postseason success with other teams. Damon, Dye, Kotsay...

Matt Stairs. Don't forget Matt Stairs.

... Stairs...

How about Scott Brosius?

And John Jaha, who helped the Kinderkamack Wisenheimers of the North Jersey Beer Softball League take the championship in '05.

Matt Stairs is Kirk from Dear John.

Matt Stairs has proven he is the greatest pinch hitter of all-time.

[holds up sign]

"I hate baseball"

Did my grandmother make that throw?

A dead retarded squirrel could have made a better throw.

That throw was Gross.

holy effing crap.

In Germany, he would be called Gabe Groß and he would be whipped with leather straps for his inefficiencies.

This is a somewhat surprising turn of events. I only regret that Chip Caray is involved.

Crisp's at bat in the last inning was positively Brett Myers-esque.

Yes Clare. Crisp really smacked the hell outta that ball. Taught that ball who's boss, if you will.


Nice squirrel reference.



This game is fucking unreal.

You just know Craig T. Nelson will have be heavily involved in who wins this game.

I just turned into a pumpkin cheesecake

You're packed with butter and will go right to my hips, but I can't resist just one slice.


Sounds messy. Did you not see the dessert before you made the turn? Do you get insurance points for a ticket like that?

IF I got on the subway now WILL I make it home with this game ongoing?

How'd this glass wingtip get here?

bipity bopity Youk!

A glass wingtip? You gloggers are so fashion-forward. I'm still wearing cordovan.

Exile on Bloor Street: Lloyd's Long Ride Home

Elvis CostellJoe is not impressed with the play from the rook.

I don't know what just happened but ROOKIE MISTAKES...VETERAN BALLCLUBS....GRIT...SCRAP

That's not unconventional logic, Chip. That's stupidity.

JP Howell's Yahoo mugshot makes him look as though he spends an inordinate about of time at the mall.


See you bitches Saturday.


I just ate the shrimp. THANKS FOR A GREAT GLOG, TUFFY!

Really Rays? You go sleep in that bed you just shat.

Solid work, Tuffy. Don't step on the Doozers on your way out.

Whatever. Let it go to seven games. Let them beat up on each other.


I wonder if we'll be informed of JD Drew's alma mater at some point tonight?

thanks Tuffy.

Massively successful glog. Amazing work.



UCF, I think. Either that or Lynn.

J.D. Drew matriculated at Boras U.

Basketball is a fun sport

Some people would call this glog "multimedia brilliance from the smartest alien's earhole."


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