Okay, so it's the top of the seventh, one out, Tribe down by one run. Kenny Lofton, who could tie the game, is running toward third with that look in his eye–- that Kenny look that says I am going to turn my forty year old legs into bullets. I am a speeding train. I will topple over Varitek. It will not be pretty, but I'm gonna do it. I am the wind. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Meanwhile, the ball is jiggling around the outfield. There might be a throw. There might not be a throw. What to do? Oh no, what to do?
Kenny is flying. Kenny could tie it. Yes, yes, he's got that magic. He's still got the magic. Him and Cleveland. All the way, baby. Go!
But Kenny doesn't have eyes in the back of his head.
Stop Kenny, stop! Let's be cautious. You'll be at third with only one out.
And at that moment, the Cleveland season ended.
Boston rallied and scored dozens of runs. Papelbon (how can you not like this guy?) got six outs.
So Boston won one game, then Cleveland won three games, then Boston won three games. Best of nine anyone? They might have Beckett figured out–-or not.
Good luck in the World Series, Boston, and pack your woolies, there's snow in Denver.