•Ole Miss is trying to crack down on students chanting "The South Will Rise Again" at the end of one of their fight songs. With an anemic four touchdowns in SEC play, it makes you wonder when they heard the fight song enough to criticize.

•The Angels shook off a seventh inning Yankees rally with one of their own, and sent the series back to New York, where it's supposed to rain all weekend. At this point, the ALCS will end sometime around game three of the World Series.

•Looks like Bud Selig's watching the playoffs closely, even if the umpires aren't. Baseball will announce that only veteran umps will work the World Series, breaking with the tradition of including one first-timer. I'm not sure this is the answer. You know who has worked a World Series game? Don Denkinger.

•Liverpool's team shop has sold out of beach balls, and they plan to search Man U fans for them before Sunday's match. Actually, I don't even have a comment. That's pretty damn hilarious.

•Frank McCourt has fired his soon-to-be ex-wife from her position as CEO of the Dodgers. Well, shit, if all it takes to get a nice severance package is to sleep with the boss for 30 years...does someone have Nick Denton's number?

•Caroline Wozniacki was up 7-5, 3-0 when bettors around the world began putting money on her opponent. Wozniacki then retired one game away from victory, and the WTA is looking into it. Obviously something's fishy, because people were betting on women's tennis.

The Angels won last night, incidentally, though you wouldn't know it from the vast persecution complex on display among their fan base this morning. Watch the video. Rivera, having come on in the bottom of the 10th, finishes his warmup tosses and spits somewhere in the vicinity of his ball. Anaheim fans believe this is conclusive evidence that Mariano Rivera is a fraud and a cheat and a wretched human being all-around, one with whom Fox producers are evidently in deep cahoots. Playing the role of Jim Garrison here is someone at Halos Heaven calling himself "Quinlan's Goofy Swing." Quinlan's Goofy Swing has posted frame-by-frame evidence that Rivera spat on his ball, complete with helpful captioning:

spit landing, as fox realizes what it is broadcasting and quickly cuts to scioscia (can still see the spit halo on top of the ball)

Elsewhere, someone with the handle "Rev Halofan" seems to think Rivera's peculiar success as a one-pitch pitcher has at last been explained. Rev Halofan writes:

Personally, the video you are about to watch is pretty amazing: I would say this is pretty conclusive evidence of why Yankees pitcher Mariano Rivera is able to throw only one pitch that has unpredictable, yet precise movement.

He has mastered the Angels so far in the ALCS but has Major League Baseball gotten a look at how he "warms up" for his appearance on the mound? You be the judge...

* With a tie game in the bottom of the 10th, the Yankees bring in Rivera.
* After warming up, he has his back to home plate so the home plate ump can't see.
* He looks down at the ball, then up to see if the 2nd base ump is watching.
* He then looks back at the ball and appears to spit on it.
* And when he tests clean for steroids they say he is not a cheater.

Watch for yourself and consider first of all the sheer improbability that the game's greatest closer would doctor a ball in the same artless way that a kid would hock a loogie from a 10th-story window. Consider, too, that Rivera would've had to do this repeatedly — right there, as I say, in front of God and Joe Buck and 45,000 fans — to gain any real advantage. And finally, consider this: Unlikely as it is, the idea that Mariano Rivera, the Hammer of God himself, might throw some old-fashioned outlaw stuff to escape a tight spot is, to be frank, just about the coolest thing ever.

Mariano Rivera Spitball: Video Evidence? [Halos Heaven]
Mariano Rivera caught doctoring the ball ALCS game 3, 10th inning [Halos Heaven]

The good old neighborhood play. It's a given, 99 times out of 100, but last night Jerry Layne called Melky Cabrera safe when Erick Aybar's feet were merely in the vicinity of second base. To give FOX credit, they went back over the game's previous double plays and found there hadn't been any other neighborhood plays that game, so the umps were at least consistent.

Also consistent: reactions from New York and L.A., taking sides:

The New York Daily News:

...the Yankees nearly got a huge break in the 10th, as Aybar never touched second base on a potential double play...

The New York Post:

Shortstop Erick Aybar, who misplayed Hideki Matsui's popup in the 4-1 Game 1 loss, never touched second base on what should have been a Jorge Posada double-play ball in the 10th...

Chad Piscaner at Large:

Apparently Aybar and the Angels learned that the "neighborhood" play doesn't mean just being in sight of 161st street in the Bronx.

Meanwhile, SoCal outlets were a little less tolerant of the umpires calling the rulebook.

The O.C. Register:

Umpire Jerry Layne tried to show everybody how smart he isn't, and held Angels shortstop Erick Aybar to a standard that few, if any, infielders are asked to while turning a double play.

Halos Heaven:

Once again, fighting the rain, the cold, the Yankees and their umpires...

6-4-2:

...an especially horrible call by second base umpire Jerry Layne that erased a double play when Erick Aybar failed to touch second base, or supposedly failed to do so; the video I saw was inconclusive (his left foot never did, but his right foot might have).

All month, the umpires have been excoriated for missing calls, and the one time they get a controversial one correct, they're excoriated for it. It's gotten to the point where the calls have been so bad, the umps are overcompensating. If they actually start calling strikes from the letters to the knees, we're in for a category 5 shitstorm.

Although according to The New York Times baseball blog Bats, the game is still on.

As of 2:45 P.M., Major League Baseball said it was still hopeful of starting tonight's Yankees-Angels game on time. Although rain is in the forecast for Game 2 of the American League Championship Series, Pat Courtney, a spokesman for baseball, said the latest forecasts showed that the rain would be light. Of course, that forecast could change.

Given that 2:45 ET was some time ago and being the intrepid reporter that I am (Gary Gnu was my childhood hero), I went and checked out the current forecast on TheWeatherChannel.com, and its battalion of meteorologists have this as the current forecast for the evening:

Rain likely. Low 42F. Winds NNE at 15 to 25 mph. Chance of rain 90%. Rainfall near a half an inch.

90% chance of rain? Yowsers. So that means it is as likely it will rain tonight in the Bronx as it is this Crystal Skull-shaped bottle of vodka will be finished before I'm done writing today. Interesting.

One person who doesn't want to hear about the inclement weather is Times' columnist William C. Rhoden. And he believes that the weather isn't the only problem.

Major League Baseball faces two fundamental problems: weather and umpire accountability.

The weather is just part of the game, but umpiring has become an increasingly disturbing part of the game.

...

Welcome to winter ball in the fall, a result of too many days off in the postseason and the power of the networks, which have devised a schedule that will have major leaguers playing baseball in November.

But baseball's larger problem is the umpires. Their performance may be the same as it has always been, but the scrutiny is much greater.

Of course Rhoden isn't as worried about the weather as he is the umpiring. It's not like he's going to be at Yankee Stadium for the game. Rhoden and his wife already have movie tickets to go see Where The Wild Things Are tonight.

But don't worry. He'll still write a semi-competent column about the game anyway.

The Game Is On, for Now [Bats]
Weather May Affect Game, but Bad Calls Shouldn't [The New York Times]
(previously on Deadspin) William Rhoden's Wimbledon Coverage Didn't Garner Him Any New Fans

One of the stranger conceits in the coverage of sports is the fallacy that past performance is indicative of future returns. It makes the least sense in college sports. People will write, "Illinois seems to have Missouri's number" (obviously I'm speaking of basketball, not football) as if what happened six years ago, with entire different players, coaching staff and circumstances, could possibly be relevant. As if someone looks at a member of the opposing team and says, "Holy shit, we always struggle with teams wearing black. Oh no!"

The Red Sox, Anaheim's first-round opponent, seem to Have The Angels' Number, which mainly means Angels fans are pretty goddamned sick of seeing the Red Sox every October. The Angels look better than the Sox this year in a random, flip-a-damned-coin five-game series, but they looked better last year in a random, flip-a-damned-coin five-game series. Unfortunate head-to-head dominance on this seems to affect fans psyches' more than it does the players'.

The Angels are a large-market team that somehow strikes the world as a small market team, and the fans react accordingly. (I particularly loved this Bud Selig is rigging the series for the Sox and ratings! fanpost at Halos Heaven.) Anaheim actually has a larger payroll than the Dodgers do, but I suspect none of you think of it that way. Maybe it's Anaheim. It's a lot freaking farther from Los Angeles that I realized. It's also one of those unfortunate ballparks in large metropolitan areas where you can't find anywhere to have a damned beer before the game.

For years, the Angels had a reputation, because they had a bunch of free swingers and because they were in the same division as Billy Beane's A's, for being an almost anti-Moneyball team, a team that won because of a great manager, "playing the game the right way" and an inordinate amount of luck. Well, this year, they had their Happy Gilmore "Happy learned how to putt! Uh-oh!" moment: They learned how to walk and get on base. The lowest on-base percentage in their lineup belongs to Vlad Guerrero. They also run like crazy, perfect against a team like the Red Sox, whose catchers should seriously consider throwing left handed because, well, yaneverknow. This team really is different. This team should beat the Red Sox.

But lots of things should happen in the postseason that don't. If the Angels lose to the Red Sox, it won't necessarily mean they just Can't Beat Boston. And it won't mean the Angels aren't better either. Sometimes shit just happens. Now, you will go to sleep. Or I will put you to sleep. Check out the name tag. You're in my world now, grandma.

•Don't cry, Canes fans, The U looks like it's back after a blowout win over Georgia Tech. Next up: ranked Virginia Tech, higher ranked Oklahoma, and the very highly ranked "avoiding off-the-field controversies." That last one may prove unwinnable.

•The umpires claim that they were verbally abused by Angels coaches after two abominable questionable calls Wednesday night. You know what, Angels? Nick Green's OPS is .669. He deserves five-strikes-and-you're out, to make it fair.

•Roger Federer was fined $1,500 for this little remark at the US Open: "Don't tell me to be quiet, OK? When I want to talk, I talk. I don't give a shit what he said." Thanks to Roger and Serena, we know know that "fuck" is precisely seven times more offensive than "shit" in tennis. I don't even want to know what "mecrob" would cost you.

•A lockout of NBA refs is "imminent and unavoidable" after talks with the league broke down yesterday. The refs turned down an extra million dollars in concessions, which leads me to believe they haven't looked at the poll on this page that says only 24% of fans care if they come back. Leverage indeed.

•A judge has ruled that Kobe Bryant's former housekeeper can sue him for being wrongfully fired, but can't claim emotional distress. Honey, you got off lucky. I don't know if you've heard about Kobe's last court case, but consider yourself lucky if the distress was just emotional.

•I hope Dash didn't think his Mets Season Of Failure gallery was finished. Elias says the Mets have three game-ending errors this season. That's three times as many as any other team.

•Finally, did you like the Commodore 64? Do you think it would have been better if only they put out a version of Guitar Hero for it? You're not alone:

Orange County Weekly obtained a copy of the report (posted on their website) showing that Stewart's "postmortem" blood alcohol level was .16, twice the legal limit for a regular driver—however, Stewart was also underage. It's unclear "what it all means" at this point, and it may have no bearing on the essential facts of the incident, but the whole situation just got a lot messier—and could get much uglier. The driver of the other car in the accident, Andrew Gallo, has been charged with three counts of murder and could get the death penalty. He was also drunk that night and no one really disputes witness testimony that he ran a red light, smashed into the other car, killing Adenhart, Stewart and Henry Pearson, and then fled the scene.

I don't believe that California law mimics Florida's drunk-driving statutes—where the responsibility of both drivers comes into play—but this could still affect the case against Gallo. Or not. He was a convicted drunk driver and all the witnesses say it was his fault, so prosecutors may still look to throw the book at him. But at the very least, his lawyers could paint a very unflattering picture of the victims and cast doubt on the image of Gallo as vicious killer. Yeah, this is not going to be fun.

Autopsy Report: Adenhart Driver Also Drunk [Orange County Weekly]

The Dodgers won 11-1 and Orlando Hudson hit for the cycle, but apparently the real action took place in the parking lot. A 30-year-old man was stabbed after getting into an argument with two men who drove off in "a black Ford F-150 pickup truck with a broken back window." The man was taken to the hospital in serious condition. Police also responded to a man waving a gun in another parking lot and a brawl outside the stadium, involving as many as 30 people. Oh, and a car accident. So awesome time at the ballpark.

Of course, we don't mean to pick on the National Leaguers. Lost in the news of Nick Adenhart's death last week was the story of a fan who was killed in fight on the concourse at Angels Stadium during their home opener. Basically, you should just stay away from all Southern California baseball activities for the time being. It's just not worth it.

Violent incidents surround end of Dodgers game [ABC Local]
Man stabbed after Dodger Stadium home opener [LA Times]
Men Taped Fighting At Angel Stadium Come Forward [CBS 2]

ESPN briefly removed their annoying crawl when first reporting on the death of Nick Adenhart this morning. (It's back, unfortunately, but it was a nice touch.) Then out of nowhere they pulled out a melancholy version of the "Baseball Tonight" theme. That was a bit odd, but their heart is clearly in the right place. Stories like this are never easy to handle, especially on a free-wheeling morning sports show. But I guess no one thought to talk to the advertising department (why would they?) and maybe ask them to hold off on the NASCAR ad where racers talk about experiencing the rush of the crash.

Yeah, that was unfortunate. Put that on the checklist for next time.

Nick Adenhart of Los Angeles Angels killed in car crash in Fullerton [ESPN]

TMZ has learned Los Angeles Angels starting pitcher Nick Adenhart was killed in a felony hit-and-run car accident in Fullerton, California early this morning — hours after he pitched in a game last night.

Cops say someone driving a minivan blew through a red light, causing a 2 car crash which killed 3 people, including Nick.

Cops say the person driving the van fled the scene — but was later caught and charged with felony hit-and-run.

We're told one of the other men killed in the crash was also affiliated with Angels organization.

Nick was 22 years old.

More to come, as story develops.

Angels starting pitcher killed in auto accident [TMZ]

As you can tell, the woman in this photo appears to be considerably younger than the 50-year-old Macdonald, which prompted some of the commenters on HH to question their hometown announcer's professionalism and, well, if he's a sexual deviant. But fear not Angels fans — Macdonald isn't getting To Catch A Predator'd anytime soon, nor will he lose his job because of this relationship. I contacted LA-writer Tom Hoffarth, author of Farther Off The Wall, and asked him about the photos. Hoffarth said that he would call Macdonald (they're friendly) to ask him about it, but he did say that it's highly unlikely that Bill was roaming around Angels Stadium picking up young girls. Sort of. This is what Macdonald told Hoffarth over the phone:

"Yes, we're dating. Yes, she looks 12, but she's 23. I'm not doing anything illegal. The Angels have no problem with it."

And there you go. What was once perceived as something embarrassing and wrong is now just your typical May-December romance between a high-profile Los Angeles sportscaster and a 23-year-old woman. The real person to feel sorry for in this situation appears to be the woman's friend, who just can't find enough people to text message in order to avoid their gross public displays of affection.

Bill Macdonald - Panther [Halos Heaven]

"We lost to a team that's not better than us," growled pitcher John Lackey, who gave up two runs and seven hits in seven innings. "We are a better team than they are. The last two days, we shouldn't have given up anything."

It wasn't so much Scioscia's squeeze call and Erick Aybar's missed bunt attempt that irked Lackey after the 100-win Angels, who had the best record in baseball and seemed built for a long October run, lost the series, three games to one.

"That's our style of baseball," Lackey said. "That got us here."

"[Sunday] night they scored three runs on a pop fly that was called a hit, which was a joke," Lackey said, referring to Ellsbury's pop that fell between center fielder Torii Hunter and second baseman Howie Kendrick in Game 3. "[Monday] night they scored on a broken-bat ground ball and a fly ball that anywhere else in America is an out, and he's fist-pumping on second base like he did something great."

Asked to describe his feelings, Lackey said, "Like I want to throw somebody through a wall."

Red Sox Send Angels Home Again [Los Angeles Times]

* * *

Bottom 9th

2 3

I do believe we finally have a Sox-Angels game that took less — MUCH less — than three hours to complete. Even better, it was back and forth for the last three innings. Even more to the point, there is a perfectly good Justin Masterson for sale on Craigslist.

So that's the clincher. Boston and Tampa Bay for the league champeenship. In no professional sport does that city matchup look right. So I will nap off the willies for 48 hours in the hopes that it makes more sense by then. Thanks for breezing through this game with me, comrades.

11:28 — Add one more scrappy hero to the Bostonian pile: Jed Lowrie's ground ball escapes Howie Kendrick's grasp, lands in front of Willits, and you know what happens from here. Bay rounds third, slides, and it's drinking time for Massachusetts. Mother of a multiracial messiah those final three plays happened so fast.

11:28 — Fifty-seven exclamation points in a row, please. Teixeira dives and catches Kotsay's scorcher.

11:26 — After Drew whiffs at nothin' but nitrogen, Reggie Willits slowly morphs into All-Star Dan Uggla. He dives at Bay's fly ball down right field, but doesn't get close and the ball jumps into the right field mosh pit for a double.

11:24 — Hey Scot. Can ya' keep pitchin'? Theenks.

Top 9th

11:22 — With the inning pretty much over, Aybar will be on SportsCenter only twice as he grounds out to first.

11:20 — Whoa, craziness down the third base line. Varitek runs down Willits on the squeeze play, falls, drops the ball, and Willits is still out. Why is he out, even though he dropped it? As John Madden would say, he was down by contact, and one knee equals two feet. (I actually have no goddamn clue why the tag counts. I didn't read Section 15.2.viii of the rulebook. No spoilers, please.

11:18 — Manny Delcarmen, which is my favorite Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor, will now throw really fast balls to Jason Varitek, most of which he'll catch. Erick Aybar, do you want to be on SportsCenter? Or do you want to be on SportsCenter eight times?

11:16 — Reggie Willits will do the running that Morales simply won't do, and Kendrick selflessly sacrifices his own internal organs to send Willits to third base. Terry Francona wants to use a different pitcher, and frankly can you blame him?

11:15 — Wait, really? Kendry Morales doubles to start the "final" inning. Like hell this is the final inning. That's like saying there's a final level in the video game Gauntlet. THERE ISN'T.

11:13 — It's the ninth, and you know what that means. Time for Kendry Morales to pinch hit! [shrug]

Bottom 8th

2 2

11:10 — Youkilis, please give Julio Franco back his batting stance. That's why you struck out, dont'cha know.

11:08 — Yeck. David Ortiz hasn't looked that bad swinging at a curve in the dirt since Minnesota.

11:05 — Scot Shields, your mission is to take this 2-2 lead and do nothing with it. Pedroia lines out accordingly.

Still Top 8th

11:03 — Hey, that totally wasn't sarcasm just then. I literally knew Napoli was going to fly out to right field to end the inning.

11:01 — Hey, another 0-2 count for Masterson, this time on Mike Napoli, who has done absolutely NOTHING at Fenway in this series. (That anyone would choose to remember.) Certainly nothing horrible will come of this, and the game will move to the bottom of the inning.

10:59 — Whoops++. Masterson gets ANOTHER 0-2 count, falls to 2-2, and Torii laces a ball the other way, plating two, tying the game, and certainly keeping up everyone on the Atlantic coast up until 1:30 a.m.

10:56 — Whoops. Masterson's pitch goes right by Varitek's glove — it doesn't even touch his glove — and runners move up. Maybe that's why he's batting ninth. Buck Martinez defends the man by assuming Tek was looking curve when it turned out to be fastyball.

10:56 — Fenway fans mocking Torii Hunter by chanting his first name. HAHA, WHAT A GOOFY NAME. That sure put a bee in his bonnet, no doubt.

10:53 — Okajima's out and Justin ... Masterson comes in to pitch? Okay, they're just signing people based on their surname and hoping it works out. Masterson turns an 0-2 advantage into a magic 3-2 count, ten walks Guerrero.

Commercial Break

Sweet! The Viagra couple threw their phone out the window. It's burglin' time!

Top 8th

10:50 — Ed Rapuano's strike zone has taken a turn for the more Plastic Man-like, and Teixeira walks on four pitches.

10:48 — Insta-speculation on Garret Anderson, Mark Teixeira, Vladimir Guerrero, and Francisco Rodriguez. (AND Jon Garland. Chip Caray really wants front row tickets to that fire sale.) Anderson grounds out, the second in as many batters.

10:44 — No more Lester for tonight. Hideki Okajima will protect the shutout, the lead, and perhaps a few injured gazelles. The night is young.

Bottom 7th

0 2

10:40 — The Red Sox are so hardcore, man, they catch their own fly balls. Or ... they ground into their own double plays. Hell, even Lackey's gone seven innings. WORKHORSES!

Seventh Inning Stretch Halftime Entertainment

I gotta say, the combination of Hulu.com and Sarah Palin seems to have caused a slight resurgence of Saturday Night Live popularity. I said SLIGHT. And I said nothing about quality. Hence the ol' skoo' clip.

Top 7th

10:35 — Pitchers still go seven innings in the playoffs now? I thought we evolved beyond that. Andy Sonnanstine went 5 2/3 innings against the White Sox this evening, and that's the LDS equivalent of a complete game. Impressive work by Lester so far.

10:31 — Well, if this game's going to end before midnight, the Red Sox are going to win it, because any type of clawing back by the Guys With Halos On Their Logo will draw out the game and empty the bullpen in any given inning. Thing is, the Red Sox are grabbing every short fly ball known to man.

Bottom 6th

0 2

10:28 — Roll over the pitch, Kotsay. Now run slowly to first. Good. We're making great time.

10:26 — Erick Aybar gives Jason Bay's ground ball a little love push into the outfield. It's ruled a hit. John Lackey rules it grounds for public flogging.

10:24 — Youkilis hits a ground ball, requiring a good defensive play. It happens. The crowd is unimpressed and therefore biased.

Top 6th

10:21 — Lester gets through the sixth cleanly after Napoli's fly ball makes Jason Bay all but get on his tippy-toes to catch it leaning nonchalantly against a giant green wall.

10:18 — Youkilis gloats his defensive prowess at third by throwing out Torii Hunter. "Mike Lowell wouldn't make this play because he's injured." I want to make fun of that sentence, but actually that's some darn solid logic embedded in the statement.

10:16 — Mark Kotsay dives just past the first base coaches box to catch up to Guerrero's broken bat flair. No way is that ball caught in Baseball Simulator 1.000. Maybe in Bases Loaded.

Bottom 5th

0 2

10:13 — Ortiz tried to murder John Lackey! Was I the only one who saw that? He sure made it look unintentaional, but the puma-like reflexes by Lackey caused him to knock it down and throw him out.

10:12 — What's better than a sac groundout? Well, many things. Peanut butter and chocolate, for one. But more to the point, Pedroia's double tames the green monster — in this case, a Sleestak — and brings in the future CEO of VeriTech. Double the run total, por favor.

10:10 — The good news is that Kendrick didn't let Ellsbury's ground ball go through his glove. (Sounds like something I'd do.) The bad news is he didn't field it cleanly, and even though Ellsbury was hosed down at first, there's no double play and a run sneaks home from third.

10:08 — The Ninth Batter corks one literally, physically through Teixeira and you've got men in red on the corners. (The good red.)

10:05 — When his baseball days are over, Jason Varitek needs to found a company called VeriTech. It could be home security, a notary firm, or just a group of people that go out, mingle with pedestrians, say, "Yes, that is true" and then run back to the office and collect $150 an hour. But that's not important right now, for he's batting freaking ninth.

10:03 — Rays clinch. Square the square.

Top 5th

9:59 — STEEEEEEEE-RIIIIIII..... ball two. Jon Lester really wanted it, but let's look at the RapuGraphic: Hey, it WAS a strike! No matter, the next pitch went right down the middle of the plate, which, according to the graphic, should be ball three. Well, that's the world working itself out for ya. No runs for L'Anaheim.

9:57 — Graphic time. Men left on base this series: Angels 40, Red Sox 33. Oh come on. There's only 25 men on each roster. Some of those are duplicates.

9:55 — Somewhere in my fury of crossing network streams, the Angels have two dudes on base and just one out.

9:50 — Craig Sager reports that Mike Scioscia basically guaranteed a win tonight with "forensic analysis" or something. Buck Martinez beat me to the CSI reference, although what a poor way to trumpet the company line by having Martinez reference someone other network's show. Here on Turnervision™, it's "The Closer" or "Frank TV" spoofing CSI or any of the zillion times they show "Legally Blonde," which includes passing references to detective work.

Bottom 4th

0 0

9:48 — Jason Bay IS Jim Breuer in "Too High." Now playing in an inning-ending fly ball at-bat near you. (Featuring Gilbert Gottfried as "The Ornery Lampshade.")

9:45 — Drew's fly ball to RightCenter™ — sounds like an appliance store — tags up David Ortiz. In other news, Ortiz does his own running. I thought all he did was hit. Maybe the pitcher should run in his place once he gets to first. Seems fair to me.

9:42 — Does Julio Franco know Kevin Youkilis stole his batting stance? Moreover, does he know it still works? Youk's grounder to Figgins causes him to hurry the double play throw to Howie Kendrick at second, resulting in a wide throw, a dropped ball, and Taxachusettsans at first and second.

9:38 — Ed Rapuano's strike zone has been called into question more than once tonight. So as a public service to baseball fans everywhere, here's the strike zone Rapuano announced on his Myspace he would be using tonight:

Top 4th

9:35 — Rivera grounds out to third, but his bat doesn't break and impale anyone. Issue addressed and solved.

9:33 — Football: "Spinal injuries and broken bones are a part of the game." Baseball: "We have to do something about baseball bats hitting a player ... before it happens." Mike Napoli's groundout comes free with half a piece of lumber screeching by Lester over the mound.

9:30 — First they named a foul pole after Johnny Pesky, then they retired his number. So just because they named a urinal trough after Keith Foulke, doesn't mean all hope is lost on a number retirement ceremony.

Bottom 3rd

0 0

9:27 — Crimony, this game's going fast. If this thing ends before 11:30, I won't know what to do with myself. I might have to go to sleep on time. That's entirely too frightening to think about.

9:27 — Oh, that's why they bat ninth.

9:26 — Jason Varitek is now batting. Ninth. Jason Varitek is batting ninth. Mark Kotsay is batting ahead of Jason Varitek. Since when do captains bat ninth?

Top 3rd

9:23 — Bagger Vance squibs a grounder to second, and Dustin Pedroia heroically dives toward it and BARELY throws out Guerrero by one-and-a-half steps. Phew, good thing he hustled! Inning-half over.

9:20 — Mark Kotsay would make good escapee of a building on fire. He barrels over Kerwin Danley in pursuit of the foul ball. For good measure, he should have backed over him when going back to first.

9:16 — Teixeira walks, and Vladimir Guerrero — yes, it looks like he's golfing! — comes swingin' away. You never hear an announcer talk about Guerrero swinging at shoulder-high pitches and describe it like hitting a piñata.

9:14 — Mark Teixeira is hitting quite well this series. With Figgins on second, let's take a look at every single hit he's made in this divisional series. [dance groove ditty]

9:11 — We've accepted for far too long that "Chone" Figgins is pronounced "Shawn." It would delight me if his name was a homophone for the UNIX command chown. He hits to left and gets the honor of standing on the Simon handheld game leadoff graphic.

9:07 — Seth Rogen movies: Because Will Ferrell movies are just too erudite for middle America.

Bottom 2nd

0 0

9:05 — JD Drew hits, Jason Bay walks ... and Mark Kotsay errors by hitting into a double play.

9:03 — Kevin Youkilis sits down after a called third strike that, were the Red Sox to challenge using TBS' StrikeBoxTelemetryWhatchercaller, could have gotten a ball three.

Top 2nd

8:58 — Howie Kendrick strikes out to kill the rally, but does his part to tack on six more seconds to the game by running to first and making Varitek throw to first.

8:56 — Extend! EXTEND! Juan Rivera bangs a two-out hit past shortstop. Commence thoughts on how Manny Ramirez would have fielded that base hit and thrown it to second.

8:54 — After two quick outs, Mike Napoli is following company orders by fouling off about three pitches in a row, then calling for time, to extend this game a bit. (Drawing a walk also helps this cause.)

8:51 — Of course the list of tonight's umpires elicits the groove music. Everything should. "And tonight's peanut vendors are:" dow dow DOW DOW DOW ... dow dow DOW DOW DOW ... nnn-tsssh nnn-nnn-tsssh ♬

Bottom 1st

0 0

8:47 — Quick outs by Jacoby Ellsbury, Dustin Pedroia and David Ortiz put this game on pace for a breezy 90 minutes. That's not nearly enough Frank TV ads to make quota.

8:45 — I wonder what baseball would be like if actual 10-foot-tall playing cards were in the field instead of human beings.

8:43 — Time to introduce us to the Red Sox lineup. And ... groove. This music's actually too cool to physically dance to. You can just listen to the music and the notes will dance for you.

Top 1st

8:41 — What's Lester's hurry? Must be double parked. Fignuts, Garret Anderson and Mark Teixeixiexeixera go down in a span of about four minutes. This brings our estimated finish time up to 1:41 a.m.

8:38 — Jon Lester to Chone Figgins: Ball one. The first pitch started one minute late. We're already behind, and expect the pace to continue.

8:37 — The groovy lineup introduction music TBS throws out there makes my bone marrow want to salsa.

8:36 — Wow, the Great Pumpkin is several weeks early for Hallowe... oh, it's just Craig Sager.

Pre-Game Babble

Let's look back at how this series has gone:

Game 1: A bit over three hours. (Good.)
Game 2: Almost four hours. (Ick.)
Game 3: damn well over five hours. (Zzzzzzz)

When TBS said "rig the playoffs so there's more Red Sox," that's not what they had in mind. Tonight's game may very well take seven hours, even if they have to pause between pitches to ask regular bargoers if Jonathan Papelbon is available to pitch tonight. Sheesh. It looks like Mike Lowell took the easy way out of this series.

By the way, I was planning on doing last night's game, but yesterday afternoon decided against it just because I was lazy. It turned out to be the second smartest decision I've made all year. The smartest? Turning down the Oakland Raiders head coaching job.

If the Angels win this sucker, Game 5 will be in Anaheim Wednesday night, and experts in the field of Momentumography agree that the Angels will be virtually impossible to beat to the point that it's not even worth trying to play the game, so Boston might just forfeit the win. Heck, they won it last year. Chicago hasn't won one in 100 years. What's the rush?

Other certainties: death, taxes, and bingo. (And that "I think I'm in love ... with a phone!" commercial.)

NOTE: Tampa Bay. Holy hell.

Series Schedule
Game 1: Wednesday, October 1, 10 p.m. ET. Boston (Lester) at Anaheim (Lackey).
Game 2: Friday, October 3, 9:30 p.m. Boston (Matsuzaka) at Anaheim (Garland E. Santana).
Game 3: Sunday, October 5, Time TBA. Anaheim (Saunders) at Boston (Beckett).
Game 4 (if necessary): Monday, October 6,TBA . Anaheim at Boston.
Game 5 (if necessary): Wednesday, October 8, TBA. Boston at Anaheim.

SEVEN THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT THE ANGELS-RED SOX SERIES

1. The One Team The Angels Didn't Want To Play. Since the Angels won the World Series in 2002 — you might remember, there was a monkey involved — they have gone 2-9 in the postseason. (This is what happens when you no longer put all your faith in Scott Spiezio and Adam Kennedy.) That includes an 0-6 mark against the Red Sox, who have swept past the Halos (which should be the team's real nickname) en route to their two recent World Series titles. Last year they scored four runs in three games.

(CORRECTION: A reader writes: "The Angels aren't 2-9 since 2002. They won the ALDS vs. the Yankees in 2005 before losing to the White Sox in the ALCS.." Oh yeah! Well, uh, my point still stands, kind of.)

2. Worry About Lackey. Lackey has struggled in the second half and is coming off a shellacking against Texas over the weekend. He has two wins over the Red Sox this year, but everyone on the Angels dominated the Red Sox during the regular season. This is smoothed over somewhat by the mysterious injury to Josh Beckett, which seems to have happened out of nowhere. The Red Sox are either being weirdly secretive or don't know any better than any of us do. Already, Beckett's not getting the two starts he would have. But Lackey is, for better or worse.

3. This Series Is Going To Take Forever. The Angels, because they had the best record in the AL, chose this playoff schedule, which gives teams a potential three days off in a five-game playoff series. This means that by the time Game 5 comes around (if there is a Game 5, of course), you will barely remember what happened in Game 1. Oh, and each of these games is running four hours, at least. And the first two are starting deep into the evening, East Coast time. Red Sox fans, you better work your ass off the first few days of this week, because you're not getting anything done Thursday.

4. You'll Hear More About Manny Than You Will About Bay. Jason Bay has hit the crap out of the ball since coming over from Pittsburgh — and he's Canadian — but because this is the postseason, every broadcaster is going to remain obsessed with the alleged "psychic void" left by Manny Ramirez's departure. (And by "departure," I mean, "asshole power move made exclusively for financial gain, a somewhat dubious strategy anyway.") And it will seem strange to see October baseball in Boston without Manny playing. But let's be clear here: The Red Sox are unlikely to miss him, and their fans, even less so. Plus, Bay's Canadian.

5. The Angels Drive Sabermetricians Nuts. Every year the Angels finish ahead of the A's in the American League West, a little part of Rob Neyer dies. The Angels put out a lineup of low-power free swingers, spend money in dubious ways and love the stolen base. Yet, somehow, they keep winning. One gets the feeling that when the Angels finally get too old and bloated, the implosion will happen immediately and last a while ... but that time's not here yet. Plus, everybody loves Mark Teixeira, and you have to admire any team that's 15 games ahead and still trades for the hottest property in baseball. But anything less than a World Series is an Orange County disaster.

6. That Said, The Angels Aren't As Good As You (And They) Think. Yes, he's another sabermetrician, but I can't put it any better than Ron Shandler: "Their batters' inability to consistently work counts is their most glaring weakness, leaving their run production reliant on luck — good or bad — on hits from balls put into play." The Angels won 100 games, but they've never felt like a Mariners in '01 dominant team. They just seemed that way because the rest of their division is so feeble. And as steady as their starters are, they're just the type of staff that the patient Red Sox hitters feed off. If the Angels don't win Game 1, you can imagine the fear creeping in.

7. Those Nostrils. How is it, exactly, that Jonathan Papelbon can be a totally freakshow goofball in every fashion except for when he stands on the mound in October, in HD, looking like the most terrifying person on earth? (It has to be the closeup.) Despite Francisco Rodriguez's save record, Papelbon's a far steadier presence as a closer. The question is whether the Red Sox can get the game to him; they sure would love to have Scot Shields.

PREDICTION
Sorry, I'm a sucker for a hot sabermetrician, even with a gimpy Beckett: Red Sox in 4.

Several top sporting alienists agree on the positive benefits of the Barrymore Win, those laced through with drama. Sure, they count no more than the 10-1 kneeslapper to the bookkeepers of the game, but when a squad emerges victorious whilst squeezed by pressure, the release can have a knock-on effect. These Magellans of the psychosis must be giddy about the exploits of your Spartans in Scarlet, who cannot seem to agree upon a proper geographical surname, but inarguably represent the outlying areas of the City of Angels.

The I-5ers tucked another skip-away into their burgeoning pelts by defeating a game, and possibly gamey, group of Canucks from Toronto, 4-3. Appropriately on this Sabbath Day, the Lord’s Reps here on Earth were not left disappointed.

This particular left-columner was the fourth in a row for SoCal that included the scorebook addendum “X outs when winning run scored.” The consistent cliffhangers would be too much for the local imagineers who ply their trades in celluloid, and should, one hopes, be enough to get the Haloed Nine some much-needed buzz in the Southland, perhaps even breaking through the noise created by the pituitaryily-enhanced cagers currently wrapping up another season of lobbing balls into peach baskets across town.

Our beloved base ball is a cruel affair of zero-sum equations; for every smile in the home dressing room, there was an equivalent scowl in the visitors’. None was so anguished as that of Bluebird anchorman B.J. “Inverted L” Ryan, who took a fine performance worthy of a V by opening twirler A.J. “T.J.” Burnett and effectively flushed it down the commode. John Crapper himself would be astounded at such a thorough use of his invention.

Leading 3-2 entering the ultimate innings, B. followed A. with alphabetical precision. Yet the result was hardly as satisfying. The Brown Russian and Two-I Hunter immediately welcomed the new spinner with lashed safeties. “I wouldn't say we were happy that he came in, but Burnett was pretty much dealing and we wanted to see something different," offered Torii afterward, affirming the human need for variety (and, in tandem, the Spice Trade with Batavia).

Then, seemingly, the Decisive Moment—a puny bounder off the ash of Casey “Bird Dog’s Boy” Kotchman to his mirror at the Primary Sack, Lyle Overpaid, resulted in a tagout of Vladimir Ilyitch between bases three and four. The Stalin of Sock alertly prolonged the agony, allowing his fellow Winged Ones to advance along the Gilded Path. Mike “Backstabber” Napoli was Purposefully Passed to fully laden the bags. Alternate Ashman “Don” Juan Rivera went shopping at K-Mart, transporting our Canadian Cousins to within a single out of Eden.

But B.J. put a prophylactic on his club’s hopes for ecstasy (not to mention winning the three-game set). With Howie “Gigli” Kendrick at bat, the Confused Concluder missed his target by a wide margin, unless his aiming point was Howie’s triceps. The latterly plunking gave a trio of tallies for each side, and kept the bags brimming with Angelenos. El Cabron Pequeno, Maicer Izturis, strolled to the pentagon with a chance to be the Afternoon’s Achilles, and he didn’t disappoint, yanking the first doomed delivery by Ryan to the Far Grass. Kotchman’s toetag of the Glory Dish set off an all-too familiar celebration by the Quartz City Crew, while the Irritated Irishman trudged the walk of shame off the bump.

Kudos to Angels In America Darren “Scythe” Oliver and Jose “Beginner’s Luck” Arredondo, who caulked over a mediocre outing from Jon “Trade Bait” Garland. Arredondo in particular deserves plaudits, not merely for earning the V by holding the enemy to a duo of bingles in 2.1 innings, but for bouncing back so hardily in the face of adversity, having offered up a meatball that was sent over the planking on his very first offering in the Bigs. It’s that sort of fortitude in the face of Horsehide Haplessness that has delivered this plucky band of Seraphs to their current prominent placement in the divisional listings.

Meanwhile, there was no immediate word from the Loonies locker room on the mental capacity of Burnett, who once upon a time famously delivered a verbal whipping to his Sunshine State Spearfish mates after a tough defeat, after which, he was asked to vacate the premises with the alacrity of Mercury. After Ryan’s Harding-like performance in the Beer Frame, the Combustible Tosser, whose inner workings may well be stained by all the ink that has leached into his pores, has grounds for verbal battery. Given the rife potential that Burnett may be dangled at the midseason Swap Meet, repercussions wouldn’t likely be lasting.

Let's see if you can guess the worst offending ballpark by the description of its recent health violations.

A major vermin violation forced the shutdown of one food stand in April 2007. A cockroach infestation was reported in the Stadium Club kitchen in August.

That's right, it's Angel Stadium in Los Angeles, home of 732 health code violations. McAfee was second with 493, and AT&T Park had 88. By comparison, the Mets and Yankees were hardly trying with 58 and 45, respectively. Although inspectors did report seeing "mice, rats and flying insects in food areas" at Shea Stadium, which is almost as impressive as that Indians' triple play.

Foul Ballpark [Portfolio.com]
Vermin, Roaches In More Filthy MLB Park Kitchens [SportsbyBrooks]

Save the unassisted triple play and the balk, is there a more exciting happenstance on the four-pointed meadow than the long sock with the bags bursting? The Grand Aria? The Cosmic Clout? How about a four-run four-bagger that propels your side to victory? Such a blazing instance of base balling prodigiousness is excitement enough to keep one awake until the wee hours.

So blame Two-I Torii Hunter for your inability to enter the land of Nod. His biggest of big flies turned defeat into glorious, unexpected joy in Disneyland, home of the fairy tale. The skip-away homer gave the O.C. boys a 6-4 win over the Cleveland nine and a half, and its hapless anchorman Jittery Joe Borowski.

Yes, 'tis true — the glue-handed patroller of the middle exterior known far and wide as "Butterfly Net" won this encounter with his ash, not his cowhide. Hunter socked as many balls over the distant fenceline as ego-letters contained in his forename. The first of his brace came in the penultimate innings, snapping a theretofore-tied 1-1 encounter.

Unfortunately for the Winged Ones, ordinarily terrifying concluder Francisco "Babalu" Rodriguez engendered little fright. Santeria let down the slightly built winger on this evening, as the Cuyahoga Chiefs popped a cap in Sancho in their final at bat. Right away, Frank gave a free pass to Pronk Hafner, and his substitute legs, Asdrubal "Mouthful" Cabrera, scored on a laced two-bagger into the farthest reaches of right field by El Jugador del Jugadores, Victor Martinez. He too was deemed unable to propel himself around the sacks with sufficient velocity, and David "Red Stick" Delluci brought his superior speed into the game in his stead. Jhonny "Spelled Wrong" Peralta than blooped a well-placed double into right. That plated another run, but avarice cost the 'H' man his place on the paths, getting cut down at the corner sack attempting to advance after the throw homeward.

Nevertheless, the Clevelanders now led, and after another base on balls, Rodriguez was off to the clubhouse, where he may have shattered a few of those false idols. His barrister would point out that a bum ankle from a tumble down the dugout steps half a fortnight ago is giving the slightly built hurler fits. Rubber replacement Sturdy Scotty Shields fared little better, though, giving up consecutive safeties, and the lead swelled to 4-2, Tribe. But with the bases at SRO (a situation we would see again moments later), Shields whiffed Casanova Sizemore, and got a harmless bounder from Jason Michaels to staunch the hemorrhage.

Down a pair, California could at least take comfort in the presence of the Human Heart Attack toeing the slab. Borowski the Palpitating Pole managed an initial out, but the cursed base on balls energized the Haloes. The Brown Russian golfed a lancet into left, and another series of wide ones to Local Legend Garrett Anderson put three men on. Enter the Hector of this particular epic. Torii speculated slider, and was proven Buffet-esque in this capacity. The breaker came as expected, and Two-I pounced, sending a towering thunderbolt to left, one that arced around the fair pole, nestling deep in the grandstands. Quite a way to ingratiate yourself with a new band of mates, and earn that munificent bi-weekly pay envelope.

The great Mitchum, a devoted base ball fan, was not in attendance, no doubt canoodling with good friend Mary Jane, but even so, it was truly the Night of the Hunter. At the final Station of the Diamond, the entire uniformed contingent of the franchise greeted the hero with ferocious backslaps and a pounding not seen since the Molineaux-Cribb bout — all with good intent, let me assure you.

"I told you when I got here, me and the rally monkey would be good friends," exulted Hunter in the dressing room. Someone has to pal around with that mangy, unlovable ape, one supposes, and cheers to Two-I for taking that particular travail for the team. As for his buried meaning, there was never any doubt in this scribe's brainpan about Hunter's ability at the urgent moment—despite previous failures I may have ascribed upon his inking with the club to his lack of inner fortitude.

The rest of the choir showed another unusual appreciation of Hunter's valor, vim, and vigor by pouring several bottles of unquaffable, domestically crafted and bottled admixtures of barley and hops over the diminutive outfielder. Time was, rest assured, the assembled wretches stained by ink who took as much joy in Two-I's feat as did his mates would have joined in the damp celebrations.

Alas, times have changed.