9.8, 9.7, 8.6— those are Usain Bolt times, they’re not pitch counts! Holy hell, Cliff, you big-hooved beast of excellence. Will you show me your (curve)balls in chart form? Oh do show me your curveballs in chart form:
Ah! Hot. Jam you. Hot. Jam you. Those little dots look like lonely oranges that fell off a hypothetical tree. Poor things. No one wants to hit them.
Charlie took Lee out after eight, because Charlie manages with his heart, and brought in Jonathan Papelbon so he could pitch in front of his old fans. Cinco Ocho shut the Sox down and then spoke with Gregg Murphy and that extra G after the game… or, at least he tried to. Amped up closers with alter egos that refer to themselves simultaneously in the second- and third-person don’t do well with closed-ended questions:
Video of Lee’s excellence after the jump.
Charts via Brooks Baseball