Yankees 8, Red Sox 5 (10)

Tonight's question and answer session:

Q: How worse could matters have gone for Boston this evening?

A: Consider what poor shape they would have been in had they won: Four out in the loss column, third place in the Wild Card. Due back in a matter of hours behind injured David Wells. Jonathan Papelbon, after a 40-plus pitch meatgrinder, unavailable for duty. Up against Corey Lidle, an innings-eater willing to go seven innings if it means pitching underhand.

Now? Now the Red Sox are six out in the loss column, and still third in the Wild Card, with everything else the same. Due back, etc. Jonathan Papelbon, etc.

(Understand, the Yankees came into the series with the advantage of a front-runner; Torre was willing sacrifice a game--i.e., start Sydney Ponson in Friday's nightcap--if it meant preserving the rotation and resting the bullpen. Well, behind Abreu, Damon and Melky, the Yankees went ahead and won that game and the two subsequent, leaving Torre, theoretically, with the rest-the-bullpen game still in his pocket. Do Myers-Proctor-Rivera come out tomorrow in a 4-2 New York lead? Probably. A 4-2 deficit? Maybe not.)

Q: Had Theo Epstein hired a beer vendor to manage tonight's game, would the Red Sox had won?

A: Yes. Not bringing Jonathan Papelbon out to start the eighth inning was, I think, the worst managerial decision by a Red Sox manager since Grady Little left Pedro in to face Jorge Posada in the eighth inning, Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS (which in turn was the worst managerial decision ever made since the one made ten minutes earlier, sending Pedro out to start the eighth. Okay, good times. Back to tonight.)

Consider. Papelbon was coming off four days' rest, which meant at least three more days than any other relief pitcher plying his trade in the Greater Boston area. Did anyone doubt he'd be summoned before the ninth, which probably meant he'd be pulled into a jam, at a time when a four-day rest would mean command, and not fatigue, would be the main consideration, against the most patient team in baseball?

Never mind. Mike Timlin, a Yankee-killer of years gone past, surrenders an infield hit to Damon. Then he hits Jeter. Left-handed specialist Javier Lopez comes in, surrenders a fifty-pitch walk to Abreu to load the bases. Whereupon he is yanked for Papelbon . . . with lefty Giambi due up.

Look, I live in Houston, so I see enough from Phil Garner to go, "Huh?", from time to time. Okay, six times a week. But here we have a real head-scratcher. Lord knows I'm rooting for the guy to screw up, I want his team to lose, but really: What the crap was Francona thinking? I mean, what? In a situation like that, you either bring in Lopez to face both Abreu and Giambi, and damn the consequences, or you bring in Papelbon to replace Timlin.

But really, you don't bring Timlin in in the first place.

Which brings me to the beer vendor.

Tom Boswell once had a piece of advice for Tony LaRussa as one of his teams choked away another World Series: STOP THINKING. It would be wise counsel to his descendants, who were brought up on the fact that 18 years ago, Rick Honeycutt worked the eighth inning for the A's, and Dennis Eckersley the ninth, and 'twas ever thus.

I happen to agree with that system, by and large.

But if your best relief pitcher is your most-rested pitcher is the one pitcher in your bullpen who hasn't pitched in five days?

You bring him in. To start the eighth. That's the beer vendor's move. As it turned out, Papelbon needed to go two full innings anyway . . . only after the bases were loaded with none out. He did work his way out of trouble in the eighth, surrendering only a run on Giambi's sac fly, but with the tying run on third, he labored much more than he needed to to get the second and third outs. By the time Derek Jeter came to the mound in the ninth, he was spent.

Q: With the tying run on third, two outs; with Jeter apt to try to punch the ball to right against a hard-throwing right-hander such as Papelbon, what possible reason did right fielder Willy Mo Pena have for playing back nearly at the warning track, well out of reach of a Jeter bloop that otherwise would have been a game-ending pop-up had he been playing his regular position?

A: None.

Q: Once Jeter drove Melky in to tie the game, did we know it was over, and that the Yankees would win?

A: No. We knew it was over and that the Yankees would win once Doug Mirabelli's comebacker settled in Rivera's glove, ending the ninth. You never can tell with the Red Sox--except when they send reliever Hansen to the mound to start the tenth in a tie game. (Allow me to write Jim Rome's monologue for tomorrow: "What, was Bob Stanley not available? Al Nipper otherwise occupied? Certainly Jim Burton could have come in? Perhaps the immortal Bobby Sprowl could have given them some innings?") Home run, double, home run. A bit of excitement in the bottom of the ninth, but basically, that was it.

I'm going to bed.