*Picture taken by my friend Kelly, who may well be the best I've ever seen. You can catch more of her fantastic stuff at www.sittingstill.net*
When I grow up? I wanna be Mike Lowell.
Forget the fact I'm already older than he is, whatever athletic ability I once had is now confined to playing whiffle ball with my kids, and the only thing he and I have in common is we both rock the salt and pepper goatee.
He's gone through an off-season where he was traded but wasn't, a season of sporadic a/b's intermingled with trips to the DL and Pawtucket and apparently was going to be traded to the freaking YANKEES, of all teams, in a 3 way deal with Texas.
Yet he's handled it all with more grace and dignity than I can manage going to church, he's always the first guy off the steps of the dugout to man hug somebody who just went yard, and I'm fairly certain he could spend a month watching Trot and Rakes and utter "what special little guys you have. Full of energy!"
So, with Youk going on the DL with a pulled thumb muscle (I didn't even know this was possible. If this isn't proof enough that there is a plague of biblical proportions residing over Fenway Park right now I don't know WHAT is.) Scenic got the start at first tonight.
All he did was jack one over the Monster on the FIRST PITCH he sees, look like, well, Youk at first while making some sweet defensive plays and actually help calm Beckett down when the benches emptied in the 8th, which I'm pretty makes him qualified to be the Ambassador to the Middle East.
Good to see you again, Mikey.
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