"Missles Baby!" And My Little Guy Baby Cakes
Jon Lester pitched yesterday, and he pitched well. Real well! Read this from the Herald, and I'll comment afterwards. Title click for the entire article.......
" He rolled into the Red Sox clubhouse Friday afternoon, hugged teammate Brandon Moss, and shouted to anyone who would listen how well he had just pitched in a minor league game.
“Absolute missiles, baby!” a smiling Jon Lester bragged with delight.
There weren’t a lot of people in the room to hear Lester glowingly describe his effectively thrown heater, but it didn’t matter. Neither did the fact the extent of his outing only lasted a breezy 20 pitches.
This was the first time he had thrown to enemy hitters with real umpires calling balls and strikes, even though it was just two innings against Minnesota’s Triple-A affiliate Rochester. After hearing those dreadful words back in August, when doctors told him he had anaplastic large cell lymphoma, it finally felt like he was back in his world in the truest sense. You could see the joy in his face.
Lester struck out two of the first three hitters, and most of the rest couldn’t get around on his pitches. It’s one thing to throw against your own teammates, it’s another to make opposing hitters react the same way they used to before you got sick."
Peter here, and Jon, you have a right to brag. And no one could be happier for you than me. I mean it. Soon after spring training ends and the 2007 Boston Red Sox move north and west to KC, we will see you. At Fenway. With the big club. And when you stroll to the mound, your eyes misting over just enough to notice, look around the stands. At us. We love you. You can see it in our faces, and you can hear the deafening cheers and hands brought together with glee. And look at all our smiling faces. You inspire us. That's why we love you.
On a sad note, my cat, who has been my best buddy since 1988 (that's right! He's older than some of my great readers), had to go to the vet's yesterday, brought by a tearful Dad, me. I hope he can come home today or tomorrow, but I made a promise to him, and his brother, who passed away in March '01. Man, sometimes March sucks. My Dad passed in March '01 also. Talk about a tough time for Peter....boy. Back to my little buddy. This is so tough. His name is Baby Cakes, and he's been the constant "always there" never fail little guy. His brother, too. I hope he can come home, to HIS home. I have no one to talk to. And I'm so sad. But I promised him, and his brother, that they'll never suffer. So, well, we'll see. I hope I don't celebrate his May birthday alone, but if I have to, I will.
I have to go.....the keys are blurred. Baby Cakes, I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH.