I talked to a lot of people yesterday about the final play of Wednesday night’s Game Two between the Yanks and Twins. Here is Joe Sheehan’s salient take from his latest column for Baseball Prospectus:

The final play of the game has been the subject of a lot of debate, with the consensus being that Jacque Jones screwed up. I don’t know that it’s so easy to grill him. Upon catching Hideki Matsui’s line drive, Jones was on his heels. He appeared to focus more on getting rid of the ball quickly rather than making a good throw, and as such becomes the first player in history to be criticized for hitting the cutoff man.

It’s a split-second choice–set up for a good throw or just fire–and I don’t know that I can ride Jones for the decision he made. What we do know is that Jeter made his own decision, to put his head down and run. That, as much as Jones’ poor throw, was the key part of the game-ending play. It’s not easy to score from third on a fly ball to right field in Yankee Stadium. Jeter did, displaying the excellent baserunning skills that are a hallmark of his game.

Stand and Deliver…Pretty Please

In case you hadn’t noticed–and I know that you have–the Red Sox are creaming the Angels. The series moves to Beantown this weekend with the Sox up 2-0. New York Times columnist George Vecsey is ready to see this Boston team go all the way and win a championship:

I know they’re trying. Let’s make it clear that these current Sox have very little to do with the past. Every year is different. Last year, Kevin Millar introduced the cowboy-up theme. This year, Johnny Damon has pronounced the Red Sox to no longer be cowboys but idiots.
Fine. Whatever it takes. These 2004 Sox need to do away with all those failures and fumbles committed by other people in other decades, other centuries. Give us all a break.

They need to do it not only for the so-called Red Sox Nation but also for baseball fans out there in America who have taken on the Sox as some kind of auxiliary cause.

…In my early childhood, I was a fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers, with charismatic, skilled legends at almost every position. From 1946 through 1954, we ultimately experienced terrible pain every autumn.

Our suffering seemed like forever. In reality, it was only nine years. In 1955, the Boys of Summer won a World Series. Just one. I can still hear the bells chiming all over Brooklyn. The Sox haven’t won a World Series since 1918.

Might I suggest they are overdue?

Please, somebody, cowboy or idiot, star or sub, please take everybody – even those of us who observe from an emotional distance – out of this ancient misery.