We come at this a bit uninformed: we didn’t watch a single pitch of any of last night’s action. But we have read up, and we did follow (in cursory fashion) the action of the month of September. All we can really say is that the Sox are right where they should be, on their way home to clean out their lockers. The September team was not the mid-summer team, which was the team the front office wanted. That’s life. Had the Sox come out of the winter with a rotation including Kyle Weiland, Andrew Miller, Time Wakefield, nobody would have picked them to win a damn thing, and that’s the team we got (and, to an extent, Theo gave us) in the last 30 days. They go home getting what they deserved, and while it happened in gut-wrenching fashion we can’t help but think this was essentially a mercy killing, the dispatch of a team that had neither a right to be in the playoffs nor any future in that tournament (had they made it at all).
This was no 1975, 1978, 1986, 2003. We lived through all of those. We feel nothing like we did freshman year in college when the Sox blew it. We feel nothing like we did on that red-eye home from California the night Aaron Boone hit it out, just before we boarded the place. 1986 and 2003, in particular, were small sample size freak-shows of tragic decision-making and performance. This, on the other hand, was a terrible performance over a long stretch by what was, in the end, a lineup and pitching staff that (had they been in place in April) nobody would have pegged to win even 81 games. In the end, this was the just result, and there should be no hyperbolizing or complaining about that.