More importantly though, this idea that the Phils’ pitching would have an easier time shutting down the Boston offense than vice-versa seems patently absurd. The Boston offense is a fucking machine…last I checked all you Philly cats were constantly whining about your underperforming O. Well, maybe not all of you…but those who were have been pretty loud about it. Regardless…Boston has Philly beat on offense, and it’s not really particularly close, even if Howard and Utley were playing all the way up to their abilities.

Strange Attractor? That’s a mythical line in the in the standings that only the A’s announcers talk about.

The few dozen remaining A’s fans will be watching the coming A’s Royals series very closely this week. The A’s rest day today allows them to throw their remaining decent pitchers at the Royals, who are riding a wave of Gordon/Hosmer/Moutsakis optimism.

As for the game yesterday in Chicago. Adam Dunn is the price of offense these days. $ 14M per year, and the ball he hit off Moscoso was presaged by his warning track shot his first time at bat. So why throw the exact same pitch in the exact same spot? Well, when you have no command, you just throw it up there and pray. Moscoso’s ERA is still better than last year’s emergency starter, Vin Mazzarro, who is now with the aforementioned Royals, but isn’t scheduled to start against the A’s.

Of course, we have to mention the 4 A’s errors in the last two games. At 27th in the league, their fielding is right in line with their offense. Sizemore’s error was roundly criticized by Fosse, as well it should have been, even allowing for him attempting to learn the position while playing it.

Try again: Something splattered real hard against the strange attractor yesterday afternoon. Pathological examination (ie, as in the ac of examinationt itself was pathological, since any idiot could have just read the uniforms) revealed traces of collagen with fin rot and we must conclude that that mess dripping off the sides of the attractor was none other than the Feesh. By this morning, you already had to chase the hungry cats away from the carrion hypothetical construct that was Scrooge McLoria and the Chihuahua’s incomprehensible twenty-five million dollar commitment to Vasquez and Buck, such was the temptation of the stench. The dinger-driven offensive burp of the preceding couple of games was nowhere to be seen; the Feesh probably figured that if they were gonna lose anyway, why not just expend the energy necessary to score one run and achieve a liminal respectability than wear themselves out scoring three more and miring themselves in that gambit again.

And speaking of toilets – which are full of water, Craig, and as such might equivocate to the Feesh equivalent of way a guy twists and turns to make the haystack when his parachute Roman candles – Steve Kilbey of the great Australian rock band, the Church, noted last year during the band’s twenty-five year anniversary tour of the Great Satan that the water in their hotel womb toilets was swirling the wrong way, as Kilbey plaintively put it, “no matter wha’ ye do.” Just so. The rumblings being heard on local Tawk Raydio (that’s how the callers would spell it, being morons even if English were their first language) calling for the therapeutic immolation of the manager – a lot of them are confusing Edwin Rodriguez with Eric Spoelstra – are further indications of how thickly despair has settled in down here.

All two or three hundred Feesh fans are gasping in horror at the sight of the Mutts, a mere half game behind them, rising up beneath the attractor looking like a largemouth bass to a dragonfly that flew too low. BC, your moment of vindication is upon you. I recommend some duct tape rolled around your fingers, sticky side out, to get it off.

The Sox though, well they are who I expected they’d be; dominant. Early on I spent a small amount of time trying to calm some commenters down who were panicking about how awful the Sox were. I think I said they’d get better, Papelbon was still a lights out closer, Papi was hitting and Crawford was going to be the guy he’s always been, or some such. To be fair I also said Vernon Wells and John Buck were pretty good too, so I’m not exactly Miz Cleo. It’s nice when every once in a while I get to be right, if only a little right. In a way I’m glad the Sox are doing well, though I wish they’d go blow out the someone else’s team and not my poor beleaguered Beavermen. The division isn’t all Yankees and the Ray’s have to really claw for it if they want to be in to the playoffs.

I don’t recall ever ranking the Jays higher than the Sox but meh, if I did, then what of that? It was likely true back then. It certainly isn’t true now. I’d rank a taxidermically stuffed beaver higher than the Beavermen at the moment.