I'm not going to sit here and preach to the vast reaches of the interweb that the Red Sox are going to dominate the rest of this series. As Tampa has proven, they aren't kids any longer. They brought their eye black, their tape, mouthpiece and extra heavy gloves and are ready, willing and able to duke it out with us.

 But, deep down, I know we can take 'em.

 So tonight. Like Tito said; being able to give the ball to Beckett is something special. Even if the Commander isn't firing 97 mph fastballs through Johnny Gomes' kidneys, he still knows how to compete.
 
 And that, my friends, is why I keep the faith. Because the majority of these guys on this team just know how to win. Sure, things looked rough, of course they did. Do you think these Red Sox are just going to hand you another World Championship on a silver platter without making your heart race a little bit? Well, bite your tongue, because we will be having none of that. I want flair and excitment, I want to see players mixed and matched, pinch hits, commanding pitching, stellar defense, and some long ball too - ya know, for the women and children.

 I was watching Josh's media session, and one of his comments in particular stuck with me. "Happy Flight".
  "We were saying the whole time, we need to make this 'happy flight'. A win did that tonight."

 So, there were the Cowboy Uppers, The Idiots, and now the Happy Flights?

 Whatever works, Commander. I'll take it.

 Resuming Radio Silence