Keith Testa's Boston Red Sox fan blog

A friend of mine, whose wife was pregnant, headed to the hospital last week and hunkered down for the impending labor, promptly updating his Facebook status by noting that he was playing "the waiting game."

Someone followed by quickly posting this witty reply: "Waiting game sucks. Let's play Hungy Hungry Hippos."

Unfortunately I don't have access to the latter. But I can speak from experience that he's right about the former.

Such was the case Saturday night, when we were all waiting to find out if the Ravens would slip up and the door would open for the Patriots. Such was the case at 1 p.m. Sunday, when I was left to watch the Dolphins-Chiefs game on my computer as if I were actually a fan of either team. Such was the case later that evening, when - at long last - the waiting paid off and someone helped out as the Seahawks toppled the stumbling Jets.

Continue reading "The Waiting Game"

The first domino - and a hefty domino it was - in the free-agent pitching puzzle fell this morning, with the announcement that C.C Sabathia took a seven-year offer from the Yankees. And with it came news that the Red Sox, apparently, are "very much involved" in discussions with former Marlin and Blue Jay hurler A. J. Burnett.

Burnett has been insisting on a five-year deal, and nearly signed one with Atlanta last week if you believe the reports that floated around the internet. Personally, I can't see the Sox extending major money and a five-year deal to a guy whose only impressive body of work came in a contract season.

But that's mostly because I don't want to see it.

Burnett is the classic Kerry Wood conundrum - freakish stuff, feeble body. The dude had a hard time staying healthy for more than a month at a time until this season, when it became obvious that huge piles of money were on the table for the taking. So he dutifully produced an 18-win season after never winning more than 12 games in a year before.

Continue reading "Burnett to Boston? Thanks, but no thanks"

So say you work at the manufacturing plant for GM, and you're the guy who sticks the rear view mirror on the car. Along comes the next automobile, and you slap that damn mirror on so fast and so perfectly you can't help yourself - you break into a minute-long celebratory dance. And man, do you look good.

Nevermind that the next 15 cars pass without receiving the accessory, or that by the end of the day you've completed exactly one of the many tasks for which you are paid.

Who cares, right? Besides, man, do you look good.

Welcome to the minds of Ellis Hobbs and Deltha O'Neal, the Prima Donna cornerbacks that make up half of the Patriots ragged secondary this season. Though they are routinely shredded by opposing receivers for 45 of the 60 minutes on any given Sunday, they can often be seen dancing around the field during the other 15 after making what can only be considered marginally acceptable plays. But boy can they dance.

Continue reading "Quality play? That's secondary to this secondary"

You can't turn on a TV or pick up a newspaper in the greater Boston area these days without the same never-ending argument slapping you squarely in the face: Does Paul Pierce rank among the top 10 players in the NBA?

Celtics broadcaster Mike Gorman puts him in the top three. Magic Johnson puts him somewhere just behind behind Kobe ( http://www.boston.com/sports/basketball/celtics/extras/celtics_blog/). Local loudmouth Michael Felger has him in the top 10. And Pierce anointed himself the league's best player in an interview this off-season.

It's a fascinating discussion. Pierce certainly has the kind of skill set that often leads to such a discourse - consistent jumper, deep range, the ability to create his own shot at any time - and lately he's added another element to the mix: He's absolutely and indisputably clutch. His fadeaway jumper to bury the Hawks last week was the definition of the word. His performance down the stretch in that game and against the Raptors (in another Pierce-led comeback victory) two nights earlier prove he's among the game's greatest closers. There are three Hall of Famers in the Celtics huddle, but there's never a doubt where the ball is going in crunch time.

Continue reading "Truth Time"

Bill Belichick's resume speaks for itself - the man has won three Super Bowls and helped to turn a doormat franchise into a borderline dynasty. As far as people in New England are concerned, his reputation is cemented.

But Sunday night wasn't one for Belichick's personal highlight reel. In fact, he essentially cost the Patriots a game that would likely have driven a dagger through archrival Indy's heart.

Belichick's questionable decisions left the Patriots without a timeout in crunch time, forcing an ill-fated fourth-and-a-mile attempt and leaving the Pats no hope of stopping the clock in the final minutes. What they ended up with were two grossly overthrown lobs from Cassell and a botched lateral play during a maddening final "drive."

Ugly doesn't even do it justice.

Continue reading "Not one for the film vault"

OK, I get it. Everyone in America hates the Patriots.

To a certain extent, I understand it. They have a recent history of domination, they were found guilty of a rather offensive crime, their coach isn't particularly pleasant, and the players offer little in the way of entertaining soundbites. The hatred has grown to the point that fans all around the country celebrated when Tom Brady went down with injury, noting - whether out loud or to themselves - that it was about time something bad happened to the Pats.

But is it really impossible at this point to imagine the Patriots winning a game outright? It seems that every Pats win is followed by some griping or whining from the other side - be it bitchy players (see Tomlinson, Ladainian) or cranky coaches or biased television commentators (see Jackson, Tom). And now there's a report on ESPN.com that the Rams compiled and sent a tape to the NFL of calls that should have been made during Sunday's game.

Continue reading "15 yards for unnecessary whining"

I blinked my eyes and - poof - the Darius Miles experiment was over.

The Celtics waived the lanky forward this week, after a mini-audition throughout the pre-season that featured short bursts of minutes. He may have never amounted to anything legitimate, but now we'll never know. Everyone said the Celtics were "taking a gamble" by signing Miles in the off-season, but what kind of gamble is it if you never let the guy have a chance.

Here's the thing: The Celtics are well-positioned to win, with or without Miles. He was never going to be a critical factor in the success of the team this season. That being said, I'd have loved to see him over the course of 82 games.

Obviously, Miles is still hobbled by knee problems that have plagued his entire career. He was a step or two slower and far less explosive in the games I saw him play in. But it's not pain that's slowing him down so much as rust. And you only shake off rust over time.

Continue reading "Done experimenting"

Baseball is an amazing game: You spend six months falling in love with 25 guys you've never met, spend almost 200 nights tuning in to see how they do, and then with one half-swing by J.D. Drew it's all over.

Eleven nailbiting and tantalizing postseason games, and that's it. See you next spring.

But what makes baseball unique - an occupation, really - is that the minute one season ends, another begins. I'll dutifully tune in to the World Series to see what's happening, of course, by my focus will be elsewhere. I'm already much more interested in watching the shape the 2009 Red Sox will take.

And there's already plenty to talk about.

Due to scouting diligence and the smarts to hang on to prospects, the Sox are pretty well set up to contend for a long time. The pitching staff is as deep as any in baseball - factor in a healthy Beckett with Matsuzaka, Lester, Wakefield, Buchholz, Masterson and future contributors Michael Bowden and Daniel Bard, and there's no shortage of quality arms available - and the lineup is sprinkled with homegrown talent, as well. Quite simply, there aren't many holes to fill.

Continue reading "Warming up the hot stove"

I remember reading a headline a few months back about how Sam Cassell had announced he was going to play one more year and then become an assistant coach in the league, and I recall thinking to myself, "You know what, good for him. I wish him the best with whatever team he signs with this season."

That was followed by a frightening and terrible realization: "Wait, he means in Boston?"

Fast forward to last week, and the first three pre-season games for the defending world champion Boston Celtics. Two things stood out in my mind almost immediately: Bill Walker can play in this league, and Gabe Pruitt could be a solid back-up combo guard. Whether either of those things happens in Boston remains to be seen, and one of the reasons that's an issue is Cassell.

Continue reading "Ready for the roster rollercoaster"

So moved was I by the Patriots play on Sunday night that I picked up my cell phone in the middle of the second period and punched in the following analytical text message:

Patriots = bad at football.

The most distressing fact of all is that even if I had an entire keyboard and an empty page in front of me, I'm not sure I could say anything more.

I can't remember the last time I turned a Patriots game off with more than a quarter to play, and yet there I was Sunday night, choosing to fill time flipping between the NLCS and a re-run of a pre-season basketball game that didn't even feature a team from the entire east coast rather than watch the display of inteptitude in San Diego. I really couldn't take it anymore.

I know, I know; I can guess what you're saying: "Oh my, poor Patriots fan, can't stand to watch games without their precious quarterback under center." You know what: I wish that was the case. But it's not. I'm frustrated because with Tom Brady apparently went all knowledge of how to a)cover anybody; b)block anybody or c)muster some freakin' pride and hit somebody.

Continue reading "Texting the truth"