Sports Redux: Oh My God, The Indians Win It!

Harry Doyle and the Friends of the Feathered are breathing a sigh of relief this morning. After two losses at Fenway, Chief Wahoo's Tribe turned on the juice Wednesday night, pounding out a season-high 18 hits and smacking the Sox 8-4. Boston gave Daisuke a 2-0 lead after four innings, but Dice had been living dangerously all along, and Cleveland finally started to make him pay. And pay and pay.

The Indians score two in the fifth (on a groundout and a Travis Hafner double), then blew it open with four in the sixth on a parade of hits, high(low)lighted by a Grady Sizemore home run. The Red Sox just couldn't string any hits together; they got 10, all told, but couldn't bring anyone home until Mike Lowell's 2-run homer in the 8th. Too little, too late. The good news is that the hitting streaks continue for Kevin Youkilis (22 games) and Dustin Pedroia (10 games), and David Ortiz is back (1-for-4).

Want someone to blame? How about Dan Shaughnessy, for his sunshine and puppies column in yesterday's Globe. Every time Dan writes one of these uncharacteristic upbeat pieces, we're reminded of the old quote about Calvin "Silent Cal" Coolidge: "He opened his mouth and a moth flew out". Thanks a bundle, Dan.

So the Sox have a day to regroup before the Yankees come to town. Tim Wakefield and Chien-Ming Wang kick off that series on Friday. The Yanks will come in riding an incendiary one-game winning streak, and are no doubt happy to be away from Toronto's seamy underbelly, where Alex Rodriguez and a mystery blonde were creating an international incident and giving the Post a welcome distraction from the team's crummy May. (Last night, A-Rod continued to degrade US-Canada relations with a bush-league stunt on the basepaths.)

Bad news all around in the postseason. The Ducks went up 2-0 on Ottawa in the Finals, which means we're halfway towards the Stanley Cup spending another year in a climate where it doesn't belong. And the noxious Spurs advanced to the NBA Finals, blowing out Utah 109-84 to close out the Western Finals. What a moment in the postgame ceremony, when Tim Duncan gave Manu Ginobili a pat on the back and Manu reflexively flung himself into the second row.

But the NBA spotlight was stolen again by Kobe Bryant, starring in the role of Hamlet on ESPN Radio all day. First, he told Stephen A. Smith that he absolutely, positively, unquestionably wants the Lakers to trade him. Then, a few hours later, he told Dan Patrick that he loves L.A. and wants to retire a Laker. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!

So everyone's buzzing about where Kobe might get traded to, and the word "Celtics" keeps hanging uncomfortably around the conversation. Don't make us put our foot down. Just don't. We have a full jug of Danny Ainge Kool-Aid steeping in the fridge, and are prepared to reluctantly drink it this summer. But only this one particular recipe.

Picture from BobUecker.com. Now excuse us while we hunt down some Mr. Belvedere reruns.