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Josh Q. Public: Ooo wee ooo, I look just like Buddy Holly. Oh oh, and you’re Mary Tyler Moore. I don’t care what they say about us anyway. I don’t care about that. I don’t care about that. -Weezer
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Just a quick one. A very quick one. Yup. Like my main man Derrick Coleman always says: Woopty damn doo! Big deal. So what? So the Yankees got lucky. So they were feeling a little plucky. Everything’s not so ducky. They’re still in last aren’t they? Hey daddy-o, I don’t wanna go, down to the basement. There’s somethin’ down there. Hey, Romeo, I don’t wanna go, down to the basement. The Sox are still in first aren’t they? I am number one. No matter if you like it. Ready take this, sit down and write it. I am number one. Hey hey hey hey hey hey. The Yankees are still 1-8 aren’t they? Not so great are they? Too little too late aren’t they? 
The Red Sox still have the best rotation in the American League don’t they? Simply the best. Better than all the rest. The Red Sox still have the best closer in baseball don’t they? How do you spell relief? P-a-p-e-l-b-o-n. The Red Sox have still shown they have the desire. Shown they have the fire. Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire. Coming back game after game. Hummin’. Comin’ at cha. And you know I had to gat ya. The Sox got the Yankees four times in a row. So they lost one. We’re one, but we’re not the same. Well we hurt each other. Then we do it again. The Sox are gonna hurt the Yankees again. Don’t you worry. In every life we have some trouble. When you worry you make it double. Don’t worry, be happy. Don’t worry. Be happy. Roll Sox roll!
The Yankees are only the second team in the past 19 seasons (since 1989), to go this far into a season (21 games) without recording a save. In 2002, the Tigers notched their first save in their 26th game (9-17 at the time on May 1), on their way to a 106-loss season.
Public Acknowledgements: Ramones, Nelly, Tina Turner, Rolaids, Jerry Lee Lewis, Cypress Hill, U2 and Bobby McFerrin.
Public Spectacle:
Peace out homies. Sox Two and Even!
Lusitania sunk. Andrea Doria sunk. Poseidon sunk. Bismark sunk. It’s a hit. Oh No! You sunk my battleship. The Red Sox sunk the Yankees’ battleship once again. Sunk it for the fourth straight time. Their batlleship’s now been sunk seven times in a row. Getting cut up like Vincent Van Gough. So sit back and enjoy the show. I enjoyed the show last night. I enjoyed Matsuzaka, Matsuzaka, Matsuzaka. The new king of ole Fenway Pahka. Beating the Bombers twice in six days. Double your pleasure. Double your fun. I enjoyed watching the Greek God of Walks go yard. I enjoyed watching Yankee fans get so excited that they just can’t hide it. They were about to lose control and I think I like it. I like these never say die Sox. These rally cry Sox. Sweet as apple pie Sox. Julio Lugo was sweet. Julio Lugo couldn’t be beat. Julio Lugo tough as concrete. Tough with the bomb. Tough with 
the bomb, three ribbies. a double and a stolen base. You know who wasn’t tough? Wasn’t tough enough? Who wasn’t rough enough? Who didn’t have the wah oh oh oh oh, wah oh oh oh, the right stuff? Little Andy Petite. That’s who. That’s who caused a hullabaloo. That’s who got muscled into. Petite allowed five runs, six hits and five walks in 4 2/3 innings. Ha ha ha! That makes eleven times that New York’s starters failed to pitch five innings. You know who else got muscled into? Huh? Do ya? Big Mo. Big Mo, coming up small. Big Mo, tossing up the big meatball. Mama mia, that’s a spicey meatball. Tossed up a spicey meatball to Mike Lowell. Tossed up a spicey meatball to Jason Varitek. Tossed up a spicey meatball to Coconut Crisp. Tossed up four runs worth of spicey meatballs. It’s a hit. Oh No! You sunk my battleship! Roll Sox roll, baby! Roll Sox roll!
soul brother. Check it out now, the funk soul brother. Can we? Thank you. Like the original funk soul brother, Elvis Aron Presley, always says: “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Thank you New York Yankees pitching staff. Thank you for putting your team in dead last place. Getting worse at a dead fast pace. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. How sweet does this sound? Whooosh. Sounds sweep. Don’t it? Huh? Don’t it? Ha ha ha! Swept by the Sox. Swept by the Rays. About to get swept again. Haven’t won since I don’t know when. You go back Jack, do it again. Wheel turnin’ round and round. You go back Jack, do it again. Ready for sweep number three? Like the man says: For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re
out. At the old ball game. The Yankees are out. Down and out. Down for the count. Down goes Frazier! Down goes Bullwinkle. Out with a bad hammy. Bad MRI exammy. No more peanut butter and jammy. Down goes Mr. Wang, No Offense. Carl Crawford grand slammy. From filet mignon to fried spammy. Down goes Mariano. Getting crushed from here to Alabammy. Making Bomber fans sick like a batch of bad clammies. From a lion to a lamby. Down goes Carla Pavano. Bad elbow. Crying to his 
mammy. Doesn’t give a damny. Down goes Not OK Igawa. Send him back to Japanny. Throwing like your great granny Fanny. Meanwhile, back at the ranch. Curt Schilling is humming along nicely. Josh Boom Boom Becket is drumming along nicely. Matsuzaka, Matsuzaka, Matsuzaka, the new king of ole Fenway Pahka is coming along nicely. Papelbon is strumming along nicely. And with Jon Lester do up any minute, the entire staff will be in tip top shape. Tip top shape I tell you. Yup, we’re the chief, we’re the king but above everything, we’re the most tip top, Top Cats! Roll Sox roll!