There are certainly a few valid reasons not to throw your heart into believing in this Red Sox team that undoubtedly will finish with the best regular-season record in team history.
That you rooted years for the Sox pre-2004 — or BTT, Before The Titles — is certainly one. Waiting for the other Sox to drop is seared into a lot of us like a red-hot brand on a cow’s backside. Sorry, that doesn’t just wash away at the sight of those three sterling trophies and the tears of Yankees fans. It’s always going to be there. You youngins’ couldn't understand.
You might not believe in this bullpen. The reasons for that are obvious, and you then you realize lesser arrays of talent have been twisted inside out by the intense autumn pressure.
That the starting pitching staff — and most of the lineup, as well — hasn’t exactly been an overwhelming force when it comes to postseason history (ahem, David Price) is something for some to fret about.
And even more worry about how Alex Cora might fare when every decision is magnified and a 162-game masterpiece can turn into a messy fingerpainting in the blink of an eye. This is Cora’s first year as a manager and he was a bench coach for one season prior to that. He had more experience as a TV analyst (three) than on a major-league bench (two). What in the name of Aaron Boone is going on around here?
Sorry, but I draw the line at Cora. I’ve got the BTT scars if you want to see them, hold my breath when any starter walks off the mound, worry when Kimbrel doesn’t have a three-run lead and a clean inning, and whether guys like Mookie Betts and Xander Bogaerts will bring the lumber in October.
But I’m all in on Cora. In Bill We Trust Bloviators and Brad-Bots please step aside. The Cuckoo For Cora crowd is coming on strong and there’s no stopping this train.
Tuesday night in Philadelphia was just the latest example.