Each loss seems more excruciating than the last for the Red Sox. (AP Photo)
I'm a loser
I'm a loser
And I'm not what I appear to be
The Beatles - "I'm A Loser"
Another night. Another blown lead. Another loss. The Red Sox tailspin has passed the event horizon as Sucktember continues to swirl voraciously around them, eating any hope of a Postseason in a methodical and gluttonous manner. The Red Sox season is terminal, and the only thing to hope for is that it ends swiftly and painlessly. I've scoffed at the notion of not wanting the Red Sox to make playoffs, and even a few days ago that seemed like a preposterous idea, but now I'm beginning to understand that logic.
The Red Sox become like a family member during the course of a baseball season. They're there every night, make you happy, sad, and frustrated - but in the end they're family, and you have their back in dire times because you love them - but more importantly, because you have no other choice, they're family.
I've had the Red Sox back, but I have to look honesty in the eye - they're sick, and it's inhumane to have them flounder about anymore - they crossed over to the other side of the River Styx weeks ago, and the Orioles are doing us a favor by playing the role of Dr. Jack Kevorkian. It's become too painful to watch, this month has felt like Groundhogs Day, and I just want it to end. I'll still hold onto that last sliver of hope buried inside me, but deep down it feels false, and I'm sick of fooling myself. These Red Sox have been dead for weeks, it's time to pull the plug.