High larceny on the base-paths!

After Saturday night's festival of clouts, I was curious yesterday whether we'd see another match defined by brawny four-ply drives. Fortunately, the evening's contest was a thinking-man's affair, with the two teams engaged in a chess match of fundamental base-ball. The Bostons triumphed, making it a clean sweep of the week-end tilt.

The Gothams scored in the third, but that ace was equalized the very next chapter when the Gazelle-like Ellsbury scampered home from the third sack after a long "sacrifice" rap by The Colossus. The "score" was tied, and Ellsbury's swiftness down the base-paths was just a foreshadowing of the excitement to come!

For just two chapters later, Ellsbury again was occupying on the third sack, sitting in the catbird seat as Andy "Astro" Pettitte went through his usual hurling machinations. As a southpaw, Pettitte's pretzel delivery puts the third sack in his blind spot. On one certain pitch, ol' speedy Ellsbury had wandered far from the safety of the pillow, quietly padding into a no-man's land for base-ball running men!

And then it happened: Pettitte wheeled to deliver the pill, and as his frame rotated toward the batter he glimpsed a flash of speed racing its way to home. An awkward delivery was not enough to catch ol' Jacoby, who slid under the backstop's pill-filled mitten in what is the most stupendous bit of bag burgling I ever have seen.

The surprised Rooters assembled at the park created such a joy-fueled cacophony that local constables were called to investigate the disturbance. Men cheered, the few women in attendace wept and convulsed, and children stood in awe of the bullet-like speed of our Jacoby Ellsbury.

The ambition and fortitude required to tackle such a feat is higher than most mortals every will experience, yet it is clearly something our Heroes in Flannel quaff by the flagonful before each match.

Huzzah for a week-end of victories!