6th inning

In all fairness, Schilling pitched decently. But not well enough to back up his penchant for talking a big game. To talk like that, you need to pitch a 1-, 2-hitter, maybe. Anything else, you're the same as the guy who calls his last beirut cup and then just hits the rim. (And then inevitably, his partner goes, "Dude, how cool would it have been if you had hit that?")

Also, shouldn't you outgrow talking sh*t after the age of, like, 27? I mean, geez, he's 41. When you're that age, your vocabulary should be dominated by expressions like "trousers," "slickers," "blouses," "cross," (aka "angry") and "slacks."

I guess Schilling's mom never talked to him ("stern"--there's another one) about using "expletives."

Sweet Christ, get the pine tar off your hats. You look ridiculous.

You know how there's rules against tattoos in the MLB? Because they're distracting? HOW DOES THAT RULE NOT APPLY TO BOSTON'S REPERTOIRE OF HAIRCUTS? It's like in Teen Wolf when Michael J. Fox wins all those games as THE WOLF, mainly because who wants to play man-to-man against someone whose body sweat is multiplied exponentially by a full suit of hair? How can you pitch to Johnny Damon? Poor Tanyon, it must be like pitching to a unicorn or something equally mythical and distracting and ultimately useless.