Not even 20 games into it, the whole abbreviated baseball season — just like this whole endless calendar year — has dragged like the dog days of August, hasn’t it?
If there’s one year to be lousy, it might as well be this. These hapless, hopeless Red Sox will be done soon enough, I suppose, heading into the offseason with roughly as many wins as Roger Clemens collected in 1986. That would be 24. I’m taking the under.
The Red Sox entered Thursday with a 6-12 record and a .333 winning percentage, which over a full season would be their worst since the 1932 star-studded squad of Rabbit Warstler, Urbane Pickering, and Smead Jolley went 43-111 for a wretched .