Remember how you felt at 11:00 AM on Monday? How the team had just gone on a three game winning streak and was fighting for .500? Remember how the Sox seemed like a Major League Baseball team?

And then yesterday happened, and it actually wasn't so bad because even though the manager and ump had made a mess of things the team at least seemed like it could have won that game left to its own devices.

All those slightly positive feelings? Gone.

Lester was terrible. Scott Atchison was alright and kept the Sox alive, but then Mark Melancon came in and relieved us of any last lingering bits of hope we had for him in the immediate future, surrendering three homers without recording an out--most batting practice pitchers are throwing better than he is right now. Justin Thomas allowed another one. Then, because Bobby Valentine couldn't take this game where he can't possibly be blamed for the loss and just run with it, he went ahead and brought in Vicente Padilla to pitch the ninth instead of saving him for tomorrow by running Darnell McDonald out there. Fantastic.

That Padilla proceeded to give up the sixth Texas homer of the night was the cherry on top.

What a terrible night.