The Red Sox have a new ace this postseason, one who’s baffled the Yankee bats to the point of frustration while showing a touch of class lacking in his more famous teammate. With tension still in the air at Fenway Park after a wild Saturday afternoon and a washed out Sunday, Tim Wakefield knuckled down to subdue the Yanks for the second time in this series. Boston is now even at two games apiece.

In a rematch of the ALCS opener, the score was much closer but the result the same. Mike Mussina dueled Wakefield admirably, looking sharper than he had in the postseason and striking out 10. But as before, Moose had trouble keeping the ball in the park, and he gave up solo homers to Todd Walker and Trot Nixon. His control helped him to keep the game close, but a one-out walk to Kevin Millar in the seventh sealed his fate. The Sox loaded the bases against Mussina, and then called in catcher Jason Varitek from the bullpen to pinch hit for Doug Mirabelli, Wakefield’s regular catcher. Lefty Felix Heredia was ready in the bullpen to face the lefty Varitek, but manager Joe Torre decided to trust his starter, and though Varitek hit a grounder to Derek Jeter, he beat the throw to first, and the Sox had their third run of the night.

The Yanks had their opportunities against Wakefield. Last time out, he’d held them to two meager singles before leading off the seventh with a pair of walks and then exiting. This time he allowed the first two runners of the ballgame, Alfonso Soriano and Jeter, to get on base. But Jason Giambi’s liner was speared by Millar, who easily doubled Jeter off of first, and the Yanks ended up failing to score. In the third, a hit by pitch, a steal and a passed ball got David Dellucci all the way to third base, but again, the Yankee run died there.

The Yanks finally put one over on Wakefield in the fifth, but even then, they were left wanting. Dellucci and Soriano stroked one-out singles, and then Jeter lined one down the third base line which hit the bag and then ricocheted. One run scored, but had the ball not struck the base, it’s likely both runs could have crossed the plate. Giambi then narrowly missed a three-run homer, his ball down the rightfield line curving foul by a few feet. Big G eventually flew out to weak-armed Johnny Damon in short center, not deep enough to score Sori. In retrospect, the Yanks might as well have chanced things; Damon’s throw to Mirabelli was well up the line, and it’s possible Sori might have passed him by then. Bernie Williams kept the inning alive with a walk, but Jorge Posada struck out with the bases loaded.

Wakefield left in the seventh after issuing a leadoff walk to Giambi. Failing to get the 3-2 call, he glared in frustration at either home plate ump Derryl Cousins or manager Grady Little. But the classy knuckleballer apologized profusely during the postgame press conference for losing control of his emotions at a critical time, lending an air of civility to a series which had otherwised lacked it. A very classy gesture.

Afte Wakefield was gone, the Yanks added a run in the ninth on a one-out pinch-homer by Ruben Sierra to cut the lead to 3-2. But it stayed that way as Scott Williamson struck out the other three Yanks, bringing their total to 12 on the night.

All in all, it was another dismal showing by the Yankee offense, as Giambi, Posada, Matsui, Johnson, and Boone were a combined 0-for-18 with one walk. The Yanks are hitting only .192 with a .589 OPS this series and have scored just 3.5 runs per game. Sori is a meager 1-for-15 with 6 Ks, Boone is 0-for-9 and looks completely lost, and Giambi’s only 2-for13, both singles. The Yanks aren’t walking much either, only 11 walks in 125 ABs, compared to 29 Ks.

With Wakefield having baffled them twice, the seed of having the knuckler start again has been planted. Given the lack of wear a knuckleballer shows compared to a normal starter, the option has to be tempting for Grady Little, especially with Fragile Diva Martinez showing signs of physical and mental breakdown. The Yanks have to be shuddering at the thought, as they’ve gotten only seven hits and three runs in 13 innings off of the knuckler.

With a day game looming in a couple of hours (David Wells and Derek Lowe), I’ll save the rest of what I have to say for the next writeup.

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Alex Belth of Bronx Banter has a worthwhile piece examining some of the bloggers’ responses to Game Three. He notes that with their antics on Saturday, the Sox shed some of their undedog appeal, but he also turns the mirror on himself:

…I allow my narcissism, my own sense of grandiosity, to get in the way of my enjoyment of the game. Meaning that if the Yankees win, I feel good, validated, or like a winner, and if they lose, I feel like a loser. The world is black-and-white, and I’m either a somebody or a nobody. As if I have anything to do with how they do. I know this is a simplification, but it’s something that is very real for me.

For instance, how many times do fans believe that if they wear their lucky hat, or sit in a certain position on the couch, it will actually effect the outcome of a game? All the time. Superstitions are the birthright of every sports fan—we all know how superstitious the players are, right? All we want to do is identify with them. But even though our little routines are innocent enough, that doesn’t mask the fact that they dellude us into thinking we can actually have an impact on a game. Perhaps it’s just a way for us to feel closer to the action, but it also skews our sense of reality too.

It’s this personalization which is unhealthy, and I think that is at the core of what bothers Edward [Bambino’s Curse‘s Cossette] so much. Sure, it doesn’t help that his team displayed qualities that he rejected, but I think his dependency on the team’s fate to feel good about himself is what is wearing him down.

I’m projecting, of course. What I should say is that I’m allowing my dependency on the Yankees’ fate to wear me down.

I can identify with that on some level… hell, those are my cap superstitions Alex is talking about. But while I’m capable of a good mini-tantrum during or after these ballgames, I apparently have an easier time of letting go than he does, though as he points out, writing in a blog like this is a big part of that.

Look, I know as a Yank fan I’ve been lucky to have such a great team playing in front of me for the past several years, to the point where I expect nothing less than a run at a championship. But if this team falls short (as I’ve been predicting for most of this season, only to glimpse the promised land on Saturday), you know what? I’ll probably spend a day or two cursing a blue streak, then I’ll go right back to watching whoever’s still playing, climb on some other bandwagon as I take joy in the release of the pressure, and then look forward to all of the hot-stove banter on what my team can do to get back to their rightful spot at the top of the heap next season. The sun will still come up, my friends will still be there, and life will continue.