If there is one thing that makes Boston Red Sox fans calm about the 2007 World Series, it's Josh Beckett.

How can we not be after watching him tear through the Angels and Indians to the tune of three earned runs and 26 strikeouts in 23 innings this postseason? From Maine to New Mexico, Red Sox fans have to come rely on Beckett postseason starts as a joy to behold, and there won't be any apologizing for that, Jack.

Listen, I'm fully aware the big fella with the funny soul patch can be a surly fellow. I've said as much throughout the season, poking fun at Beckett in blog entries like this, this and this. I mean, seriously, the dude drinks with Ja-Rule? Comedy gold.

Thing is, though, I'm not apologizing for it. I don't much care if Beckett and Old Man Lofton got into a catfight during the Indians series, or if Beckett swears on national television. Not when he's letting it all hang out, terminating Indians and Angels with extreme prejudice.

Irrational? Absolutely. And that's the beauty of it. So long as he's spinning gems, Beckett is our Commander, and we are his brigade. It is what it is, man.

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