Posnanski: The Great Wedge …

Often called the connoisseur’s serving spoon of choice, the Wedge offers delivery at a divine incline for deeper penetration...into the playoffs.

Wedge knows himself, and I have immense respect for that. Funny, I criticized him here on this blog for going with Byrd, and I was instant-message-ripping him when Borowski came into the game, but all along I KNEW Wedge was going to do those things, because that’s what he does. He trusts his guys. He trusts Byrd to get outs at Yankee Stadium when the statistics say no. He trusts Borowski to finish things off with his ballsy pitching and frightening lack of stuff. It’s a gift.

Perfect example: Monday night, Wedge put all his faith in Paul Byrd, and Byrdy clawed and bluffed and survived for five good innings (I applaud Paul — good for him — though I will say the television announcers made him sound like he was Christy Matthewson meets Carl Hubbell, and that might have been a little bit of overkill. At one point, I could have sworn that Tony Gwynn said, “He’s a lot like John Smoltz.” I suppose this is true if Gwynn meant that they are both right-handed. And carbon-based life forms).