Theo Epstein and the Sox brass lured Dice-K and Hideki Okajima from Japan last year. They transformed the Boston Red Sox into a global enterprise. Then they won a second title for the first time in a century. As much as Hank Steinbrenner would like to deny it, Red Sox Nation is now multinational, multilingual, and carrying the torch into the next era of the sport of baseball.
Assuming an ambassadorial role for MLB won’t come without consequences, however.
By the time the Red Sox finally return to Fenway–via the west coast and Toronto–on April 8, the entire organization is going to be gassed. Players have been forced to alter their diets (”lots of sushi” says a reinvigorated Manny Ramirez), sleep habits, and general routines.
Terry Francona and his staff have basically assumed responsibilities of foreign dignitaries in addition to their daily duties as managers and coaches. And then there’s the simple fact of being on the road for an extended period of time to kick off the season. It’s not easy.
The defending champs will be buoyed by the sustained reception they receive upon their return home, but it’s just not reasonable to expect them to come flying out of the gates in April like their calling card would indicate.
They will win the AL East, because they are better than the Yankees, but if anyone thinks they’re going wire to wire, think again. It will take time to shake off the Tokyo-jet lag, and come October, after the Sox have played the most grueling 162 games imaginable, in addition to another run through the American League playoffs, it will all catch up.
The Sox won’t repeat as champions, but they will come damn close.
The Pick
New York Mets (98-64/NL East Champions) I thought that with a healthy Pedro Martinez in 2008, the Mets would be good enough to get back to where they were last year: on the brink of the NL East title and home-field throughout the playoffs.
Frankly, though, I wasn’t convinced that even Pedro’s elephant-sized ego would be sufficient enough to pull the team out of the total malaise it was stuck in since early September.
Then Omar Minaya saved the day, the season, and quite possibly the franchise, by working a deal for Johan Santana. So in comes the best pitcher of today, joining the best hurler of yesterday.
For those who have little faith in Pedro, chew on this: when the walls were crashing down around the Mets last September, Pedro, with all 88 miles per hour of his fastball, started five games, went 3-1 with a 2.57 ERA, and struck out 32 in 28 innings.
After the collapse was complete, with the Mets dreadfully looking ahead to 2008, Pedro was the beacon of light at the end of a long and otherwise pitch black tunnel. Trust me, the guy was prepared to lift that big blue toilet bowl also known as Shea Stadium–along with his team and what was left of its fan base–onto his modest shoulders, and start chugging.
Petey was ready to assume the entire burden of (another) hopeless franchise. And you know something? I would have bought in.
I believe he could have done it — until his right arm detached itself from the rest of his body, that is. Well now he won’t have to take that risk. The Mets, and their fans, have been reborn.
Johan has, in a word, simplified things. Willie Randolph’s boys will be the undisputed best in the league, Johan will win the NL Cy Young, Pedro will prove all the haters wrong, and the New York Mets will become your 2008 world champions.
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