Bleacher Report - Articles by FenWest

Red Sox Vets Sticking Around: Tim Wakefield, Jason Varitek Will Return for 2010

FenWest — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 03:02:50 -0500

So it looks like a couple of long, long-time teammates will be teammates at least a little longer still.

The Red Sox didn't just pick up Tim Wakefield's option for 2010, (which would have been for $4 million), they turned it into a two year deal , giving him a first year at $3.5 and a second at $1.5 mil, plus incentives. We needn't bid adieu to Boston's elder statesman for a while yet.

This is a nice setup all around: a great deal for the Sox, particularly when we remember that before heading to the DL, Wake's 2009 season was the strongest he'd had in years. (Anyone else remember the near no-hitter that put the brakes on a nasty, early season losing streak?)

2009 marked Wake's first time selected as an All-Star, an honor he'd more than earned, many times over. And, for Wake, this means a little extra stability on the road ahead, with at least two more years guaranteed with the team he's been a part of since 1995.

And the other longest-standing veteran on the roster?

This one isn't quite official, as of this writing, but NESN reports that yes, Jason Varitek will be back as well.

There was no surprise at all when the team turned down their $5 million dollar option on the Captain: the move was a no-brainer, largely because the Captain has an option of his own for $3 million, and accepting that one is pretty much a no-brainer too.

Yet there was always a chance Tek would prefer more playing time elsewhere over a reduced role with Boston. But word is, yes, Tek is using his option and sticking around. The deal is expected to be made official some time tomorrow.

Again, this a win for both sides. Boston gets a much needed backup for Victor Martinez (definitively not an everyday catcher), and it comes in the form of a player who goes far, far beyond what 'backup' usually implies.

They get to hang on to the mind that knows their pitching staff as well as anyone alive, and last year kept up a leadership role even when wear and tear had pushed him to the bench.

And Varitek? He gets to keep on playing baseball, with his team. (At a good salary too, but I suspect that's almost secondary. With Tek, the key point was always playing baseball.)

That's two icons, right there, who will still be a part of the picture in the coming year. Two guys who have been a part of the team longer than anyone else on Boston's roster, who have played together longer than almost any other pair of teammates in the sport. Who still have a lot to offer.

And two guys who, as far as this writer is concerned, should absolutely see their numbers someday posted high over Fenway Park's right field.

Now on with the rest of the Hot Stove!

Yankees Win, But National Public Radio Strikes Back

FenWest — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 00:00:51 -0500

After a World Series like this last one, we Red Sox fans take a lot of consoling. It's never been fun watching one's sworn enemies' jubilation.

Where, oh where, can a Boston loyalist turn for some trace of comfort?

Try National Public Radio.

I've just been listening to the latest podcast from Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, the NPR weekly news quiz. It's always a fun listen, finding the humor in current events, and makes a great cure for the typical, and depressing tone of ordinary newscasts.

Also, those of you who listen will know that the show's host, Peter Sagal, makes no secret of his Sox fan identity. He tends to report on anti-Yankees news tidbits with special relish.

This week, though, the World Series was news, and there was no ignoring it. There could be no careful failure to mention how things ended for the Major Leagues, not on a show about news (more or less)...

The solution?

What follows is my transcript of the conversation that made this week's edition of Wait Wait one of my all time favorites. Speaking here are host Peter Sagal, judge/scorekeeper Carl Kassel, panelist Mo Rocca, and the caller. Read, and enjoy, fellow Sox fans.

Peter Sagal: All right, Lauren, here is your last quote.

Carl Kassel: "Call us anything you want, but you also have to call us world champions."

Peter Sagal: Now that was a man named Brian Cashman. He was laughing off criticism of the team he runs. What is the team?

Caller: That would be the New York Yankees.

Peter Sagal: It would be the New York Yankees . The Yankees won their...

[Pause for extensive booing for a clearly intelligent Pasadena crowd, and from panelist Mo Rocca, who also knows what he's talking about.]

Peter Sagal: The Yankees won their 27th World Series, but that news pales next to the fact that the team's general manager just gave us permission to call them anything we want. So. We worked on this. How about...

Carl Kassel: "A Group of Wildly Overpaid Egotistical Mercenaries Whose Pinstripes Are Actually Artfully Lined-up Steroid Needles Sewn into Their Uniforms."

[Additional pause, as the crowd emphatically approves.]

Peter Sagal: That's one!

Mo Rocca: Sounds very practical.

Peter Sagal: Don't you think? Or...

Carl Kassel: "Those Bastards."

[Here, more hearty approval. Just slightly later in the show... ]

Peter Sagal: Now the World Series was seen as a redemption for Alex Rodriguez. He is the highest paid athlete in the history of U.S. sports, and he historically has choked on the Big Stage. Not this time. But, because of the attention on him this last week, or so, we have learned some great things about him. For example, an ex-girlfriend told US Weekly that he has not one, but two, paintings of himself as a centaur in his bedroom. This is true—she says this. Why do you need two paintings of yourself as a centaur? Well, because in one of them, he is the horse's front...

Well played, Mr. Sagal. Well played.

Nah, we didn't get a trophy this year. We didn't get a reprieve from a new infusion of oppressive and cloying Yankee fan cockiness. But at least we got this.

Yeah, it was a lousy week for us Sox fans, in the baseball world. But public radio just gave us a big home run.

Red Sox Fans Say: "Onward and Upward, Phils!"

FenWest — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 15:00:12 -0400

Last year, the season ended tragically, but I found solace in my brief tenure as a Phillies fan.

This year, I'm taking it to a new level.

The Phillies helped me through a difficult recovery period in 2008; that world-shattering shock that followed Game Seven of the ALCS left me grieving, but the Philadelphia Phillies took this scarred and bitter fan and gave her a new reason to cheer. For that I owe them thanks.

For that, I wished them well all this season too, and when my beloved Sox were knocked out of the playoffs even faster this time around via three quick kicks to the head, I once again looked to Pennsylvania to get me through the remains of October.

I was rooting for them anyway.

But now? Now it's personal.

The Phillies are our last, best hope for a reprieve from Yankee gloating.

Mind you, I fully expect New Yorkers to carry on gloating anyway, regardless of who takes the rings. I fully expect to both loathe and love the sound of it: loathe it, because they really did take the AL title this time, and love it because any obnoxious gloating wafting over from the Big Apple area will give me one more merry reason to loathe them more.

But a World Series title?

When those same obnoxious fans start shouting about 26 World Series wins every chance they get, the pleasantest of all comebacks has been, "Right. And how many would that be from this millennium?"

Dear Philadelphia, don't let them take that comfort from us! BE that first team of the decade to take the title back-to-back years. You may be wearing pinstripes, but they're red pinstripes.

This series, as always, I'm rooting for the red.

To quote once more a banner I saw in Bolivia: "Yankees Go Home!"

Look Homeward, Red Sox: The View From Two Games Back

FenWest — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 02:12:45 -0400

I'm still an optimist, you know.

True, for the second night running the Red Sox were held to just four hits. This time they did at least manage to get a run across. Ellsbury even had a two-hit game, the only man on the roster to pull that feat so far this series.

True, Beckett, like Lester, was good tonight, and yet not quite good enough for a win. But both of them kept us in the game.

True, we got into this series riding five straight losses, and after good clobberings by both New York and Toronto, only gained some semblance of composure while playing those mighty, mighty foes, the Cleveland Indians...But we ended strong(ish), yes? And once you've made October, it's a fresh start. The past is the past.

In the more recent past: two quick losses in Anaheim.

Sunday, this all rides on Buchholz. The must-win game, the Red Sox post-season lifeline, is on the pitcher who gave up 11 runs over his last two starts, seven innings total.

Also, it rests on the pitcher who has pitched some good strong starts in the second half of '09, who has a no-hitter on his resume a while back, and who, as a post season player, is an utterly unknown entity.

So, will the Red Sox live to see game four?

It all comes down to this: Which version of Clay Buchholz will turn up at Fenway Park for game three?

And, to this: Will Boston's awe-inspiring offensive power, which was apparently off enjoying a quick vacation at Disneyland while these first two games were going on, reappear when we're back on home turf? Or will it go out for chowder, instead?

It will be a nervous, nervous weekend from here on out.

But Boston ain't throwin' in the towel...

Over the last few years Boston has turned comebacks into something of an art from. 2004 (down 3-0), 2007 (down 3-1)...Even 2008 saw the Olde Town Team come back from the edge with a late rally of awe-inspiring proportions, and miss the World Series by just a hair's breadth. It's just the way we do things around here.

In elimination games over the last seven years, this team is 16-3.

From Terry Francona: "I'd rather not be down 0-2, because the team we're playing is really good. If you put yourself in a position where you make a mistake, it can really cost you. But until they tell us to go home, we'll take our team and keep going."

And so they will.

Look homeward, Red Sox. Fenway is the place you've got to shine.

http://eastbaydirtdog.blogspot.com/

The Ghost of Buchholz Past?

FenWest — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:01:24 -0400

First inning: Valbuena homers for Cleveland on the third pitch of the game, but the next three batters are knocked out in quick succession. Boston brings around three runs of its own for an early lead. Buchholz looks good.

Second Inning: A ground out, a fly out, and a strike out, and Cleveland is out of the way again. Gonzalez homers, a solo shot, and it’s 4-1, Boston. Buchholz looks good.

Third Inning: A walk, a single, a strikeout, another single, another walk, another single, a strikeout, a double...And finally another strikeout. Cleveland takes a 6-4 lead. Bottom of the inning, Boston goes down in order. Buchholz...Looks like this is not going to be his day, after all.

Clay Buchholz left the game after this, so we don’t really know what would have come next. Would he have recovered? When you’re giving up six runs to the Indians in three innings, does it matter if you would have recovered?

From the very early days of Buchholz’s Major League career, we’ve always had two of him on the roster.

One Buchholz was the guy we got at the very start, the light’s out young gun who threw a no-hitter in his second ever Major League start. We remember that Buchholz fondly.

The other Buchholz was the guy who turned up in most of 2008. That guy had a great arm, great stuff to offer, and a truly epic case of nerves that would kick in within the first few innings as surely as the Monster is green.

In 2009, a lot of the season had gone by before Buchholz was back in the big leagues. When he did return, the refurbished starter was looking good. Brushed up, spic-and-span, and ready to get some outs, which he did with enthusiasm. Yeah, there were those seven runs to New York back at the start of August, and seven more allowed to the White Sox at the end of that month—four innings, and 4.2, respectively—but everyone has an off day now and then. Mere blips, easily forgotten.

And then, there came these last two starts: Seven earned runs to Toronto, in five innings. Six earned runs to Cleveland, in three. Five of those runs today came in the third, in a truly familiar return of the old big inning dilemma.

Amidst his successes, Buchholz had gone so far as to hint in interviews that he blamed his catcher for past failures, which seemed an odd kick at the guy who caught and called his no-hitter. But now it's Martinez behind the plate for every one of his starts, and Buchholz has been shaking him off too with the same results.

Which is the Buchholz the Red Sox will get in October?

This wasn’t exactly a high stakes scenario. By the end of the game, it was mostly the scrubs on the field: Kottaras was even playing third instead of catcher, which is a dead giveaway. But for Buchholz, this was a last start before the playoffs, and his final chance to show off what he’s got, to earn his place, and against a far from unbeatable foe. And still he left the game having squandered a three run lead, and in line for another loss.

Today, the Sox won anyway. Drew homered twice, Pedroia and Gonzalez each belted one out, Papi turned in a very nice two run single...And of course Jed Lowrie’s grand slam didn’t hurt matters any. There was more than enough offense to comfortably finish the sweep. But what of the starting pitcher’s meltdown that so easily could have sent it the other way?

Which guy will turn up in October? Was this last game of the regular season just another little blip, a Ghost of Buchholz Past, pulling off one last quick haunting before season’s end? Or was this the preview of Buchholz Yet to Come? Is the old, 2008 Buchholz—the kid with a great arm if only he could get his head straight—back with us?

There are two versions of Buchholz on this team.

Will the real Clay Buchholz please stand up?

Yankees Go Home: Notes from a Boston Red Sox Fan Abroad

FenWest — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 21:12:34 -0400

It’s mid-July. I stand in a field, just beside the eucalyptus-lined road, and stare up at a night sky more star-filled than I could ever see in the states. A little way in the distance, the surface of Lake Titicaca is shining with starlight, and the only signs of electricity I can see are pin-points across the water in Peru. Here on the Bolivia side, the power has been knocked out by the snowstorm over the weekend, and won’t be back up for four days.

I’m standing in a field in Bolivia, remote and cold, wrapped in alpaca wool and Gore-Tex….

And I am listening to a Red Sox Game.

--------------------

I’m an archaeologist who studies the Andean past, and I love all the travel that goes with my work. Beautiful places, fascinating dig sites, and, at 14,000 feet, there are none of those parasites and uber-venomous critters that get my colleagues in jungle areas. But there are downsides, too, and this one is high up on the list: I travel in the summer, and no one watches baseball in Bolivia.

Out in the campo—the Bolivian countryside—there’s no NESN or WEEI. There’s no Gameday page, because there’s no Internet, and there is certainly no MLB Network.

There would be no box scores in the paper even if you could get a current paper out where I was staying, but that hardly matters, ‘cause you can’t. And yet I did listen to the Sox this past summer, and I stayed on top of the Olde Town Team's every move: I bought a cheap cell phone with enough signal to pick up incoming calls from the states, and made good use of it.

My dad was my Joe Castiglione.

Yeah, Dad did my play-by-play throughout this summer’s dig, and my mom even learned to read a box score, just so she could help out too from time to time. Isn’t family a wonderful thing? Especially when they're Sox fans. I’d have missed a full third of the season but for them.

(My last day in Bolivia, heading for the airport, I managed to fall and shatter a bone in my left hand, making typing altogether awkward until just lately, and so I’ve missed almost two months more that I could have been writing about my Sox since I’ve been back. But never mind that: you don’t need ten fingers to watch a game, and I never went more than a day or two without hearing all about them, all summer long.)

When Ortiz returned to his Super Papi persona, I knew about it.

When the Sox got their lead up to five games over New York, I knew. (When they spiraled down to seven games back, I knew that too, but kind of wished I didn’t.)

I knew about Smoltz’s struggles, and Lugo’s release, and I felt bad for Lugo even though I knew it had to happen.

I knew when Tek hurt his shoulder last June, and heard the all-too-depressing details as injury, and general wear and tear, threw his formerly solid season into sharp decline.

I knew when the team landed V-Mart for an offensive boost, and when Wake went on the DL, and when Papi hit a patch of public scandal.

I heard it all. And I got to talk stats all through the season, while the Andean sun bleached my Boston hat to a light dirty blue.

Yet, there is only one thing that no help from home could set right: there was nothing they could do about the Yankees hats.

I’ve heard it complained that bandwagon Boston fans have messed up what it means to love the Bo Sox, that these days the red “B” is turning up coast to coast on heads that haven’t "won the right" through years of heartbreak, fans that don’t know how to suffer. Over-popularity is a real problem from some purists’ points of view.

It’s true that I see those hanging socks logos out here in Berkeley and San Francisco, far more than you might expect. But it seems there’s a limit to Red Sox Nation, and I’ve found it.

I first landed in Lima, Peru, and in Lima I saw Yankees hats.

I took buses from Lima to Jauja, and in Jauja I saw Yankees hats.

I rode more than 30 hours from Peru to Bolivia, and as I got off the bus in La Paz, I saw people in Yankees hats.

Yankees hats! I rode four hours out into the countryside, and there in remote Aymara villages, there I saw Yankees hats.

It’s true, I saw a couple of hats for the Dodgers as well, and a few for the White Sox, oddly enough. Once, I'd swear I even saw a Pirates hat, though surely that one was imagined.

But the pernicious “NY”?

Friends, there is no escaping. Like every good Evil Empire, the Yankees have sought full scale global domination, and in the backwaters of rural Bolivia, it appeared they have nearly made it.

Still, hope comes from this: that for all those Yankees hats, I’d swear not one in 20 wearing them had ever seen a Yankees game—nor any other Major League game, I’d give good odds. Soccer is the sport down there, and always will be. I wore my Red Sox hat constantly—my own tiny candle in the darkness—and was asked once if the “B” stood for “Berkeley.” Those New York hats were worn much more for style than for any nod to this year’s AL East division champs.

There was one more little fact in which I found some comfort. Driving through more urban areas in Bolivia, where deep running sentiments tend to find their way onto walls and highway medians, there were numerous times I saw this blessed phrase, painted in enormous white letters:

“Yankees Go Home!”

And I saw it, and smiled, and tipped my Boston cap, and kept on driving.

Papi Lives! Bring on the Second Half

FenWest — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 12:00:43 -0400

I started writing this one about two weeks ago, shortly after home run number four.

Somewhere in my head, a little voice cried out, “After so long a slump, it's too soon! Don't write that Big Papi is back to stay. Don't jinx him...”

And I didn't publish. But I did write, because the fact was, Papi was back. Too soon to write it? I didn't care.

But now as June is drawing to a close, the season half over, the All-Star break days away, it seems even the hardcore skeptics are beginning to come around.

David “Big Papi” Ortiz has eight homers now, seven more than when the month began. His average for June is .310, his slugging at .648, and with hits in seven of his last eight games, he isn't cooling.

For June, Ortiz has literally doubled his average and slugging of the month before, that more than dismal .146, .242 SLG. He is making up for lost time – and lost hits – in a big way.

And yet, even now, there are some who will say it's too soon. Some will say, this is a last hurrah from a fading star, and falling stars don't stay in the sky much longer...

Nonsense.

Not long before the Large Father began to come around, Mike Lowell was asked about the feeling of such an epic slump, and what goes through a player's head.

Lowell, of course, knows the feeling first-hand from his 2005 run with the Marlins, when his performance dropped off so badly as to land him and his salary a ticket north as part of the Beckett trade.

What he said was no surprise: As a slump draws out, you start trying too hard, working against yourself. You might get a few hits, but you can't help still seeing that low average by your name, and you slip right back into it.

And so a slump gets longer, and longer...

But Mike Lowell wasn't finished. Not even close. For the MVP of Boston's '07 World Series victory, it took the clean slate of post-season play, and later the full fresh start of a new team to put his lost season behind him. But he did, and he didn't look back.

For Papi?

For him, we may never know what did the trick. It's the land of mind games, always mysterious territory.

Maybe those eye drops really did help after all?

What we do know is that the man with the million dollar smile is suddenly looking more like the multi-million dollar bat he's always been.

Papi is back to clutch hits. He's back to hitting for power. He's scoring runs. He just recently marked his 1000^th RBI, and by the look of things, there are many more to come.

Kudos to the fans who stood behind him, who kept on cheering even when the K's were mounting higher. Kudos to the man himself for fighting, for finding his swing, for coming back and being Superman once more.

Ladies and Gentlemen of Red Sox Nation, we had one monumental worry in the first half of the season; just one big aching quandary hanging over the team. It's been set right.

Bring on the second half!

What's Up with Papelbon? The Entirely (Un)True Story of the '09 Sox

FenWest — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 13:40:12 -0400

A third of the season is past, and the Boston Red Sox are still first in the AL East. This despite their impenetrable, unshakable pitching staff started the year looking like the Washington Nationals, instead of the Red Sox.

This despite the fact that their key slugger, who carried the team to two world championships, was in the slump of all slumps, batting barely half his weight in May.

This despite the lights-out closer has turned each of his innings into long epic battles, and though injuries and their aftermath left the team reliant on a backup backup shortstop.

The '09 Sox have been perplexing. For every gaping hole, there's been some unexpected turn to fill it in. And somehow, in some mysterious way, it has all worked...

But what has really been going on?

This is the true* story...

(* read: completely made up)

..................

It happened during spring training, 2009. A quiet evening after an uneventful day of drills. Players mill about in the locker room, chatting quietly, changing, applying ice packs. Someone turns on a radio. And, standing by his locker, Jonathan Papelbon hears his cell phone ring, and takes an international call from Daisuke Matsuzaka:

Dice-K: Hey, Papelbon. I've been wanting to talk to you.

Paps: Dice-K! Sure, man. How's Japan treating you? And hey, uh... how come you're not using that interpreter guy?

Dice-K: He's vacationing in Maui while I'm back home. That's all just for show anyway. Look, I want to talk to you about your pitching.

Paps: It's awesome, isn't it? Jonathan Papelbon is the MAN! I ROCK!!

Dice-K: Yeah, yeah. It's great. But look, you only ever get to pitch in these tiny, one-inning stints, sometimes an out or two more. You get up there and knock the batters down so fast, no one gets to enjoy it.

Paps: But...I'm supposed to get outs.

Dice-K: Of course, but why rush it? You should be savoring your time up there. Cherish it. Let it linger. Enjoy the spotlight.

You can throw three balls every batter without doing any damage, so why waste that? Let them foul off a few, too, before you finish them. And there's nothing wrong with walking the bases loaded with no outs now and then, just to add a little drama. Crowds appreciate that.

Paps: They do?

Dice-K: Absolutely. These fans have to go nearly half the year without any baseball at all, and when the season finally starts again, we owe it to them to make the games as long as possible.

Usually I'd take care of this myself, giving the fans that extra suspense they crave, but I've got kind of a hunch that when the WBC ends, I may not be, uh... Never mind. But you'll give it a try? At least while I'm gone?

Paps: Sure, but.... uh, Dice-K? If I suddenly start loading the bases with no outs and taking 35 pitches to get through any inning, won't people start to say I'm not looking as sharp, and losing my...

Dice-K: I no understand. No speak good English. Gotta go, man. Best of luck. You rock.

Paps: I ROCK!!

Papelbon hangs up his phone, and stands quietly for a moment, considering Matsuzaka's advice. Then he pumps his fist. This just might work.

. . .

Five minutes later, David Ortiz approaches the bench where Jason Varitek is packing up the last of his gear.

Big Papi: Hey, Tek.

Tek: Hey Papi, how's it going, man?

Big Papi: Good, man. Pretty good. Look, Tek, I need a favor.

Tek: Sure, Papi. What do you need?

Big Papi: Well, see, I've been thinking of taking a little time off from the whole “super hero” thing. It gets stressful, you know? Year in, year out, nothing but home runs and extra bases and carrying the team on my back all the time...I need a break. But I don't want to leave the team in trouble.

So, yeah, man, you think you could pick up a little of that extra home run hitting for me?

Tek: Ah, man...that's a lot to cover. I mean, I want to help, but you know I've got the pitching staff to take care of too, and now this whole 'mentor' gig with a new backup coming in...

Big Papi: Just short term, I promise. Two months, yeah? April, May, and then I'll pick up my end again first thing, start of June. It's for the team, man.

Tek: Ok, ok. You got me. For the good of the team...

Big Papi: Thanks, Tek. I owe you one. Hey, just an extra five, six homers should do it—nothing over the top. But you know, however you want to play it.

Tek: Ok, man. I'll see what I can do for you. But you promise me you'll be Superman again by the All-Star break, right?

Big Papi: You got it.

. . .

And as the players finish packing up and head out for the afternoon, Tim Wakefield, Jon Lester, and Josh Beckett walk together toward the parking lot.

Wake: So, you two aces ready to make another Cy Young run this year?

Lester: Actually, Wake, Josh and I were just talking about that.

Beckett: Right. How about you taking a turn? Being the @^&$#!#% ace, I mean?

Wake: What are you talking about?

Beckett: I $%^#&%!& mean it, man. You should take a turn.

Lester: You've been here longer than any of us, right? I mean, I did the 'Ace' thing most of last year, and Beckett here's been doing it pretty much since he got to Boston.

Beckett:@#$^%&!% right, I have. And it's a $%!^&*# long season. Plenty of @!#$%#& starts to go around.

Wake: Josh, I'm not the press, or an umpire...

Beckett: What? Oh, sorry. But like I was saying, there are plenty of starts to go around. You start the season as ace, and if you get tired of it, Jon or I can take over later on.

Lester: Right. I'm a bit of a slow starter anyway, right? And you know Dice is gonna' be exhausted after that WBC. So it would be a big help.

Wake: Wow... Sounds fun, to tell the truth. But 'tell you what, I'll just do April, while Johnny here is warming up. You two carry things from there.

Lester: You sure about that? Just April? I was thinking through May at least.

Wake: Nah, April is plenty, maybe a start or two more. Thanks, guys. I look forward to it.

Beckett: No #$%^%#!& problem, man. Enjoy.

Tetchy Tichenor Kicked Out Four and a Good Time Was Had by All

FenWest — Sat, 30 May 2009 02:37:10 -0400

An umpire’s job is a stressful one. If he does his job properly, no one remembers him. If he screws things up royally, it’s only then that his name makes the headlines.

Boston and Minnesota fans won’t forget young umpire Todd Tichenor’s name soon.

Thursday’s game would have been royally entertaining in any case, even without the seventh-inning dramatics. Swarzak and Beckett dueled it out, pounding in strikes and knocking down batters on both sides, inning after inning.

Josh Beckett allowed only three hits over seven innings, striking out eight. It would seem Vintage Beckett is truly back on Boston’s table.

Meanwhile, Red Sox offense came almost exclusively from a power display by Jason Varitek, whose return to form continues to startle. Varitek homered in consecutive at bats, launching the second high into the upper decks for his 10th longball of the season.

Who would have believed six months ago that, at the close of May, Tek would have as many home runs as Youkilis, Pedroia, Ortiz, and Ellsbury combined?

But it was the seventh inning that made this game truly memorable. Catchers and managers got yanked like bad molars at a dentist’s convention.

Mike Redmond, catching for the Twins, had never been ejected in his long career. He protested a call at home, insisting he’d tagged Jeff Bailey before Bailey touched the plate. Or at least, that’s what he tried to say. He got about three words in before Todd Tichenor tossed him.

Twins manager Ron Gardenhire asked what was up, and got the same treatment for his trouble.

Half an inning later, it was Boston’s turn to watch the crowds thin in their dugout: Beckett didn’t like a called ball, and got loud about it in what he later called, “baseball terms.” Varitek jumped up to grab Tichenor’s focus and keep Beckett in the game.

The ploy worked, but it only took a few seconds more for Tek to join the mass exodus. Terry Francona moved in fast to protect Tek, but not fast enough.

Tichenor finished things nice and symmetrical: Tito, too, got the boot.

Four men. One inning. No brawling, no contact, and not much even in the strong language department, barring what was probably yelled after the ejections.

Very impressive, no?

Crew chief Jerry Layne stayed moderate when asked about the drama. Tichenor did his job, Layne told us. And Francona and Gardenhire did their jobs, protecting their players. And Varitek “took one for the team,” doing his job, protecting his pitcher. Everyone did his job.

No one did anything wrong. It’s just that four people got ejected in rapid succession…

Presumably, it’s as proper for Layne to stand by his crew as for the players to stand by their teammates. Bully for Layne.

For the rest of us? We get to ask loudly just what was up:

- Are ejections like peanuts to Tichenor, and he couldn’t stop at one?

- Did Tichenor listen all too well when his mother told him, “when in doubt, throw it out,” and decided that should work for baseball too?

- Did he forget to stretch before the game, and found the kicking-people-out arm wave wonderfully therapeutic?

Odds are, of course, it was just insecurity. He’s young. He’s a rookie at the job. He was quick to try to prove he had control, because he didn’t.

An umpire with matters in hand would have told Redmond, “He’s safe. That’s it,” and would be done with it. He’d have told Tek, “Ok, you’ve done your duty. Now cool it and get back in your squat,” and he’d have moved on.

But Tichenor? Nah. He was on a roll.

The actual dialog, so far as it can be reconstructed:

[Top of the seventh: Baily is called safe at home by Tichenor]

Redmond: I got his arm!

Tichenor: Yeer OUTahere.

[Enter Gardenhire, Stage Left]

Gardenhire: What did you just toss my catcher for?

Tichenor: Yeer OUTahere.

Gardenhire: [!@#!%^&*!!, etc.]

[Bottom of the seventh: in reference to a called ball, Beckett yells in some choice “baseball terms.” Varitek intervenes.]

Varitek: [To himself]: Nothing else for it. [To Tichenor]: That ball caught the outside…

Tichenor: Yeeer OUTahere.

[Enter Francona, Stage Right]

Francona: Hey, don’t…

Tichenor: Yeer OUTahere.

[Francona responds via assorted choice baseball terms.]

No, we didn’t get a brawl to entertain us in Thursday’s game, but if there’s a next-best-thing, it just might be this new art of anti-brawl: guys getting ejected one after another for not, in fact, doing anything. There’s real entertainment to be had there, too, and Todd Tichenor gave us that gift two times over.

Way to go, Todd: It was a show to remember.

We thank you.

Mets 5, Red Sox 3: It's Only Technically a Loss

FenWest — Sat, 23 May 2009 13:28:15 -0400

Some might call last night’s game a loss. The box scores, for one, and the standings.

But a few months from now, looking back, it just might feel like a win.

Daisuke Matsuzaka didn’t come away with a W for his tally. The offense was pitifully silent backing him up, and the team’s defensive errors (particularly the ones that weren’t scored that way) did him no favors. But Dice-K’s return was a solid one. 50 of 80 pitches were for strikes, and that count of 80 was the lowest pitch count through five innings that Dice-K has ever thrown in the Majors.

Eventually, Matsuzaka let up four runs over five. Yet the real damage could have been stopped short (so to speak) if Lugo had managed to turn a double play. Had that inning ended there, the three Sox runs would have tied the game instead of losing it by a margin.

Had the inning ended there, the Sox might have come away with a win in spite of the fact that Ortiz, Youkilis, Bay, and Lugo were all 0-for the night, and that other than Varitek (whose RBI single was ruled a hit after the game ended), the whole team went hitless with runners in scoring position.

In point of fact, Varitek’s at-bats made up nearly the whole of Boston’s offense last night, accounting for both Boston RBIs and an un-earned third run; his 2nd inning homer was his eighth of the season, tying him for first among Major League catchers.

Pedroia came away with two hits as well, and Lowell hit a key double… and that was it. Yet the Sox could have won. They almost did.

All this could be seen from the down side, of course: ‘sloppy play blows another game, as pitching, defense and offense all fall short.’ But that’s only one side of the coin.

Last night, they were one missed double-play from a possible win even though the biggest bats on the team were nearly silent. Even though they were facing one of the top pitchers in the game. And even though their starting pitcher was just back from the DL, still carrying a double-digit ERA.

Matsuzaka showed control and precision well beyond his own usual standards. He kept his pitch count low. He threw first-pitch strikes. Did he win? No. But his pitching last night said he’s back.

Daniel Bard pitched a clean 9^th, which can only be a good sign for the team. While the biggest bats were having a rare off-night, offense came from unexpected quarters: Varitek hit every ball hard, and even his one out came off a drive caught against the wall. That too is a great turn for Boston.

It was a loss. But a loss like that one promises wins ahead.

I’ll take it.

Big Papi, Little Faith? Ortiz Homers and the Nation Exhales

FenWest — Wed, 20 May 2009 22:57:53 -0400

Dennis Eckersley said it on NESN: every last fan in Fenway was blowing on that ball, willing it past the wall and into the camera well.

When it landed, Red Sox Nation exploded: a late October slam could hardly draw a louder roar, and the feeling couldn’t really be better.

Papi’s homer doesn’t mean his woes are over. It doesn’t mean he’ll hit .350 from here on out, or that he’ll plant another into the stands tomorrow and every day after. But it means one big weight is off his shoulders, and the world can stop ticking off games since his last bomb.

The tally of homerless days must have felt like sand through an hourglass, measuring fans patience running out. But just before his average would have slipped below .200, Papi belted one good.

He homered at last, with his dad there to watch him. His teammates pulled the old prank, giving him the silent treatment when he first hit the dugout before exploding all at once with an attack of hugs and slaps and cheers: a band of brothers, to be sure. Papi took a curtain call for the still roaring crowd, not one fan seated in all Fenway. Later, he doubled off the wall, by way of a victory lap.

And we can exhale.

Of course, this was no dull game in any case. Papi’s homer was one of four in the bottom of the fifth, tying a club record for runs in a single inning. Jason Varitek was both the first and second Major League player to homer off Jays rookie Brett Cecil, going deep in each of his first two at-bats. And to finish things out, Ellsbury tied the Major League record for put outs with 12, getting his 12^th for the last out of the ninth: the perfect close to a memorable game.

But the loudest ovation was for a moment we won’t soon forget. Whatever comes next, this was Papi’s triumph.

Up from the Cellar: Why Wakefield's Triumph Was More Than Just a Win

FenWest — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 00:30:09 -0400

A win is a win. We all know a win in April counts the same as in October, and that the most exciting tight game counts the same as a blow-out in the standings. But there’s such a thing, even so, as a win that’s something more…

Last Wednesday in Oakland, I found myself back in the bleachers of Oakland Coliseum for the third time that week. I’d been there Monday, to watch Lester struggle badly for the second time in as many starts.

I’d been there Tuesday, when Dice-K made it only one inning before being pulled, and my hands still hadn’t quite thawed from that chilly, twelve inning wind-blown loss. And I was thinking how I must personally be a first-rate jinx, having seen so many Sox implosions here in person, over the years, and…And then Tim Wakefield began to pitch.

One perfect inning.

Then another, and another…

Seven innings and part of the eighth passed before the A’s got so much as a walk from Wake. And even when the no-hit bid was spoiled, that performance remained awe-inspiring.

It was just one game among 162, but no one who was watching Wednesday, either on TV or there at Oakland Coliseum, could mistake that game for “just another Red Sox Win.”

It’s still too early, of course, to point to any single “turning point,” but in the three games since Wake’s complete game gem, the Red Sox have played like they’ve remembered who they are, a team with no business in the basement (unless it’s to pick out October Champagne).

Starting the season, the team had played as if half-asleep.

Since Wednesday, though, bats have come alive. The bullpen has remained heroic. Sox starting pitching is beginning to look more like one of baseball’s best rotations, and less like a liability. And in the games since last Wednesday, the Sox have gone from a .333 winning percentage, to .500.

We’re no longer last in the AL East.

A beautiful turn, no? But it wasn’t just that.

With Lowrie joining Lugo on the DL, Nick Green stepped up to make some of the great defensive plays of that game, and it was his glove work that kept the no-hitter going as long as it did. What can be more encouraging than roster depth so effective that the backup backup shortstop comes through as a stand-out?

(A few days later, he’s still hitting well too, and his double gave the Sox the first run of today’s game). If Lowrie does need surgery on his wrist, Nick Green’s unlikely heroics could take on another whole level of importance.

Kottaras caught Wake for just the second time Wednesday, and the job he did was stellar. If this was a sign of things to come, it just may be that Kottaras has that zen-like knack for catching the uncatchable, and Wake couldn’t have looked any more comfortable with his new batterymate.

And for Wake himself?

There have been a lot of doubts voiced by the fans about Wake’s future. It’s odd that there would be, since Wake just came off a terrific season in ‘08, with his lowest ERA in five years and a win count that hit double digits in spite of the depressing lack of run support that plagued him much of the year.

Some worried because Wake seemed rusty all spring, but this is Tim Wakefield. After 15 years, we ought to have grasped that with Wake, the link between any one start and the next is exactly nil, and the prediction value of his spring is about the same.

What Wednesday showed for Wake is that at 42, his knuckleball still knuckles, and beautifully. Whether or not we see it any given day, he’s just proved it’s still there, good as ever.

There’s one thing more, though, and maybe this is why that day seems already like a turning point, like a game that reminded the team what they are capable of, and reminded them what “giving your all” looks like:

When it came time for Wakefield’s second start, the Sox were getting desperate for a win. The bullpen had been drained utterly in the previous night’s debacle, having to cover 11 more innings after Matsuzaka was pulled.

Wakefield knew a strong performance was badly needed, but even more than that, the team was desperate for deep innings from the starter.

Before the game, Wakefield told Tito and Co., “Don’t take me out, no matter what.”

Don’t take me out, no matter what!

He couldn’t know this would be among the best performances of his career. He couldn’t know he’d be so efficient, so on-target all night, that just 67 pitches would take him through his first seven innings, and that two innings more would seem almost a piece of cake.

He just knew what was needed.

Wakefield is in his 15th year with the Sox. He’s the guy who signed a lifetime contract with his team, a perpetual option, at the “home town discount.”

Some players earn a place in Red Sox lore through grand, eye-catching heroics, but Wake has earned his place just by quietly doing whatever it was that was needed, whatever was asked, and by always giving it his all.

Pitching out of the bullpen in a playoff game? Sure, when that was what was needed. And though an ordinary April game in Oakland feels a lot less epic, this was still a heroic feat, Wakefield Style.

The team was skidding badly before it even got started, and the bullpen was utterly drained.

Wakefield said, “Don’t take me out,” and went on to pitch a near no-hitter, a complete game, one of the best performances of his long career, because that was exactly what was needed.

Maybe, six months from now, we’ll look back on that game as the moment that set the whole season on its track, that woke up a skidding team and lit the fire. Or maybe we’ll forget it entirely, leaving the memory buried under all those other dramas that stand between now and October.

But whatever comes next, remembered or no, that start was heroic. That game was much much more than just a win.

Red Sox Rain Delay Musings (Or, "It's Opening Day! It's Openi... Oh. Drat.")

FenWest — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 23:02:20 -0400

Eternal Spring.

It’s a phrase that gets hauled out in the very purplest of purple prose to describe mild, temperate places, green little Edens for thin-blooded folk.

But for Sox fans?

Just at the moment, “eternal spring” describes spring training that would not end, the seemingly interminable wait for Baseball That Counts, a wait so long we’ve all long-since gnawed through our remote controls.

Oh, spring is a glorious time.

Spring, that season when appetizer-baseball rules the day: a nice starter, but it only leaves us hungrier.

Spring, when players are getting back into shape – and so are the scorekeepers. (When it takes the better part of a game for someone to notice it was Josh Bard, not Daniel Bard doing the catching, or when the scoreboards show the wrong counts about 40% of the time.)

Spring, when we cheer every little victory, because we might as well, and claim that each is a sign of things to come. And when, if a pitcher has a bad outing or a prized slugger struggles, “it’s just spring training. It doesn’t matter. Better to save it for the season.”

Yes, there’s a lot to be said for Spring, this fount of optimism, this training ground of patience for baseball addicts. . .

And that patience is getting put to the test. Just when anticipation reached its peak, the green “rain” zones on the weather maps loomed over New England like the Blob, huge, round, and definitely ominous. And the Blob won: the schedule reads "PPD."

But what’s one more day of waiting? What’s a little extra water for the Fenway grass? What’s one more day to ponder exactly which is the right pair of lucky socks to wear for the first real game?

What’s a little more time for Pedroia to hone his cribbage skills against Tito, and for Youk to get the new season’s beard just right? And how many years do we get to celebrate two Opening Days in a row? That’s a special treat, right?

Right?? You’re completely convinced by this, no?

But I’ve already gnawed through my remote. And I’ve worn a hole in my mouse pad, clicking on every Red Sox link, willing real baseball to happen. I fell asleep with my Sox hat on last night, and no doubt I'll do it again.

Yeah, there’s a lot to be said for spring training.

And there’s a lot to be said for the end of it. Bring on the sun, and the Rays!

Dirt Doggerel II: The Boston Red Sox Offseason in Review

FenWest — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 01:27:41 -0400

In honor of Opening Day—less then one week away—and because such things make baseball fans giddy (even giddy enough to rehash the whole of the long, cold winter wait in rhymed couplets)...

Dirt Doggerel II: The Red Sox Off Season in Review

Pedroia got MVP. Youk came in third.

Their contract extensions? The best news I’ve heard.

Jon Lester is signed now through twenty-fourteen—

Just one year for Paps, but he’s still on the scene.

The foresight of Theo and Co. is uncanny.

(The Dodgers have once again signed our pal Manny.)

Teixeira’s a Yankee now. Blame Leigh, his wife.

Tek’s back in as captain—he’s Red Sox for life.

Big Papi’s all cured. On his bat, the team hinges.

(A-Rod got caught with his cousin’s syringes!)

The bloody sock hero, Curt Schilling, retired.

The sure-fire, Hall of Fame Smoltz was acquired.

We said bye to Crisp – but so glad that we had’im.

(A-Rod got caught with a Manhattan madam!)

We said bye to Byrd, Bard (again!), and Colón.

And Cora and Cash to new rosters have flown.

Kottaras and Lowrie are joining the mix.

Mark Kotsay’s returning, when his back is fixed.

Add Rocco Baldelli, the picture gets clearer.

(A-Rod got caught making out with a mirror!)

We added Ramirez, and Saito, and Penny.

Lowell and Beckett are healthy as any.

The off season’s long as the winter is cold,

But this year the payoff will be solid gold.

October, we mourned after Game Seven: tragic!

But April? The pieces are set for Sox magic.

Theo Epstein's Super-Secret World Championship Strategy

FenWest — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 15:20:59 -0400

It’s one day before the season opener, 2009.

High above the streets of Boston, in a dimly lit office late at night, Theo Epstein sits alone at his desk. The door is locked, the curtains behind him are drawn, and before him on the desk there lies a single sheet of paper: folded once, dog-eared, and faintly yellowed from five years in a locked drawer.

It worked in 2004—worked beyond all expectation—but he hasn't used it since. It's a tool too powerful to use every year, and he's been keeping it safe, waiting for the right moment. Now, that moment is here again. It is time for...The Secret Weapon.

In the silence, Theo unfolds the sheet of paper.

He smiles slightly as he reads.

“How to Win a World Series in Five Easy Steps: A Top Secret, Fail-Proof Strategy.”

“Step One: Lose painfully and traumatically the year before, just when hopes are highest. For best results, this loss should come after blowing an early lead in game seven of the ALCS.”

(Check, thinks Theo. He reads on.)

“Step Two: In the offseason, while fans and players alike are recovering from October heartbreak, begin negotiations for a big name, big-money slugger. Both local and national media will need to portray this contract as virtually a done deal, and moreover, should present it as the critical ingredient in the completing of a World Series team.

Then, at the last moment, just as everyone is expecting the deal to be announced, this player must instead sign with the Yankees. Note: For full effect, the player should be a Scott Boras client.”

(Check, thinks Theo. And he grins more broadly now, remembering how helpful the Yankees were in pulling this step off, just like last time. It's nice, being able to count on people.)

“Step Three: In the offseason, sign a veteran 'big game' pitcher. This must be a player with roughly two decades of experience, including multiple trips to the World Series, and at least one win. Note: This player's primary job will be heroic October performances. Potential Hall of Famers are preferred.”

Theo nods. Smoltz will be just the man for the job, and with luck, he won't even need a limb stitched back together to get it done. Check. He keeps reading.

“Step Four: One team icon and fan favorite will need to go, leaving midseason and on unpleasant terms, moving to the National League and eventually playing for the Dodgers.”

(Here, Theo pauses, and frowns. Manny's exit meets all criteria, but it was a full year early compared to Nomar's, and that might be an issue...But no, the instructions only say, “midseason.” They don't say which season. And besides, with media, fans, and Papelbon all still going on about it, the effect should stay fresh for a while yet. No problems there, then. Check.)

“Step Five: Following the All-Star break, the team must take part in a large-scale motivational brawl against the rival of your choice, preferably the Yankees.

"This should be initiated by a player in a leadership position, and should rapidly escalate to include as much of the roster as possible in one major central brawl and its satellite brawls. The fight will effectively serve as the team mission statement for the remainder of the season.”

(Only one piece left, then, Theo thinks. And there's plenty of time for step five. Maybe he can even get 'Tek to help the younger guys hone their Mitt Facial skills on the side, just to be sure.)

Theo reads this last passage again, and then replaces the sheet in its drawer, and turns the key.

He leans back in his chair and smiles.

Boston, this is the year.

Division Debate: Will the Red Sox or the Rays Rule the Mound in '09? (Sox Side)

FenWest — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 05:52:54 -0500

Spring Training is back. A fresh, new regular season is so close we can taste it, and Grapefruit League games whet the appetite like nothing else.

So to mark the event, (and to celebrate the joys of division rivalries), the Bleacher Report MLB Community Leaders are facing off.

The topic this time:

Much of the epic battle in the ’08 ALCS was built on pitching, and both teams have only gotten better with offseason moves. Whose pitching staff will dominate in ’09: the Red Sox, or the Rays?

Christian Karcole will take the Rays side of this debate, but I’m casting my vote, loud and clear (and just a touch partisan?), on the side of the Sox:

Which team will pitch better in '09?

There’s absolutely no denying the Rays have a strong pitching staff. They did real damage against the Red Sox throughout last year, much to Boston's chagrin. In four games out of seven of the ALCS, they kept Boston’s bats near silent, and I’m just now getting over the trauma.

But there’s been some roster shifting since then, and some rehabbing of arms and shoulders and such, and the changes for Boston have left me with a broad grin.

I’m convinced that in that in this round of the fight at the least, the edge is all Boston’s.

First point: Boston’s starting rotation starts with three bona fide aces, enough to win a poker game, and it sure as heck ought to do for baseball.

Last season, Beckett was less than 100 percent from almost his game of Spring Training. This year? He turned up at camp fit and healthy and throwing sharp. (I’ll grant you, this early on the only hard evidence we fans have seen is that he successfully shut down a bunch of college students, but the reports are all good as well.)

Last season, the Red Sox were just one healthy Beckett away from the World Series. This year, they’ve got a healthy Josh Beckett.

Then, take Jon Lester. Last season, we learned in one historic night what he is really capable of, and he went on to become one of the most consistent guys on the staff.

And yet, to quote catcher Jason Varitek (who caught that no-hit game), “He's still developing, and that’s the scary part about Jon Lester.” Because yes, he’s still honing his skills, still gaining experience, still perfecting his timing and consistency. As good as Lester already was last season, what will he look like when he’s refined his game even further?

Then, Daisuke Matsuzaka: There are plenty who love to downplay his achievements, as high pitch counts regularly drive him from games before late innings, and he’s been known to walk batters like no tomorrow.

Yet the facts stand: Dice-K’s ERA last season was just 2.90, not just lowest on Boston’s staff but third lowest in the AL. His 18 wins tied him for fourth in the AL, and he was credited with just three losses. And, with runners in scoring position, his opponents’ batting averages dropped from puny to nil.

Yes, the top of the order trio of Kazmir, Shields, and Garza is good. Very good. But Beckett, Lester, and Dice-K, they ain’t.

Second Point: An imbalance at the back of the order might have tipped the scale back toward Tampa Bay, but Boston’s rotation doesn’t taper off.

Brad Penny is nothing to sneeze at. If he’s healthy in ’09, he’s likely to be as strong as any No. 4 starter in the game.

And Wakefield’s knuckleball still knuckles in this, his 15th season in Boston. With just 10 wins in 2008, it was easy to miss just how strong his ‘08 season was. He regularly left games with a lead only to get a no decision, or let up only one or two runs and still took a loss from lack of run support. In point of fact, his 4.13 ERA in 2008 was lower than in his 17 win season of 2007, or in his 16 win 2005, or in any other season in the last five years.

This Red Sox rotation is strong, one through five, even before they bring in that future Hall-of-Famer waiting in the wings…

John Smoltz doesn’t have to return to his vintage form to help in Boston. He’s the sort of big game pitcher who defines the type. A good fraction of ‘form’ from Smoltz would be enough. His presence could be huge.

But perhaps the main point in favor of Boston’s staff (and here’s where I’m most confident the Sox have the edge over the Rays) the bullpen they’ve put together for ’09 is about the best it’s been in living memory. Where the Rays will be pressed for bullpen depth, the Red Sox will be swimming in the deep end.

For much of ’08, the gap between starters and Papelbon was a veritable minefield for the Sox, with two and three run bombs blowing up left and right in relievers’ faces, blowing far too many saves along the way.

Yet by the end of the season, the bullpen had become one of Boston’s great strengths: Okajima got back into his groove, and Justin Masterson converted to a reliever, taking to his new task in a big way. That difference was huge.

Yet this year, the new depth and strength of the Red Sox bullpen has been kicked up to another level entirely.

For 2009, Masterson and Okajima will be joined by Takashi Saito and Ramon Ramirez. Saito, like Smoltz and Penny, is coming off injury, but already is pain free and looking sharp, sooner than expected. And Ramirez, acquired from the Royals for Coco Crisp, may just be one of the season’s great surprises for Sox fans.

Together with Javier Lopez and Manny Delcarmen, these guys will have that Bridge to Papelbon rock solid. And just in case they don’t? There’s a whole plethora of hotshot prospects behind them, just waiting for a chance.

Last season, the ERA for Boston’s bullpen was the highest in the AL East. It was a liability that cost a depressing stack of would-be wins. For 2009, it’s a transformation, and one the Rays pen simply can’t match.

A lot of question marks remain for the Red Sox, all across the roster. They are counting on rebound years from a number of returning players, besides the several new signings who had health issues in ’08, the Rays’ former player Rocco Baldelli among them.

They took risks, signing pitchers like Smoltz, Penny, and Saito, hoping for better health and a better year. But Boston doesn’t need all these gambles to pan out.

With the kind of pitching depth currently in the organization, even the backup plans have backup plans. The moves they’ve made have filled in weaknesses on the staff, and made the team’s strengths even stronger.

In this newly-minted Rays/Red Sox rivalry, I see the pitching edge as Boston’s, all the way.

Last Minute Red Sox Musings: aTek of the Bad Puns

FenWest — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 09:02:08 -0500

With just a few hours left, MLB.com offered us a reminder of one more hugely important reason for the Red Sox to re-sign the Captain, Jason Varitek:

We need the puns.

The new headline attached to Ian Browne's article about 'Tek's approaching deadline, as splashed across the MLB main page, reads, "'Tek it or leave it: Deadline today to stay with Sox."

I never did see a sportswriter who could resist a pun as bad as that. And while the Sox roster has plenty of material ("Jed-i Knight: Lowrie fitting in just fine;" "Masterson Just-in Time;" "R-Bay-I Machine: Jason Got the Sox Off and Running;" "Les(ter) is More;" "Great A-Wake-ning;" etc., and those are all authentic, Bay-bee), losing 'Tek would be a devastating blow to the many inveterate, incurable punsters of the press who have more fun with his name than with any other.

Tek Support!

Tek-nical Difficulties!

Tek-Sector!

Tek-Boom!

SpecTekular Bid! (Really. I kid you not.)

Tek Me to Your Leader! (Again, I wouldn't lie about a thing like that.)

And early this morning, "Tek it or leave it"...

We've already said goodbye to "Mannyfest Destiny," and we lost out on receiving the "Tex Message" (which was fine, though, 'cause trading Mikey would have been a Lowell blow). Coco Crisp patently was a pun before the writers ever came near his name, and he also is gone.

Can we afford to lose Varitek too? I put it to you, Red Sox Nation: The risk is too great! And I haven't even touched on all the great plays on "captain," the ship metaphors, and Whitman references...

Theo, you'd better not have blown this. There's too much at stake. 'Tek it from me: We need our captain back.

The Once and Future Captain? Analyzing Jason Varitek's Meeting with John Henry

FenWest — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 16:28:51 -0500

It’s almost cliché by now: the Red Sox still need a catcher, and their catcher-captain is still out there, eager to return.

But after months of near silence on whether 'Tek would re-sign with the Sox, months packed with rumors about young prospects and expensive trades, word came Friday that Jason Varitek and John Henry would meet near 'Tek's home outside Atlanta, one-on-one, no Boras (no bull), at 'Tek’s request.

While the real news here doesn’t go much beyond that—they met, and it “went OK”—the import of those 90 minutes could be huge. Has a tide turned? Is the roster’s last and biggest gaping hole about to be filled?

This meeting wasn’t about a contract, with only John Henry on hand. But, piecing together the scraps from NESN, Sean McAdam, and Tony Massarotti, we have a picture of a sort, and room in it for a little embroidery:

-----------------

Way back when, the Red Sox offered Varitek arbitration. 'Tek turned it down, telling his agent that he wanted more than one year, and years were more important than money.

OK, so this gets interesting right off the bat. In the NESN report we’re told that Varitek has said he actually didn’t know about the compensation draft pick other teams would have to give Boston to sign him.

He blames himself for the oversight, they say, and all this has raised some eyebrows. "He didn’t know?!" I hear you cry. But it seems to me people are raising the wrong eyebrow: the outcry should be, “Boras didn’t tell him?!”

The fact is, 'Tek has only been a free agent once before in his long career, and in ’04 the draft picks never became an issue. He’s had the same agent for 16 years, and trusts that very competent (if slightly evil) agent to see to this sort of thing as he always has, and as he’s paid to do.

And, while Boras failing to mention the fact looks bad now, it’s not so surprising either. ‘Tek asked for more than one year, and Boras thought he could get it for him. No need to worry the client with extraneous details...

One last point here, and it’s one I find funny, because, yes, I’m very easily amused. An amazing number of people have jumped on the idea that ‘Tek must be lying about not knowing. Folks, what precisely would that achieve? He’s supposed to have made up a story about a massive oversight he didn’t actually make and then admitted to it publicly because...?

I’ve given up trying to understand this. The nearest I’ve heard to an explanation was that “it’s called crawling back.” And that would be fine, but that 'Tek isn’t “crawling back” from anywhere. He has nothing to apologize for—Boras is another matter—and hasn’t moved at all from his hope of more than one year.

Scott Boras was out of Boston’s good graces, and negotiations had ground to a halt.

So...“out of good graces” is putting it really mildly. Henry didn’t actually spit venom Friday when asked about his relationship with Boras (Henry: “What relationship?”), but he came about as close as you can get with your fangs still retracted.

When you hit the point of no longer returning phone calls, and when the guy calling is the agent of a player you actually still intend to sign, odds are the focus has slipped right off of contracts and onto “how do I hate thee, Boras, let me count the ways.”

Varitek decided to take a hand, and called to request a one-on-one meeting with the team’s principal owner. Henry then flew down to meet with Varitek near 'Tek’s home, outside Atlanta.

This is the critical point, right here. Even without knowing what was discussed, the fact that the meeting took place as it did speaks volumes. 'Tek reached out, without his agent. Message to the Sox: “You’re ‘not happy’ with Boras, and I get that, but please set it aside for a moment. This is about me, the guy who’s lived for this team for a decade and led it for years, and I want to come back.”

And Henry? Henry didn’t say, “Fine, I’ll be in my office tomorrow.” He flew down to where Varitek lives. For months there was just silence, and even phone calls weren’t returned, but the moment 'Tek steps in personally and without Boras, the team’s principal owner hops on a plane to see him. Message to 'Tek: “All that feuding wasn’t about you. We’re furious with Boras, sure, but not with you, and this is the first chance to show it.”

Varitek made clear his desire to stay with the team, and even to retire as a Red Sox. The two met for 90 minutes, and “it went OK.”

I’ll join the crowd in wishing I could have been a fly on that wall. What really went on in that hour and a half?

It’s no news that 'Tek doesn’t plan on retiring next year; was he trying to convince Henry he’s still got many years of play left in him? Did they talk about the long range, maybe a coaching job down the road? Or did they spend most of their meeting chatting about old times, and taking turns doodling moustaches on pictures of Boras? One can only hope.

---------------------

The meeting happened. NESN learned that negotiations would resume within a few days, which suggests it went more than “OK.” It would seem they're ready to move past the Boston-Boras stare down, as entertaining as that has been.

And if they really are at long last edging toward a deal? Well, that can only be good for everyone involved: 'Tek will be back at the job he loves, and the pitching staff will be elated; ownership gets the catcher they wanted after first enjoying the chance to make Boras squirm; and Theo? Theo can stop trying to keep a straight face when he says, “Sure! Bard, Kottaras, Brown, and Wagner will be just fine for the ’09 season…”

'Tek Notes (A Disgruntled Fan Disposes)

FenWest — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 19:05:55 -0500

"Wars have been won quicker than the Red Sox are dealing with the Jason Varitek situation." -- Bill Reynolds, Providence Journal

Days pass, and I'm starting to wonder: will word ever come about Varitek?

When pitchers and catchers report, will Boston still sport a roster all brimming with pitchers but minus a single strong catcher? Will some of the best pitchers in all of baseball enter spring training teamed with a platoon of backups and prospects, and the Captain still lost out in Baseball Limbo? At this point, I'd hardly be surprised.

It's fully possible that there are factors behind the scenes we don't know about, and that, really, what looks like as massive a show of disrespect as any team ever gave its long-time leader, isn't that at all. It might not be that way.

It's just, it sure looks that way....

So, we keep on waiting, day after day, checking Hot Stove reports for news, scanning the headlines, and still waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And, wondering: how can something so bloody obvious prove so hard to get done?

Boston needs a starting catcher. There's exactly one option out there prepared for the job. The others, potentially available by trade, are uniformly inexperienced, defensively weak, and offensively shaky or untested, better suited to a backup role in '09. That best option, the one player ready to come in as starter, is also the only one whose cost is just money -- something Boston has coming out its ears -- rather than one or more promising young pitchers they'd later regret losing.

And that one best option isn't some unknown factor; he's the team's own captain, a guy who's played in Boston his whole major league career, who led the team to it's first two World Series wins in nine decades, and best of all, who wants to come back to Boston. He belongs in Boston.

What about this is difficult? Boston needs 'Tek, and 'Tek needs Boston. But still we wait, and spring training is only weeks away.

I'm not going back into all the statistical arguments for re-signing Jason Varitek here. I've been there before, as have plenty of others. It's all been covered. But I do want to post a pair of quotations I found on the unofficial 'Tek fan site, jason-varitek.com, quotes which to me, sum up the whole argument for 'Tek's return better than a full length article ever could.

First, from the baseball blog UmpBump:
"Tek plays hurt all the time — probably hurts more than J.D. Drew ever does, but is made of pig iron, chewing tobacco, and Clint Eastwood’s spit, so he never says anything — but with a young, talented catcher on the roster, he wouldn’t have to keep sucking it up all the time."

And from an article in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (November 2, 2007), Manager Terry Francona talking about Varitek after the 2007 World Series:
"When we were on the field after the [clinching] game the other night, he put his head on my shoulder and cried like a baby. He had willed everybody to be so good. I think that's why I'm so calm. I know he's in charge. It's his team."

Read that last bit again, would you? I know fans who claim 'intangibles' really don't matter, but it beats me how they keep up with the games, with their ears and eyes as tightly shut as that.

Just one more thought, from my own writing, to close things out. This is from "The Sox Optimist's Catalog," a list I put together last October with ten reasons I had (and still have) confidence in my team. Every last one of them holds true, and this one especially:

"The Sox didn’t have to put that “C” on Tek’s chest to prove he’s captain. This isn’t hockey. But you watch Tek play, decked out in the full body armor, blocking the plate, taking head-on collisions as needed, and just generally being the dirt dog he is, and maybe hockey isn't so far off. Granted, the Captain is usually pretty soft-spoken in interviews. Why shouldn’t he be? He knows he can break you. He knows you know it too, and if you don’t believe me just try messing with his pitching staff."

Boston, bring the Captain back already: I'm ready for that '09 World Series title.

Josh Bard Is Heading to Boston; Is 'Tek the Next Step in the Long Range Plan?

FenWest — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 18:03:39 -0500

Reports that Boston is signing Josh Bard have bumped past the rumor phase. The Red Sox, it seems, have a catcher.

Thing is, what we've got is a backup catcher. There's more work to be done.

Could the Bard signing be a sign that the Sox really are planning to sort things out with Boras, and bring back Jason Varitek? Might this deal be the pointer to what the team is planning down the stretch?

Bard isn't a starter. But neither is Bard the sort of catcher you want to pair with some rookie kid just learning the ropes. That would give you a pair of backups, not a catching solution.

We already know Bard can't catch Wake, that his defense is quite a bit weaker than 'Tek's across the board, and that in '08 his offense dropped to levels that made 'Tek's offensive struggles look like a triumph. But in previous seasons, Bard has had much stronger offense, and he just may get it back again. If he does, he makes a nice sub late in games for a starting catcher who's struggling offensively. And a catcher like that makes a pretty logical choice if, ultimately, half his role is "placeholder."

Word is, Bard isintended for the role of backup. But backing whom? A Bard-Salty or Bard-Teagarden combo would make no sense for Boston. Both Texas prospects have a long way to go in defense and would be no better off in next season's starting role than Bard. Even those who scoff at the importance of defense would have to shudder there. And for that defensive agony, the Red Sox would still pay an arm and both legs.

But what if the Red Sox have already decided the job will ultimately go to a prospect already in their system?

For that, they pay very little and give up no pitching. They only need the time to get there. They need someone to do the catching until the baby catcher of choice is ready to try life in the big leagues, a year from now or maybe two. That's exactly what the deal with Bard covers: one year, with an option. After that, the young guy can come in as backup, and a bit later still, take the reins for the starting role.

That scenario is hypothetical, but with a gap. Add 'Tek for two years, or two with an option, and the whole thing clicks.

Picture this: 'Tek holds the starting role in '09. If Tek's offensive struggles return, Bard can come in late in close games. If Bard can't recover his offense either, he's used Cash-style, and c'est la vie, but his record suggests better. 'Tek goes back to catching Wake, as he did his first few years with the team.

Meanwhile, the catching prospects in the system are developing and showing what they've got. In '10, we have the option of bringing one of them in as 'Tek's backup, or keeping the Varitek-Bard duo one more year. If the prospect is ready, he takes over for Bard in '10, working alongside Varitek, honing his skills. 'Tek does some serious mentoring while at the same time keeping Boston's pitching staff happy awhile longer. Then, in '11 or '12, the prospect takes over the starting role.

Nothing in that picture is far-fetched.

And the cost? Minimal.

In this scenario, we don't give up Buchholz, or Bowden, or Masterson. We don't give up much even in the way of salary, though that's just a bonus. We get to keep the Captain a while longer, doing what he does best to our pitching staff's delight. (If his offense recovers, so much the better, but a healthy Papi and Lowell alongside Pedroia and Youk and Bay can make up a lot of slack if not.) And we end up with a quality young catcher, ready for the job, and on the cheap.

We'd get a nice smooth transition, shifting the load over time instead of abruptly yanking the team's leader and tossing our whole rotation into the hands of a pair who combine to make a fraction 'Tek's defensive skill. We get time for Boston to see all the options and make choices carefully, not rushing the chosen prospect in before he's ready, and we get time for 'Tek to mentor that kid when he is ready, a thing that can't be overvalued.

Is this what Boston has in mind?

Here's hoping.

Some Red Sox Holiday Dirt-Doggerel

FenWest — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 04:44:52 -0500

In the spirit of Holiday Cheesiness, which always seems so fitting this time of year, my contribution:

The Hot Stove continues, and Sox fans
Are waiting to hear Theo’s big plans
To put this team back
On its glory-bound track,
That huge trophy, held high in Sox hands...

Dear Santa: we'd like one more big bat.
Teixeira, perhaps, in a Sox hat?
And a rotation richer
With one more hot pitcher
Might get the Sox ready for combat.

But Santa, my Christmas wish this year,
Is 'Tek back, and decked out in full gear,
Behind Boston’s plate,
As he was in oh-eight.
That’ll start the real ‘holiday cheer’!

(‘Cause though it’s a great roster we’ve got,
I'll know for sure we’ve got a real shot
When El Capitán
Giving all that he can,
Takes the helm, with a captain-ly squat.)

And then, onward! We’ll stake out our claims
Through one hundred sixty two games:
Pedroia, Youk, Paps and Wake
Tek, Papi, Beckett, Jake…
Once more, World Champion names!

Diary of the Hot Stove Blues

FenWest — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 06:52:03 -0500

So the regular season is just memory now, and pitchers and catchers don’t report for three months. The confetti has settled in Philly. The last of the champagne-soaked jerseys have dried, and the flipped cars have all been righted. The Hot Stove is lit.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the months of News-Free News.

There’s plenty of action now, sure, but it’s all behind closed doors. Instead of news, we get hearsay parading as fact, conflicting reports published in tandem, recycled news reprinted with a headline change to freshen it up, and a good solid dose of pure fiction.

We read it. And watch it. And listen to it. And gnaw our own ankles in frustration, and then read some more.

It’s a special time. And it’s only just beginning…

-------

A Diary of the Hot Stove Blues, November 2008

Day One: Go Phillies! The celebrations for my newly adopted team are barely over, but I’m already anxious for news of my own Red Sox, and their offseason plans. I scan a few official sites, some newspaper sports pages, and reputable blogs.

I read that the Red Sox have few needs. Their first priority will be the decision regarding Jason Varitek, sure to be a challenge because his agent is Scott Boras. There’s also a good chance the Sox will go after Mark Teixeira, and possibly also C.C. Sabathia or A.J. Burnett. Derek Lowe could be interested in returning to Boston. They could potentially trade Coco Crisp.

Translation: All that stuff we all said months ago might happen this off season, we still say might happen this off season. Three cheers for the Hot Stove.

Day Two: Two more papers report that Varitek is expected to file for free agency. Also, they write, the Red Sox will likely bid for Mark Teixeira. Both players are represented by Super Agent (of Darkness) Scott Boras, and negotiations will surely be lively.

Translation: We still expect those things to happen.

Day Four: Varitek has filed for free agency. There’s a quote from Theo Epstein, who acknowledges that Varitek is a free agent, and that the Sox will be talking to him.

Translation: See there? We predict the inevitable really quite well.

Day Five: There’s some discussion of Red Sox options at center. Schilling has filed for free agency. Buchholz is doing well in the Arizona Fall League. The Red Sox will have some important decisions to make, regarding free agent Jason Varitek. They may have interest in C.C. Sabathia and A. J. Burnett. And Mark Teixeira.

Translation: Nice weather today.

Days Six-10: Boras is believed to be asking for an outlandishly large contract for Varitek. The Red Sox will certainly not agree to such a contract. Something in between may well be the outcome, though negotiations are only beginning. The Red Sox are likely to pursue Mark Teixeira, also a Boras client.

Translation: Scott Boras is believed to be Scott Boras. The Red Sox are the Red Sox.

Day 11: Widespread rumors suggest the Red Sox are trying to trade Coco Crisp for Khalil Greene.

Translation: We need something to print, so we’re making stuff up.

Day 12: A Toronto journalist has it on good authority that the Red Sox, (worried that their own catcher is aging and struggling offensively), will be trying to sign Gregg Zaun (who is even older, and struggling offensively). Several media sources report that the Tigers may be interested in Varitek as a replacement for I-Rod. Several media sources report that the Red Sox may be interested in I-Rod as a replacement for Varitek.

Translation: Bob over in classifieds has been prank calling all the sportswriters again.

Day 14: “Varitek Tops Offseason List.” (This article includes the same Theo quotes from late October, but the headline is different, so it counts.) It seems Scott Boras is expected to ask for a large, long-term contract for Varitek. The Red Sox will likely offer something short term. Also, the Red Sox are likely interested in Mark Teixeira.

Translation: Yeah, we still got nothing.

Days 15-17: The Sox are likely to be pursuing Mark Teixeira, as are several other teams.

Translation: Right, so, we’ve got this bet in the office, see? And the idea is, whoever can get away with printing the same thing the largest number of times, without driving more than the pre-set number of readers to acts of violence, wins the pot. And, see, I’ve got a two point lead over Frank and Judith, but Judith just did the thing about Boston’s interest in young catchers from Texas again, and so I had to do Teixeira again to keep up, and…

Translation of Translation: Still nothing.

Day 19: The Red Sox have traded Coco Crisp to the Royals for reliever Ramon Ramirez.

Translation: News! Man, this is awesome! We get to report something today!! Drinks on me, guys!

Day 20-25: The Sox may be pursuing A.J. Burnett. Derek Lowe is interested in coming back to Boston. "Sources familiar with negotiations" say the Sox have offered a one year contract for Varitek. His agent, Scott Boras says they haven’t. Schilling may be retiring. Or he may not. The Sox are likely interested in Mark Teixeira. And maybe also C.C. Sabathia.

Translation: We got nothing.

It’s a long, long Hot Stove season. Anyone got a spare ankle? I’ve gnawed through both of mine.

My Vote for Jason Varitek: It's a Good Kind of Bias

FenWest — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 17:13:55 -0500

“It’s good to have people love you all over the world, but it boils down to ‘Can you play?’” – Willie Mays

Offseason is here once more, with any number of moves the Sox might make, any number of questions awaiting answers. Yet, there is only one question of that burning variety, just one of the sort that demands more attention than Craig Sager’s suits: What will become of Jason Varitek?

It’s no easy question, I’m told. Ten years of accumulated memories have a gravity of their own, distorting the things around them. This is the Captain we’re talking about; and there’s no hiding that fact behind a pile of stats and scouting reports—you might as well hide Big Papi behind Dustin Pedroia.

Whether the Sox re-sign their leader or let him walk, it will not be just a catching question. And it won’t be easy.

That’s what they say, but to me, it should be easy.

Sure, I’ve been accused before now of bias where the veteran backstop is concerned, and my response is, “well, yes. Of course.”

Most people are biased, one way or the other. (For a sample of bias turned the other way, try Chad Finn’s blog at the Globe, where Tek-bashing has long been practiced with quasi-religious determination; the snarkiness is awesome to behold.)

Some preach the Mighty Intangible; some yell “Overrated!” to the skies. Either way, with Jason Varitek, "perspective" and "objectivism" just aren’t easy to keep.

If you ask me, though, that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe a little bias, a little opinionated banter the numbers can’t touch, is good for us in the baseball world. And maybe, sometimes, that view strikes nearer the truth.

(Stats addicts, put down the projectiles and edged weapons. I haven’t lost it. Hear me out.)

Mostly, when people talk about biased fans in baseball—certainly when they’ve said it to me—they mean that people value a particular player beyond what statistics justify, that other factors are slipping in. The mostly also mean the fans in question are fools unworthy to wear their team’s hat.

Nonsense, I say.

(continued p.2)

First off, everyone is biased. Merely spouting stats doesn’t change that: You’ve still got to choose which stats to spout. You’ve still got to work out which ones are important and what they mean, and if that were all hard science, the game would be a lot less fun.

(In my own dear field of archaeology, they’ve been debating this for decades: People used to claim you could trade your tweed jacket for a lab coat, make some charts, write a few formulae, and leave your subjectivity behind you. More recent work using critical theory has responded, “Hogwash.” There’s no escaping bias, so you may as well make the best of it.)

There’s more, though. A stats-only view is supposed to keep us from seeing what isn’t there, but what about when it keeps us from seeing what is? Stat-free “Intangibles,” etc., can be pure hype and PR, but they can also describe a reality as relevant as any average.

To be sure, some "other factors" that sway a fanbase may be utterly pointless come contract time. The average “Marry Me, Jacoby!” shirt, say, is not inspired first and foremost by the rookie’s outstanding speed and perfect fielding percentage.

On the other hand, a doctor I know became an Ellsbury devotee out of recognition of what he called, “Ellsbury’s pure athleticism.” He was talking about something he sees in the way Jake plays the game, something that’s not quite definable, but which screams potential, and screams, “This kid is doing what he was born to do. He will be great.”

When it comes to showing the hard evidence, the doctor is no better positioned than the flock of would-be fiancés, but to his mind, (and mine too), it’s a real thing, and a valid reason for an extra ounce of faith in the kid.

So, back to the Captain. At the end of the day, what we want to know about any player is, “Can he play?” and, “What will he add to the team?”

Usually, to find out, we take our stat-happy selves to the altar of all-knowing numbers and ask away. With Tek, the inside story is that that won’t work, not if we want the whole picture.

Virtually everyone who comes into contact with this guy insists as much: teammates, coaches, managers, even many of the sportswriters...They all insist there’s more there. And they all insist that the "something more" is at least as important as the stats.

(Continued p.3)

It may be impossible for us, outside the team looking in, to ever understand what Varitek’s teammates know. But ignoring what they say because it isn’t ‘hard fact’ is a risky move. After all, they just might know what they’re talking about.

Yes, that’s a tough idea to take for a lot of the stat frat. Some reject the whole idea as heresy, rebel, and wind up as prominent members of the Tek-Bashing Brigade. (Yes, Chad Finn, I’m talking to you.) Some just try to ignore it. And some, meanwhile, accept it and give three cheers that for once they can take a good look at a player without peering from behind their pocket calculators.

It comes down to this: to say, “re-sign Tek because everybody likes him,” is nonsense, yes. You might as well say, “Re-sign Tek because I like spaghetti.” But to say, “We should re-sign Tek because what he brings to the team is unique and irreplaceable,” well...That’s something else again.

If false, it would still be irrelevant nonsense, but if true, it’s anything but. If true, it’s vital.

So is it true?

Is Jason Varitek’s leadership irreplaceable? Do his preparation and work ethic really give the whole team extra confidence and an ideal role model? Are his game-calling skills really as unparalleled as his pitchers all say? Maybe. (Given the whole "four no-hitters" thing, I’m inclined to believe the pitchers.)

Maybe the off-field trauma in Tek’s personal life, plus a pair of nasty viral illnesses and contract-year stress combined to wreak havoc on his offensive season. (Or maybe he’s just getting old, and the .220 average says it all. But I doubt that.)

“Hard facts” have nothing to say on those matters, but in my happily "biased" state, I’m free to chuck my pile of box scores in the corner for a moment and try taking Tek’s colleagues at their word:

From Coco Crisp: “when you have the captain back there you have a good chance of winning."

From Dustin Pedroia: “Everyone looks to him for advice and looks up to him. That’s why he’s the captain of our team. He sets the tone."

From bullpen coach Gary Tuck: “Tek is like a pilot. We're flying along, and we run into a storm, and he takes it up a few thousand miles, brings it back down. He gets you through it."

From pitching coach John Farrell: “He's the most valuable member of our pitching staff."

The pitchers seem to agree with Farrell, and we "biased" folk get to enjoy that fully, too. Beckett, Papelbon, Lester, Buchholz, Matsuzaka, Paul Byrd, Derek Lowe...They’ve all gone on about it. Quotes from Curt Schilling on this subject could literally go on for pages.

(Continued p.4)

There have beenplenty of testimonials of that sort, all with the "inside perspective." (There’s a great collection here, in the right-hand column.) But one quote in particular sticks out to me:

Following the World Series victory in 2007, Terry Francona said, "When we were on the field after the [clinching] game the other night, he put his head on my shoulder and cried like a baby. He had willed everybody to be so good. I think that's why I'm so calm. I know he's in charge. It's his team."

What can objectivity possibly add to that?

Somewhere along the way, the hard line between "objective" and "subjective" becomes hazy. Somewhere, one starts to wonder whether sticking to the cold hard facts is a good idea after all.

The game is played by humans, and humans impact one another in ways no formula will ever capture. Are all those teammates “biased?” Probably. But I find I find their biased claim that "intangibles" matter a lot more convincing than an outsider’s biased claim that they don’t.

Maybe it’s that archaeological training—my inner anthropologist at work—but I will always see statistics as a tool. An extraordinary, sophisticated tool, but still just a tool. Stats are description, not interpretation. Stats get us started, but they aren’t the stopping point.

From stats alone—if that perspective were possible—I think I’d still want Varitek back on the team in ‘09. He really is the best defensive catcher available. He’s the only one we could get that I’d trust with Boston’s pitching staff. He's the only option that doesn’t leave me good and scared, in fact.

But, when it comes down to it, I want Varitek back on the team not because there’s such a paucity of good catching out there, or because he can be signed without giving up promising young pitchers, or even because the next best options are young and raw and unready. I want him back because, when he’s on the roster, I feel better about the Red Sox chances, even about who they are as a team.

I have no numbers to show you why, no objective proof.

It’s a feeling based on something else, something...intangible.

And you know what? I’m ok with that.

Hey, Theo: just re-sign the guy, ok?

Phenway Phaithful Phinds the Phillies a Phavorite

FenWest — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 12:30:15 -0400

I’m rooting for the Phillies now, and I am a Red Sox fan.

Don’t call me bitter.

I really am rooting for the Phillies, not against the Rays. After what I just watched the Rays do, I can’t help but respect them. What I watched the Rays do, of course, was win against odds and expectations after coming seven outs from a series win, blowing a lead—the likes of which no team had ever blown—and falling back from 3-1 to a series tie, thus adding stomach ulcers to the Rayhawks and cowbells that mark their newly minted fanbase.

It was almost Sox-like, and it warmed my heart.

Nevertheless, for this World Series, I am rooting for the Phillies.

It isn’t because I have good friends who love the team, although I do, or because my sister-in-law is a Pennsylvania expat, which she is.

It isn’t because I’ve enjoyed my brief stays in Philadelphia, which I have.

It isn’t the convenience and comfort of wearing basically the same team colors during games, as nice as that is.

It isn't my objection to indoor baseball, which, in my mind, is not baseball. (If it doesn't have rain delays that go on for hours when the temperature is 33 degrees Fahrenheit, the fans all battling hypothermia to stay through the ninth, and a few games a year where half the fans pass out from heat stroke, I say it isn't baseball. That could just be me.)

Don't even get me started on the Trop's catwalks. But it isn't that.

And the Phillie Phanatic is an infinitely cooler mascot than that Raymond thing, with the bonus sinister edge of having been prime suspect in a bomb scare earlier this season—has Raymond ever gotten the St. Pete bomb squad to blow up his duct tape and foil-wrapped projectile hot dog? I think not.

But it isn’t that, either.

No, mostly I’m here for the nostalgia. It’s the losing, you see.

The Rays have a fantastic story, a worst-to-first Cinderella baseball fairytale, and that’s great. They’ve been amazing all season long, while the whole nation doubted (and I, like all Red Sox fans, got a front-row seat for the carnage). They’ve done it after years of showing just how losing is done, and they’d done some real quality losing.

Me? I want more than just quality.

I want quantity, too, and the Phillies have got it.

Call me greedy, but I salivate at the thought of 10,000 losses. The Phillies have achieved what my own Red Sox could not, even in their decades upon decades as hapless, hard-luck losers. Ten thousand losses! The losingest team in history! Not just baseball history. They’ve lost more games than any team in sports, and what’s not to love about that?

Rooting for the Phillies, waves of nostalgia overwhelm me, and my heart is won.

I grew up to that familiar refrain, “wait till next year!” and I believed it because believing it was what one did. But I also grew up knowing that, for generations, we’d all been waiting for next year, and it had not come. There was a subtext, unspoken: "We won’t win next year, either; but we might, you see. We know we won’t, but we might, and that’s the point."

For the Phils, there has been a taste of “next year” exactly once. The rest has been 10,000 losses. The sheer heft of the accumulated letdown is astounding and familiar, and it’s something I can get behind. Because, hey, this really could be the Phillies’ year, in spite of the angst, the generations of angst, and I know how to do that!

Or, then again, it might not be the Phillies’ year—dratted Rays—and I know about that one, too.

Either way, Philadelphia, I'm rooting for you.

Besides...

Like I said, the Phanatic is cooler.

Hear Ye, O Boston! (Hope for the Olde Towne Team)

FenWest — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 06:00:25 -0400

Hear o Boston, mourn not for thy team who have passed from October play to greener golf courses.

Verily I say unto thee, thou hast seen the dead made to live again, and didst rejoice.

For lo, when thy team did skid in the ALCS and lose three straight, didst not thou cry out with great wailing and many sharp expletives? Didst not thou mourn as unto death, and cry, “Why the bleep canst not Big Papi hit? And what’s with Beckett?” And thou wert in despair. Booedst thou thy Captain and thy Slugger, and gottest thee wasted.

But Francona stepped forth in Game Five, and said unto thee, “This team is not dead, but only sleeping.”

In scorn didst thou laugh, then, knowing thy team to be dead. Seven outs to go, and seven runs, and the Sox belted not.

But lo, even then stepped the Jockey into the batter’s box, with one on, and did swing, and drive in Lowrie. And then camest Big David Ortiz, and then smote he the ball.

The score, seven-four, Tampa Bay.

J.D. Drew came then also, and likewise did smacketh the ball, belting it out for two runs, and Crisp droveth in one for the tie. I heard thee then, Boston, exclaim in thy passion: “Youuuuuuuuuukkkkk!!!!” And Youk reached, and advanced he unto second on the throw.

Thoughtst thou not that thy head would explode when Drew singled in Youk for the walk-off?

The win was thine! Thy team lived, and thou went forth and partied too much.

Game Six came then unto thee, Boston, and once more came harsh battle. Josh Beckett, though injured, pitched onward, and the Sox batters strove. Fought they mightily ‘gainst Tampa Bay. Yet–perdition!–the score remained tied. “Frickin’ cowbells,” didst thou mutter again, and yea, even again.

With two outs in the sixth, ‘twas the Sox captain stood at the plate. And see! Knocketh he dirt from his spikes now, now raiseth his bat.

15 times had Tek stridden unto the batter’s box. 15 times, in sorrow had returned. Yet lo, in his 16 at-bat, he did smite the ball a fell and mighty blow, even unto the ends of right-center. It flew hence, o’er the heads of fuddled Rays, and the lead was Boston’s, and Game Six too was theirs, and great wast thy song and rejoicing!

A third time didst thou party hard.

Then camest game seven. O woe! Woe unto thee Boston, and unto thy sons and thy daughters. A great wailing riseth up in thy streets now, and much lamentation.

Yet I say unto thee, mourn not so, as a team sore bereaved. And whine not, as the dullards and Yankees fans. For their yammering is as an abomination.

The gift of two wins wert thou given, from the men thou hadst booed. Two days more of Baseball were thine, and the chance to feel smug. Thou my hometown! October wast thine, nineteen days. Weep no longer.

Verily, weeping endureth for the night, but joy cometh next season.

Francona abides with thee, and so too Theo. Pedroia, and Papi abide. J.D. Drew doth abide with thee, and Bay and Coco Crisp, and Ellsbury, thief of many bases. Youkilis and his beard still art thine. Yea, also hast thou many pitchers!

For lo, Beckett and Lester, yea, and Matsuzaka, and Wakefield hurleth even unto the sixth and seventh innings, with cries of, “ooh, that curve wert nasty.”

Then wilt come hence Okajima and Masterson, bringing much relief, and Papelbon shalt slam hard the door. And if Boras screws not with thee, Tek too shall stay, and wilt guide thy team’s ship through rough seas.

Take heart, thou my Beantowne. Thine undoing is brief.

Next year, the Rays art going down.

ALCS Game Five Reflections: Oh We of Little Faith!

FenWest — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 20:10:58 -0400

How, Red Sox Nation, can we have won tonight?

How can it be that, after seeing Boston down 7-0 entering the seventh, I am reeling right now with joy?

To be sure, I play “Don’t Stop Believing” at regular intervals this time of year. I have “Dirty Water,” too, and “Tessie,” "Sweet Caroline," and “Shipping Up to Boston” on my list. I keep them cycling on my computer all through October. And I do believe. Boston, I do!

But trailing by seven runs in the seventh inning???

Sometimes my team puts my own faith to shame.

I saw the deficit and the odds and allowed them to sway me. How could I? How could I have thought it impossible merely because it was? (I should have remembered The Princess Bride: “We’ll never survive!” said Buttercup. “Nonsense,” said Wesley. “You’re only saying that because no one ever has.” And after all these years, shouldn’t I have learned that from my Sox?)

In the 1986 ALCS, they were down 3-1. The next thing they did was win.

(The next thing after that was lose, and tragically, but that’s a different matter).

In the 2004 ALCS, they were down 3-0. The next thing they did was win. And win again.

In 2007, they were down 3-1. The next thing they did was win.

A measly seven run deficit tonight, and I lost faith?

Pedroia, Youkilis, Okajima, Masterson, Papelbon, Kotsay, Lowrie, Crisp, dear Drew, and dearest of Papis. They have shown me the error of my ways.

I’m sorry, my Boston Red Sox! Whatever comes next, whatever comes in Saint Pete, I apologize.

‘Til the last out, there is always hope.

American League Championship Scuffling (A Boston Tradition)

FenWest — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 10:35:56 -0400

There are losses, and then there are losses.

These last two were definitive losses.

They were kick-in-the-gut losses, mind-numbing losses, losses that leave a fan down. One was a five-and-a-half hour fiasco, and one, a quick, sharp blow to the head.

And so, on a sunny California Tuesday morning, I wake in a world where my beloved Sox are down 2-1 in the ALCS. It’s sad. And it’s strikingly familiar!

I don’t need to remind anyone of last year’s comeback, down 3-1 to the Indians. I certainly don’t need to remind you of 2004, when a comeback made history. Scuffling in the ALCS, and then coming back to beat the odds is a team tradition. The Olde Towne Team has always been big on tradition.

Yes, they’re at it again, those history-loving Sox. It wouldn’t be right to just take a lead in this series. It isn’t done!

Now, do they remember how the next part goes?

The scuffling part is down pat, and it’s hard to pin down the low point of the series so far. I imagine most fans will have their own picks. The first time Beckett gave up a lead in Game Two, there was a drop in elevation, I'd say. The second and third times, we were plummeting. The Rays homered off Timlin to win it, and we were very low indeed.

There was the big inning in Game Three, Lester’s first ever postseason earned runs, and there was the three-run homer off Byrd that closed the coffin on a game already dead. The ball left the park and, moments later, so did half the fans.

But none of those, to my view, marked the low point.

It was earlier in Game Three, before the Rays lead became insurmountable, and before a few more glimmers of hope had been snuffed. For me, it was in the fourth inning.

They booed the Captain.

Now, fans of other teams may think me nuts at this point. Jason Varitek has just completed his career worst offensive season and has yet to hit so much as a single in the ALCS. There was also a passed ball that helped lead to the Rays first run, this from the catcher who tied for fewest passed balls in the league during regular-season play. Why not boo him, they'll say. But Fenway's own Faithful did, and I reeled in shock.

For any outsiders, let me explain. Varitek is team captain, yes, but it’s more than a title, or relic from "back when he used to hit more." He’s revered for his game-calling, revered for his leadership, and revered for his professionalism.

His pitching staff regularly credits him with making their best games possible. He’s caught more no-hitters than any catcher in history. Players at every position have said that with Tek behind the plate, they always feel they’ve got a good chance of winning. (They’re right, too: The team’s winning percentage when Tek starts at catcher is .602, .458 when he doesn’t). John Farrell has called him “the most valuable member of our pitching staff.”

He goes all out, every game, in whatever way he can, and fans embraced him long ago as a symbol of the team’s heart and spirit. He's known as one of the most selfless players in the game. And even when he struggles, he's the leader. He's The Guy Who Shoved A-Rod! He's the backbone.

Last night, the Faithful booed Tek.

Et tu, Fenway?

When mad enough, or hurt enough, I know anyone will kick. When the crowd started kicking at Varitek, I knew—really knew—we were low.

Oh, Tek got cheers too, later, when he woke the crowd with that beautiful plate block, saving a run in the eighth. Any momentum that play might have brought, though, died with Baldelli’s homer.

It isn’t only Tek who’s finding this ALCS hard going.

Ellsbury is still 0-for-the-series in leadoff, as is resident slugger David Ortiz in the three-hole. Those are terrifying stats. Youk, Bay, and the Jockey can't pull the whole team's weight!

As for the pitching...Well, you know about that. Beckett was pounded throughout his start, and gave up three separate leads. Surely this is some kind of playoff record. Lester had just one big inning, but that was enough. He was invulnerable no more. Our own offense never did crack Garza.

Even the fans have been badly off their game. Booing Tek was bad enough, and Big Papi got a similar treatment -- both suggesting a frightening epidemic of memory loss in Boston. It was more than booing icons, though. The crowd was strangely quiet from the start, and many didn’t stay to see the finish. Verily, even at Fenway.

So here we stand. Three games in.

We aren't done playing yet.

But now Sox fans are in a kerfuffle, and I want full credit for spelling that.

Fans are swarming the message boards and radio call-in shows, telling how they could have managed better, how such and such player needs to be tossed, so and so be benched, how the whole team stinks, etc.

It’s the wounded dog wanting to bite. It’s more spitting in the wind. Perhaps you’ve heard it?

Take it from the man who got booed last night: “We’re down 2-1, but we’re still in this. Now we need to focus forward and worry about tomorrow.”

Yes, we fans may ache like Tek's neck after last night’s collision. We’re broken like Beckett (who still claims his oblique is just fine, thanks). We’re feeling as sore as Lowell’s hip, as trampled as the Fenway basepath, and we want to kick someone. But we are still in the championship series. The Yankees aren't. The Angels aren't.

We are down by one game.

One game? A pathetic attempt at falling behind.

Years past, we’ve seen impossible comebacks in this series, each one a thing of sheer beauty. We could always use another gem like that, another little spark of postseason joy to remember.

If we lose again tonight, we can start hoping for one of those. But otherwise, Boston, alas, we’ll have to settle for an ordinary comeback. That type may not be quite as sweet, but it's filling. And it doesn't give you heartburn.

Here's to the BoSox, championship scufflers. And here's to impossible comebacks!

The Sox Optimists' Catalog (or, 10 Reasons the Rays are Going Down)

FenWest — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 23:18:16 -0400

Gloom is more respectful of tradition, but I could never help being an optimist. A Red Sox fan, yes, and an optimist, even before 2004. Expect the worst, but hope for the best. It's still my policy.

When we headed to LA last week, I expected the worst. They’d pounded us in eight of nine games, so why stop there? But I hoped for the best. We’d faced the AL East all season, while LA swatted down the scary Mariners and A’s, and with that idiotic monkey…

No, no need to dwell on the monkey. It’s probably fighting to keep its job now, and why beat a fellow primate when it’s down?

The Red Sox took that glorious series in four. They stepped it up, Sox Style, all down the order. And oh, those winning moments! Bay’s performance was enough to set off a whole new wave of bad puns. Drew, fresh off the DL, homered when we needed him most. Lowrie came through with a ninth-inning hit that renewed all my guilty joy over Lugo’s bad break. Jon Lester was Jon Lester. And when Varitek pulled an Ellsbury and actually outran Willits for the out on that botched squeeze… Well, it’s a moment I’ll cherish forever (suicide squeeze? You bet).

So we made it. Now on to Tampa Bay.

This season, the Sox won only one game at the Trop, and we optimists may be back on the defensive. The upstart Rays, the Cinderella team, the Disney Movie Waiting to Happen will not make our lives easy. On their turf, we’ve looked miserable. We’re going to a place where for six months we could not win, to take on the Frodos of baseball. We’re the villains this time, so they say. And it could be the Rays have our number.

But I say, not a chance.

Without further ado, here’s an optimists’ catalog: ten things Boston's got that Tampa Bay doesn’t, ten small signs that these Red Sox of ours can take anything:

1. Dustin Pedroia’s Uniform:

It’s one of life’s great certainties: one inning into any Red Sox game, Dustin Pedroia will look like he hasn’t changed in a week. The guy honestly does not know how not to dive after a ball hit his way—or one not hit his way, for that matter. If there’s a ball in play, Pedroia pretty much dives. “Baseball’s answer to the Jack Russell terrier”? Could be. Dirt Dog? You bet. And he’s a horse. He might even be MVP.

2. Kevin Youkilis’s Beard:

To borrow from the guys at Surviving Grady, “Some baseball players were just meant to look like filthy degenerates. Kevin Youkilis is one of them.” Those who doubt this need only revisit the photos of Youk’s black eye from last June: this man was born to look scary. Cross him at your peril, Tampa Bay.

3. Jason Varitek’s “C”:

The Sox didn’t have to put that “C” on Tek’s chest to prove he’s captain. This isn’t hockey. But you watch Tek play, decked out in the full body armor, blocking the plate, taking head-on collisions as needed, and just generally being the dirt dog he is, and maybe hockey isn't so far off.

Granted, the Captain is usually pretty soft-spoken in interviews. Why shouldn’t he be? He knows he can break you. He knows you know it too, and if you don’t believe me just try messing with his pitching staff.

4. Jason Bay’s Last Name:

My first reaction when I heard Bay was coming to Boston, even before, “they really traded Manny?” and “Who’s Jason Bay?” was, “Oh brother. The sportswriters are going to love this one.”

Sometimes, you can see the puns coming from miles and miles away.

The fact that Bay has made it this far and is playing this well without yet being beaten down by the sheer weight of terrible puns tells me this is one tough human being. Yeah, Bay-bee, you better believe it.

5. David Ortiz’s Smile:

Oh yes, that is the smile of a man who quite possibly heals sick children with hugs. It’s also the smile of a man who knows that even with a broken wrist, he can hit the ball farther than you can. But he thinks it’s awfully cute you still try.

6. Jacoby Ellsbury’s Feet:

The really great part of this ALCS will come in Game Two, when Jacoby takes off running on an ordinary base hit, reaches warp speed, and crosses home plate before the ball has actually left his bat. It’s only a shame we won’t see it clearly on TV, film speeds being what they are. (Later in this same game, Coco Crisp will attempt to duplicate the feat but will fall just short, instead merely achieving liftoff and causing game delays while we wait for him to stop lapping the Trop’s roof).

7. Jonathan Papelbon’s Right Fist:

If there’s an opportunity for an emphatic fist pump and a good loud yell, Jonathan Papelbon will not miss it, and the playoffs are packed with these opportunities. You think he’d let the Rays stand in his way? Not Paps. He’ll be fist-pumping clear to the World Series.

8. Jon Lester’s immune system:

Look: the fact is, compared to, say, death, a few guys with little wooden sticks just aren’t that scary. And the fact that he’s a no-hit pitcher, a world series winner, and has yet to allow a single earned run in postseason play, well, those things don’t hurt either.

9. Josh Beckett:

Just, don't mess with him. 'K?

10. The Red Sox:

Yeah, that’s the last one, for this list at least. The Red Sox have the Red Sox, and that’s no copout finish.

This team has self-assuredness and an October-ready attitude that you can spot in the greenest rookies as much as in the battle-scarred vets. They have professionalism. They have grit. They stick to Tito’s rules: “Play hard, play the game right. [. . .] And, if you can’t follow that, you got some issues.” And the way they stick together and stick up for one another, fight for each other and celebrate together, sometimes you'd swear this bunch is a family, as much as a team.

(Right. And if that sounds like the maudlin ramblings of a punchy, play-off crazed fan still writing at 3:00 AM, there’s a reason for that. But that doesn’t make it any less true.)

That’s 10 things Tampa Bay doesn’t have. 10 things Tampa Bay can’t get.

So somebody hand Pedroia another clean jersey, and bring on the ALCS!

(Also featured at http://eastbaydirtdog.blogspot.com/2008/10/sox-optimists-catalog-or-10-reasons.html)

Rest Easy, Red Sox Nation: We Still Know How to Suffer

FenWest — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 19:23:26 -0400

It isn’t like the old days, you know.

Of course you know.

It used to be all about suffering and agony, and loving this team meant pain. There was no other way, and though heartbreaking autumns were the only end to even the most beautiful summers, still we held on.

There was hope too, or we swore that there was. We assured ourselves it didn’t count as lying. Ultimately our saga was the sports world’s take on Hamlet: a long, long play, and while the scenes might be real classics, you know up front that in the last act everybody dies.

In 2004, all the corpses stood up, and Hamlet said, “Great duel, guys. Shall we do it again? How’s next Tuesday work?”

There’s been one postseason appearance after another, a second World Series, all manner of titles and awards for the players…“Next Year” came and went, and came again. Now when we say, “This team could go all the way,” we have the nerve to actually mean it, full in the face of all we once knew to be true. There are those who think that the old ways are gone forever.

Clearly, they don’t know.

Perhaps it’s that nearly nine decades have honed our skill, but I find that we Red Sox fans are still suffering just fine, thank you. More subtly, perhaps, and with more effort, but we haven't lost the talent. Red Sox Nation will always find a way.

As evidence, I submit tonight’s game: a win would have clinched Boston's spot for October. What we got was a 4-3 loss to the Indians, in which two Red Sox runs could not score because Jeff Bailey’s hit bounced off an umpire. Really.

The sixthinning line drive ricocheted off third base ump Gerry Davis and, instead of heading down the left field line for a probable double, it caromed over to third baseman Jamey Carroll. Bailey’s extra bases were cut to a single, and in place of two RBIs, we saw the homeward bound Bay caught in a rundown. Inning over.

There were, of course, other opportunities. After scoring one more run with one out in the seventh the Sox loaded up the bases, and even a walk would have tied the game. They left them loaded. They also got two men into scoring position with two outs in the ninth. Neither made it home.

But it was really the Umpire Billiards that gave me the familiar feeling, as if this headache I’ve got had been wished on me by the universe itself. Somehow victory was close enough to taste, but not to touch, and the wild card will wait another day.

In fact, it was not unlike these weeks and weeks of flirting with first place and falling just short, sometimes by thousandths of a point. (That “virtual tie” last week? We knew what that meant. Even then we were still in second place).

So take heart, Red Sox Nation!

Yes, the Curse is broken now, twice over, and yes, a postseason berth is all but ours. But just because the Red Sox have been good these last few years, that doesn't mean the fates can't still mock us. Somehow or other, they will always manage. Some grand traditions never die.