Boston Red Sox: Jon Lester's Excuse-Laden Confession Misses Critical Point

You have to grant Boston Red Sox ace pitcher Jon Lester this much: He was right in multiple senses of the word when he spoke to the Boston Globe’s Peter Abraham and confirmed his rumored clubhouse indiscretions with fellow starters Josh Beckett and John Lackey.

Lester was noble to admit to consuming beer and fast food on his non-start days while his teammates labored on the field and to express at least a degree of regret. He was technically accurate in saying that such actions were not the sole, or even the topmost reason why the Red Sox tumbled as they did from top dogs to dog waste within the final month of the 2011 season.

With that being said, we now have confirmation that three-fifths of Boston’s starting rotation, arguably the most leaned-on portion of it, was indulging itself on off-days. And no matter how often this happened, to what degree it happened or even how commonplace it might be anywhere else, it is wholly inexcusable.

The accounts of the recent Lester interview instantly reminded me of a comparable incident that took place during my first of three years as a student-sportswriter at Shattuck-St. Mary’s prep school in Minnesota. To lay it out in a nutshell, Shattuck is renowned for its nationally competitive athletic programs, most notably its boys’ hockey program, which has produced more than a dozen NHLers and won seven USA Hockey U18 national titles since 1999.

The incident in question concerned one of the four teams in Shattuck’s Midget travel hockey program. The team in question was, in essence, the top-level, national championship team’s ECHL affiliate and the two of them were about to host a doubleheader against the JV and varsity teams from the Blake School (of D3: The Mighty Ducks fame).

The lower-level team, classified as Midget AA, would precede the U18 “prep” team with a 5 p.m. face-off. But first, as the story goes, there was a mandated team study hall in the lobby of the rink an hour before dry-land warmups. The players were told that anybody who failed to participate would not suit up for the game.

One of the defensemen on this team rashly chose to test his coach’s ultimatum by leaving his books in his dorm room. Within moments of entering the rink myself to cover this doubleheader, I saw that same player paying a Pizza Hut delivery man and digging into his newly obtained treat right in front of his studious teammates.

Can you believe that? Here was an aspiring prospect in a prep hockey program that has drawn repeated parallels to the New York Yankees and Notre Dame football, and on the day of a game against a time-honored intrastate rival, he consciously violated a team policy and confirmed his laziness by having his post-game meal four hours early.

Yet inexplicably, while this young man haughtily, nonchalantly and flagrantly failed to keep the “student” in “student-athlete,” he still played the role of athlete that day. Supposedly, he was kept in the lineup because of an emergency shortage of healthy players.

But who knows? Maybe this guy’s coach put him in the game in hopes of letting the combination of excess pizza consumption and subsequent exertion be his punishment. I didn’t ask, for in that environment and where I was in my career, my job was just to describe how the games turned out, not to be a behind-the-scenes muckraker.

Compared to the Red Sox’ Popeye-gate, that is only negligibly disturbing. This was a 15-year-old who obviously hadn’t lived long enough to learn a little humility. And he was ostensibly representing the lowest echelon of a high school-aged athletic program.

Conversely, the Sox are a century-old institution that is frequently seen as bigger than life, and these are three pitchers who have combined to win four World Series rings.

In any case, what Lester, Beckett and Lackey have obviously not considered is the unlikely event of an off-day turning into a relief outing. And as Red Sox pitchers, no less, they ought to be educated on the history of their organization and understand that you never know what’s going to happen.

Do the words “Longest Game” mean anything? As any responsible New England baseball enthusiast knows, the 1981 Pawtucket Red Sox once engaged in a record-setting 33-inning bout that included 32 innings played in an uninterrupted span of eight hours. The PawSox used seven different pitchers that night, the opposing Rochester Red Wings six.

In today’s game, with more emphasis on pitch count, a game that long would doubtlessly feature a greater number of pitching changes. That would likely mean delving into one’s supply of starters at some point.

So, contrary to Lester’s assumption that his alcohol and fast-food consumption at game time couldn’t hurt his team, there is always the chance that it could. Being on a team’s 25-man roster and donning the uniform at game time is supposed to signal the understanding that you could be called upon at any time in the day or night to help fork after another victory.

Accordingly, to do anything remotely detrimental to your game-ready condition is nothing shy of an affront to your teammates, higher-ups and fans.

If anybody should know better, it’s a troika of millionaire pitchers. And if anybody deserves better, it is a franchise and fan base like that of the Boston Red Sox.