After thrills, chills, and Schill, Manny's role was no biggie

Wednesday was about everyone -- not Manny.

The way the vitriol has been exploding on sports talk radio the past few days, you would think Manny Ramirez threw a basket of kittens into the Charles River rather than the ceremonial first pitch before Wednesday night's Red Sox-Braves game. Talk about the fellowship of the miserable.

As someone who was standing close to the field during Wednesday's 2004 team reunion at Fenway, I can tell you that Ramirez's role during the ceremony was really no big deal. 

Yes, Manny was introduced last. Yes, he threw out the first pitch. But by the time Ramirez emerged from inside the Green Monster (a funny touch in my opinion, not over the top) and sprinted across the field, the crowd was already so pumped up that his "honor" didn't even register much with the masses.

Manny in the Monster -- cute, but not epic.

Once the intros were over and the '04 team huddled around the pitcher's mound back-slapping and hugging each other, it was hard to tell exactly who was throwing out the first pitch anyway. With his ridiculous Mohawk haircut, it's a good bet some people didn't recognize that it was Manny tossing the ball.

Besides, there was no way Ramirez was going to top the powerful events that preceded his entry. Huge ovations had gone up several times already during the festivities: 

• When the 2004 World Series championship banner dropped down over the Green Monster, evoking memories of Opening Day in '05; 
• When the Varitek-A-Rod fight was shown on the Jumbotron (immediately after which Tek emerged from underneath the banner); and 
• When other top-tier heroes like Pedro Martinez, Johnny Damon, and Tim Wakefield made their walks in from left field.

THIS was epic.

The loudest cheers by far, however, were when Curt Schilling was introduced and strolled slowly across the grass with the help of his son, Gehrig. Schilling has been mute for months as he has battled a serious bout of cancer, and his appearance Wednesday was up in the air until the last moment. Seeing him there, getting a long hug from David Ortiz as his eyes welled up, was the emotional highlight of the night -- hands down.

I also know from a very reputable source that it was Schilling who was initially asked to throw out the first pitch, but he didn't feel strong enough to do so. Granted, I would have picked Pedro or Keith Foulke as a second choice over Manny, but Dr. Charles Steinberg and the event planning committee can't bat 1.000 every time. They were likely so excited that Ramirez, one half of the greatest one-two power punch since Ruth-Gehrig, was finally coming back to Fenway, they wanted fans to share in that excitement.

In the scrum, the first pitch was confusing.

Plus the way Damon jumped out and "cut off" Ramirez's throw before it could reach home plate, it wasn't really much of a pitch anyway. Damon's move was apparently done to rib Manny about the '04 game when Ramirez cut off a Damon throw that looked capable of nabbing a baserunner at home plate, but I didn't get the joke -- and I'm guessing most other fans had no idea what we going on either.

Manny was definitely not a model citizen or teammate during his time playing in Boston. I'm not going to start listing his mistakes here -- we all remember them. Whether or not the apologies he offered up in press conferences this week were sincere is open to speculation; I guess we'll have to wait and see how he conducts himself moving forward. Maybe he'll finally get over to the Jimmy Fund and visit some kids.

But Wednesday night was not about Manny -- it was about a team. A team that pulled off a Miracle at Fenway and ended 86 years of pain. It was about Jimmy Anderson, Pokey Reese, and every other guy who put on a Boston uniform in 2004. All the talk about whether Ramirez deserved to get the focus he did just takes away from the magic of the night.    

Nothing should do that.

A-Rod back at Fenway Park: Once more with loathing

The Material Boy is back.

Dust off those Madonna masks and get out your biggest syringes, Boston fans, A-Rod is coming to town -- maybe for the last time in pinstripes.

Bucky Bleeping Dent and Aaron Bleeping Boone pierced the hearts of Red Sox Nation with one swing of their bats, but there is no player more universally reviled at Fenway Park than Alex Emmanuel Rodriguez. It isn't just that A-Rod is a steroid guy, or that he lied about it numerous times, or even that he is the lone accused doper trying to fight the MLB over his suspension. It's his total body of smug, selfish play as a Yankee that has kept everyone from bleacherites to box seat gentry on Yawkey Way booing for the past decade.

Nobody jeered the handsome, 18-year-old Mariner who made his big-league debut at Fenway Park against the Vaughn-Valentin-Greenwell Red Sox in July 1994. Reports are that the crowd politely applauded Seattle's number-nine batter when he singled off Boston's Sergio Valdez for his first MLB hit. 

A-Rod and Junior

By his 21st birthday, which he celebrated with a home run while batting in front of Ken Griffey, Jr., Rodriguez was a superstar. Through his years in Seattle and in Texas with the Rangers, he was a feared and respected Boston opponent -- but not a villain.

The hate started in the winter of 2003-04. New York had just done in the Sox during an epic ALCS, and rumors leaked that Boston was going to make a three-way trade with the Angels and Rangers that would send outfielder/slugger Manny Ramriez to Texas and bring reigning MVP Rodriguez here. Since A-Rod was a Gold Glove winner at shortstop, local icon Nomar Garciaparra's position, Nomar would then be traded to the White Sox for All-Star Magglio Ordonez -- who would slip into Manny's old spot in left field. 

Yankees owner George Steinbrenner was steamed that Boston was poised to beat out his team for the game's best player, but he didn't have long to worry. Red Sox boss John Henry wanted to lighten some of Rodriguez's  $252 million contract in $28 million of deferred payments, and although A-Rod's agent Scott Boras initially went along with the plan, he was talked out of it by MLB Player's Association Deputy Director Gen Orza -- and Henry backed out of a less-desirable deferred-payment offer. 

In swooped King George with a trade offer of his own -- Alfonso Soriano and a throw-in for Rodriguez and cash -- and just like that A-Rod was a Yankee.

Smug as a bug in a rug.

Making the move even more excruciating for Boston fans was this: because New York already had an All-Star shortstop in Derek Jeter, and because ALCS hero Boone had blown out his knee playing pick-up basketball in the offseason, Rodriguez simply moved over to third where he would be a constant reminder of the previous year's torment.

Rodriguez was instantly Public Enemy No. 1 at Fenway, and it only got worse when the Sox and Yanks tangled there on July 24. Boston starter Bronson Arroyo hit A-Rod on the elbow with a sinker, and when A-Rod started toward the mound with menacing eyes, he was intercepted by catcher Jason Varitek. The two jawed it out, after which Tek shoved his glove in Rodriguez's face in a moment that would forever signify the start of Boston's late-season push to a World Series title.

Take that, A-Fraud!

Could it get still worse? Sure. 

In Game Six of the Boston-New York ALCS rematch that October, at Yankee Stadium, Arroyo and A-Rod were key figures in another big moment. With Boston leading, 4-2, in the 8th and Jeter on first, Rodriguez hit a dinky grounder to the left of the mound; Arroyo gloved it, went to tag A-Rod running down the line, and suddenly the ball was lose and rolling into right field as Jeter sprinted home.

For a moment, it looked like the beginning of another Boston postseason collapse, but Red Sox Manager Terry Francona came out to protest and slow-motion replays showed what most initially missed -- A-Rod illegally slapping the ball out of Arroyo's glove. Rodriguez (holding his hands up in a "who me?" gesture as he stood defiantly at second base) was declared out on interference, Jeter was put back at first. The Sox went on to win the game and of course the series.

Actually, I find this photo an insult to women.

By the next morning a picture showing the exact moment of the slap, with a purse photo-shopped into A-Rod's hand, was making its way across New England, Rodriguez's fate as Boston's biggest villain was sealed. 

When rumors swirled that the married slugger was dating Madonna in summer 2008, Red Sox fans came to Fenway with Madonna masks; when he admitted in 2009 to doing steroids while with the Rangers due to self-imposed pressure to live up to a $252 million contract, they waved posters declaring him a cheater and a baby.

Now A-Rod is back again, for the first time since Commissioner Bud Selig announced he would be suspended for the remainder of this season and all of 2014 for further violations of the steroid policy. He's playing while appealing the commissioner's decision, but many speculate he will soon retire rather than accept his fate.

Yanks fans may soon get their wish.

I have always taught my kids not to boo any player on the Red Sox or other teams. I've covered enough high school, college, and minor league games to know that every guy out on that field is one of the best in the world, and deserves your respect. This especially goes for class acts like Jeter and Mariano Rivera.

There is, however, one exception to my rule. We won't be at any of the games this weekend, but my kids can boo as loud as they want at the radio or TV when A-Fraud steps to the plate.

Sox in Six: Most Electric Red Sox Pitchers of Last 50 Years

Buchholz's record is still unblemished.

In leading the Red Sox to victory in Chicago during the final game of a nine-game road trip last night, Clay Buchholz ran his early-season record to 7-0. 

Buchholz's white-hot start, which includes a 1.73 ERA and 73 strikeouts in 72.2 innings, is one of the best in franchise history. It also has Red Sox fans wondering -- is the wiry right-hander ready to join the list of elite pitchers in Red Sox annals?

These are the guys who didn't just win big games, but had the ballpark buzzing before they even walked in from the bullpen. 

Today's Sox in Six focuses on the most electric Red Sox pitchers of the past half-century:


Dick Radatz

Mickey Mantle gave Radatz his nickname -- "the Monster" -- after striking out for what seemed like the 100th straight time against the big right-hander. 

Actually, Mickey whiffed 44 times in 63 at-bats against Radatz, but you get the idea. Listed at 6-foot-6 and 250 pounds (and likely larger), Radatz was a menacing figure on the mound, and he had the stuff to back up the big shadow he cast.

As a reliever with the Red Sox in the 1960s, Radatz was so overpowering that he drew standing ovations each time he came in from the Fenway bullpen. No matter what the score, fans would wait around to see if the Monster would make an appearance.

The Sox of this era were awful, but Radatz was still one of the best pitchers in baseball -- going 40-21 with 78 saves from 1962-64 with a 2.17 ERA and 487 strikeouts in 414 innings. In the era before closers and set-up men, he'd often pitch two or three innings for several nights in a row. 

The Monster flamed out before Yaz and the Impossible Dream team of 1967 revived Boston baseball. It's hard to imagine how good this guy could have been on a decent team.

Luis Tiant

Tiant was the David Ortiz of the 1970s Red Sox, a big-hearted jokster who was a clubhouse leader and a cold-hearted killer in the clutch. 

The Cuban righty with the crazy wind-up and a seemingly endless array of arm angles and deliveries won 20 games three times between 1973-76, and nearly pitched Boston to a title in the '75 World Series with two complete-game victories (plus seven more gritty innings) against the mighty Cincinnati Reds.

Posessing a Fu Manchu mustache and a visible passion for the game, "El Tiante" was a Fenway favorite who elicited loud cries of "LOOOOOOUIE!" from his adoring fans. Despite having lost his best fastball by his mid-30s he could still out-think the opposition and occasionally blow batters away.

Down the stretch of a season there was no one better -- as evidenced by Tiant's stellar .675 winning percentage in September/October. When Boston ownership let Louie walk after the '78 season, team captain Carl Yastrzemski lamented the loss of "our heart and soul."


Roger Clemens

Long before anybody was talking about steroids, Clemens was the heir to fellow Texan Nolan Ryan as the best power pitcher in the game.

"The Rocket" emerged from injuries early in his career to have one of the best seasons any pitcher could hope for in 1986 -- going 24-4 with a 2.48 ERA and 238 strikeouts (including a 9-inning record of 20 on April 29). Like Tiant, he nearly led Boston to a title before the nightmare at Shea Stadium that October. 

The "K" cards flew often at Fenway during Clemens' heyday, as he averaged 239 strikeouts between 1986-92 while going 136-63 with a 2.66 ERA and notching three Cy Young Awards (as well as the '86 MVP). When the Red Sox struggled with an anemic offense in the early '90s, the Rocket often carried the club on his broad shoulders but also lost plenty of low-scoring games.

His Boston years ended ugly, with a drop-off in performance and conditioning that GM Dan Duquette saw as the beginning of his end, and the doping revelations of recent years have perhaps forever tainted Clemens' image. At his youthful peak, however, there was no one better.


Pedro Martinez

Starts by Martinez at Fenway were more than just ballgames -- they were happenings. 

Saluted with thunderous ovations and the waving of countless Dominican flags, Pedro was slight in stature at 5-foot-11, 170 pounds but a giant on the mound. Like perhaps no pitcher since Sandy Koufax, he dominated hitters to the point where it almost didn't seem fair. 

Whether in a pennant race (17 strikeouts at Yankee Stadium in September 1999) or an exhibition (whiffs of five elite NL batters in the '99 All-Star Game), "The Dominican Dandy" delivered a great show. Just as Babe Ruth once out-homered entire teams, Pedro made a mockery of the ERA race by dwarfing all other pitchers in runs allowed (including a 1.74 to 3.70 edge over runner-up Roger Clemens in 2000).

Martinez's '99 season (23-4 with a 2.07 ERA and 313 strikeouts in 213 innings) was his coronation as the game's greatest hurler, and although injuries and careful managers kept his innings down in later years, he was still an elite pitcher on many occasions -- and a key part of the team that finally ended Boston's 86-year World Series title drought in 2004. 


Curt Schilling

Whether or not they liked his right-wing politics, fans loved the right arm of the big-boned pitcher who talked big and then backed it up. 

Brought in to put Boston over the top and finally take down the Yankees, Schilling delivered -- eclipsing Martinez as the staff ace and going 21-6 for the 2004 champs. He was a power pitcher in the Clemens mold, and he shined best on the brightest stage -- going 6-1 in the postseason and helping the Red Sox to titles in '04 and 2007.  

His ALCS and World Series work in 2004 was the stuff of legend, complete with a sutured ankle and bloody socks that earned him hero status throughout New England. Schilling's problems in the business world have largely tainted that image, as have his political slants. But no teammates are giving back their rings.


Jonathan Papelbon

It's been two years since the Red Sox let Papelbon leave as a free agent, and they are still looking to replace their most dominant reliever since Dick Radatz.

When Papelbon entered most games in the ninth inning to the upbeat sounds of The Dropkick Murphys' classic "Shipping Off to Boston," Fenway fans knew in most cases they'd be hearing the victory anthem of "Dirty Water" a few minutes later. The big right-hander with the steely stare had a blazing fastball and tremendous control -- walking just 15 and striking out 88 while recording 37 regular-season saves and the final out of the 2007 World Series.

Second only to Mariano Rivera as an elite American League closer from 2006-09, Papelbon registered an outstanding aggregate 1.74 ERA and at least 35 saves each year. A big ERA jump to 3.90 in 2010 led ownership to assume his best days were behind him, and Papelbon has been proving them wrong ever since.