Some 2004 memories from Kevin Millar -- yours could win you an autographed book

Millar and Manny: so many stories

Have a personal memory -- funny, poignant, sad, or glad -- to share about the 2004 World Series champion Red Sox? It could win you a free autographed copy of Miracle at Fenway, a book filled with reflections from players, front office personnel, and fans about that glorious year and those leading up to it.

Just include your story in the comments portion at the bottom of this entry, along with your name and contact information, and you'll be in the running. I'll announce my favorite tale here on Aug. 16. The winner will get a copy of Miracle at Fenway mailed anywhere in the country, inscribed however he or she wishes. (If, for some reason, you can't post a comment, please email it to me at saulwizz@gmail.com.)

Come up with the winner, and I'll even send a book to the Yankees fan of your choice -- provided I don't have to pledge my allegiance to The Evil Empire.

Here is a book excerpt to get the ball rolling featuring thoughts from Kevin Millar on his and the team's big August turnaround, which came after the three-team trade deadline stunner from GM Theo Epstein in which disgruntled shortstop Nomar Garciaparra was sent to the Cubs and Gold Glovers Orlando Cabrera (who also played short) and Doug Mientkiewicz (a first baseman) came to Boston:

Millar calls Cabrera the key. (Sports Illustrated)

"Sometimes you need a spark," Kevin Millar explains of the trades that saved the 2004 season. "We were just kind of there, just kind of spinning our wheels. It's the same for any sport -- any team. When you're in that kind of funk, you need something to get ahead. You saw that with Mike Trout and the Angels [in 2012] and Yasiel Puig and the Dodgers [in 2013]. That year, with us, it was Orlando Cabrera.

"Theo stood up there and made a bold move and you know what? If it didn't work out, he could have been blackballed for life. That was what made Theo so good; he had the ability to make decisions, and he believed at that point that it was time to move Nomar -- and Orlando Cabrera was an absolutely wonderful asset to this unit that we were trying to put together, and so were Doug Mientkiewicz and [fellow deadline pickup] Dave Roberts."

It wasn't just the newcomers, however. For much of the year the only consistent hitters on the team had been leadoff man Johnny Damon and sluggers Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz. Now it seemed like everybody else was getting hot at once. 

Catcher Jason Varitek, at a time in the season when most receivers are beginning to wear down, hit an incredible .444 in August with nine doubles, five homers, 20 RBI, and an OPS of 1.339. Third baseman Bill Mueller, who had struggled through knee problems to a .257 average just one year after capturing the AL batting title, opted for July surgery and returned with a vengeance -- hitting .380 in August with numerous clutch hits. Cabrera, the man brought to town for his glove, was contributing a steady stream of doubles to the cause as well.

Varitek got hot at the right time.

Then there was Millar, the clubhouse character who in the past two years had helped as much as anyone to create an atmosphere where winning, friendship, and fun could all coexist. He had proven to be an overachiever at the plate with 25 homers and nearly 100 RBI in 2003 before falling back to earth for much of this campaign, and was scuffling along at .269 with very little production when a single impulsive move turned it all around.

"We were in Seattle for a game, watching the Mariners take batting practice," Millar recalls. "Their catcher Miguel Olivo [a .235 hitter] is just raking it, blasting bomb after bomb. He has an open stance, and I've never hit open in my life. So I came back to Fenway for the next series and figure I'm going to hit open like Miguel Olivo. I go deep with three hits, no joke, and then the Yankees come to town and I hit four home runs in a three-game series. It was all because of Miguel Olivo -- no hitting coach or nothing else."

Millar pauses and laughs, putting his story into perspective. "In this game, that's what drives me crazy. People don't adjust. When things aren't going right, you've just got to try something crazy, you know? I hit that way the rest of the year, and it absolutely turned my career around."

The hot streak, which raised Millar's average above .300 by mid-August, was indicative of the transformation overcoming the 2004 Red Sox. Free from the tension that hung over the clubhouse during the long months of the Nomar Watch, Boston players were enjoying themselves again.  

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Now it's your turn! Share your 2004 Red Sox story in the comments section below and win a chance to relive that year through the pages of Miracle at Fenway.

"Miracle at Fenway" excerpt: Fenway Fights and Flights

(Jim Rogash/Getty Images)

My latest book, "Miracle at Fenway: The Inside Story of the Boston Red Sox 2004 Championship Season" is now available nationwide. This excerpt details the backstory behind one of the biggest turning points of the '04 regular season.

It had rained all night and into the morning, leaving the Fenway Park outfield so damp that even an umpire who really was blind would have been tempted to call the game on account of squishiness.

This, however, wasn't just any game.

The Red Sox had fallen to the Yankees, 8-7, the night before. All losses to New York were tough, but this one really hurt, with ace Curt Schilling inexplicably blowing an early 4-1 lead and normally reliable Keith Foulke coughing up the winning run in the ninth on an Alex Rodriguez RBI single. Boston had gone 1-for-11 with runners in scoring position, and a three-homer game by Kevin Millar had been wasted. Worst of all, the Sox were now a season-high nine and a half games behind Joe Torre's pinstriped crew.

With the other three AL East teams all under .500, it was looking more and more likely that the Sox would finish second to the Yanks for a seventh straight excruciating year. Even with a division title all but an impossibility, Boston still needed every win it could get in a supertight Wild Card race – and every opportunity  to gain confidence against New York in anticipation of a possible postseason encounter. After winning six of seven April games against their rivals, the Sox had lost three straight at the Stadium a few weeks before, including the “Nomar-Jeter” game when Garciaparra sat out with a lingering knee injury and watched his Yankeecounterpart wrap himself in bloody glory. Last night made it four straight losses to the Evil Empire.

Jeter goes all out. (Newsday)

It wasn't just the Red Sox who had a big stake in this game, however. FOX had it scheduled as a nationally-telecast, marquee matchup – with a 3:15 Saturday afternoon starting time. Boston-New York games always got strong ratings, and this year they had been through the roof both locally on NESN and nationally on FOX and ESPN. The intensity and intrigue established during the previous year's playoffs and built up during the winter-long A-Rod saga made for must-see TV. Sox-Yanks was like a soap opera and reality show rolled into one.     

Those affiliated with the Democratic National Convention, scheduled to get under way a few days later at Boston's FleetCenter, were also eager to see the game go off as planned. Everybody from delegates to corporate sponsors to fund-raising groups to politicians themselves had been seeking out tickets to the Sox-Yanks contests, along with trying to nab access to other Fenway specialties like batting practice, private tours, or reserved space in one of the ballpark's function rooms overlooking the field, which would remain open once the team headed out on the road after Sunday's series finale.

Nothing, however, trumped player safety. A group including managers Francona and Torre, Red Sox chief operating officer Mike Dee, and Fenway groundskeeper Dave Mellor all walked the field, and after feeling the soft, squishy grass and viewing the wide assortment of puddles, decided that the game should be canceled.

Out on Yawkey Way, Sox VP and event maestro Dr. Charles Steinberg was biting into a Rem-Dog from Jerry Remy's, waiting for the gates to open and the crowds to come pouring in, when his cell phone rang. It was Mike Dee.

Dr. Charles recalls it all. (Boston Globe)

“Hey, chief, where are you?'” asked Dee (he called everybody chief).

On Yawkey Way.”

“Listen, you've got to get an announcement out – we're banging the game.”

"Banging? What does that mean?"

"We're postponing the game."

“I was suspicious,” explains Steinberg of what he was hearing. “It's not raining.  It's gray and it's raw with billowy clouds and yes, it rained overnight, but, man, you've got 30,000 people pouring in to eat hot dogs and drink and hang out for two hours before the game is even scheduled to start.“

So I said, "Why?"

"The field took a real beating last night, and they're not going to be able to play."    

"Where are you?"

"I'm in Tito's office."

"I'll meet you there."

As Steinberg rushed across the street into Fenway and down toward the manager's office, he made calls to three more ballpark insiders: public relations director Glenn Geffner in the press box, talking through a press release and passing on the edict to “not release it until I tell  you”; to video/scoreboard production manager Danny Kischel in the control room, giving him a public address announcement and a similar request to "not read it until I tell you"; and to the scoreboard operator, with an announcement to "not show anyone until I tell you."

“All three systems were ready to go as soon as we called them back and said, 'Yes, go ahead.  Postpone this game,'” recalls Steinberg. “We didn't know if there could be a doubleheader the next day, because the teams already had the ESPN Sunday night game scheduled.”

Francona needed convincing.

Something felt strange to Steinberg. When he got to Francona's tiny corner office in the bowels of the ballpark, he found  Dee, Tito, Mellor, Larry Lucchino, Theo Epstein, and special assistant Jonathan Gilula, all crowded around Francona's desk.

Someone reiterated what Dee had told Steinberg about the field “taking a beating” the previous night, and Steinberg asked outright if a cancellation was absolutely necessary.

“I was worried that there was something dangerous going on,” says Steinberg, looking back. “We're not that far removed from 9/11, we've got the Democratic National Convention coming up, so I asked, 'Is there more to the story than you're telling me?'" Someone, maybe Larry, said, 'No, this is baseball driven all the way.'"

Realizing the kinds of questions they would be getting from writers as the ballpark filled up and the skies cleared, Steinberg continued pressing for more details he could pass on.

“Look, it's our [cancellation] call to make, not the umpires, if the game hasn't started yet,” Lucchino said. "But Tito, go out with Joe Torre and the umpires and Dave Mellor and see if they also see what we see. It's our call, and they don't need to agree, but see if they all understand.”

Lucchino's thinking was that if they could get more buy-in from some other key folks – Torre, the umpires – it would be easier to justify their decision to cancel such an important game when the writers started asking.

(New York Times)

“So out to shallow left field walked that group, Terry Francona and Joe Torre and the four umpires and Dave Mellor,” says Steinberg. “Mike Dee and I trailed behind, walking along the warning track.  And humorously, they were stomping on the outfield grass in a way that splashed and elicited water reminiscent of Lucy [Ball] stomping on the grapes [on a classic I love Lucy episode]. This made it clear to everyone what we were dealing with here.”

Francona came back to where Dee and Steinberg were standing. He explained that Torre had acknowledged that it was the Red Sox' call to make, and that they could do so whenever they wanted. The understanding was that the game would be canceled, so Torre was now presumably telling this to his team in the visitor's clubhouse.

“As we were walking, Mike Dee took a call in his ear, and Tito and I heard half of the conversation,” recalls Steinberg.

"Hey, chief, what? 

“We're walking on the warning track.”

“How many guys? A mutiny?  Where?”

“All right, we're on our way there. "

Then Dee turned to Francona.

“That was Jonathan Gilula, Tito. He says a bunch of players are in your office, threatening a mutiny if we don't play this game.”

Without skipping a beat, Francona replied, "Well, it's the first sign of life I've seen from them in weeks.”

The trio returned to Francona's office, where the same people from before were now reassembled and joined by four more: Jason Varitek, Johnny Damon, Pedro Martinez, and Kevin Millar. All were in uniform except Varitek, who had on a red T-shirt and a stern look. Steinberg doesn't recall whether it was Francona or someone else who started talking with Varitek, but he still remembers the words.

“We wanna play,” said Varitek.

"Guys, I know that, but the field took a real beating last night."

"We wanna play."

"Right, I understand that, but it would take a super-human effort to get the field ready."

"Then do a super-blanking-human effort, we wanna play. "

Tek wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Yeah, we wanna play, yeah!” That was Millar.

"Yeah, we're not afraid of these guys, I'll come in from the bullpen if I have to!” That was Pedro.

“Then we heard this thunderous thud of a door closing,” says Steinberg. “There in the doorway is David Ortiz. 'What's going on?' he bellows. Somebody, I don't know if it was Millar or Varitek, tells him, 'They don't want us to play,' to which Papi says something like 'We want their asses! We want these guys! We want to play!'”

Millar says that at the time, the players in Francona's office thought that “the people upstairs” were behind the possible cancellation because they didn't like the pitching matchup: 3-7 Bronson Arroyo of the Red Sox against New York's Tanyon Sturtze (3-2), who had won the Nomar-Jeter game back on July 1 in relief. Boston players, however, wanted their crack at Sturtze, who came in sporting a 5.05 ERA.

"At that point, it’s almost like the movie Rudy,” says Millar. “We took our jerseys off and said “We’re playing.” Bronson Arroyo was probably the most underrated guy on that team, and we just wanted to get out there and do it.”

It was now 2 p.m., and it was clear the players were not going to back down. Lucchino instructed Mellor to work on the field for an hour and see what progress he could make; if he was making progress, then the team would consider delaying but not postponing the game. If it looked hopeless, they would cancel.

“So we start to disperse, and then poor Tito's phone rings,” says Steinberg. “It's Joe Torre, and I get to hear another one-sided conversation.”

"Yeah, I know.  I know.”

“I know I told you that.”

“No, we're going to try to play.”

"Joe, we all have bosses." That was Lucchino, chiming in.

Torre was not happy.

Mellor and his crew went to work on the field. After an hour they had indeed made progress, so they kept going and the crowd was told the starting time was being delayed an hour until 4:20.

Veteran cameraman Kevin Vahey was working the game for FOX. “The truck had told us the game was called, and then five minutes later they called back and said, 'Wait a minute, don’t take anything down yet!' Vahey explains. “I actually heard that someone at the FOX network office called [baseball commissioner Bud] Selig and said, 'The Red Sox can’t call this game, the weather is going to clear and all our people are there.'”

The subplot to all this is that while the field was being cleaned up, it was also being set up with a stage and equipment for a short pregame concert. The Dropkick Murphys, the Boston-based Irish rock band whose trademark song, “Tessie,” had become a hit at Fenway when it was played over the loudspeakers after Red Sox home wins, was planning to perform the piece live at the ballpark for the first time.

“Tessie” had originally been written at the turn of the 20^th century for a Broadway musical, and was a favorite of the first Red Sox fan club known as the Royal Rooters. The Rooters changed the words to make fun of the Pittsburgh Pirates, and heckled them with the song all through the 1903 World Series. Pirates players placed some of the blame for their series loss to the Sox (then the Boston Americans) on “Tessie,” and the song became an official battle cry for the renamed Red Sox through four more World Series titles in 1912, 1915, 1916, and 1918.

Magic Music (Library of Congress)

Then the Sox sold Babe Ruth, fell into the American League basement, and the Rooters disbanded. “Tessie” was played only occasionally at Fenway during the '20s, and never after 1930. The story of the song and its connection to the team might have ended there, were it not for the curiosity of Steinberg. Ever a student of history, he kept reading in books on the Red Sox about the magic of this song he had never heard. In October 2003, with Boston and the Yankees squaring off in the ALCS, he found a scratchy audio recording of “Tessie” from 1903 online. If the Sox beat New York, he planned to clean up and play it during the World Series  – 100 years after its first use as a talisman for victory. Perhaps it could be a good-luck charm once again.

That didn't happen, of course, but over the winter a new plan emerged. Epstein, the general manager/guitarist, was holding his annual “Hot Stove, Cool Music” fund-raiser at which local bands performed as a sort of pre-spring training celebration. Would-be rock stars from the baseball world like Epstein, ESPN analyst Peter Gammons (also a guitarist), and even ballplayers with musical talent like Arroyo joined in on the fun. Held in one of the bars across the street from Fenway, it was becoming a widely popular show that resulted in a CD that raised even more for charity.

At the January 2004 event, Boston Herald sportswriter Jeff Horrigan suggested that Steinberg talk to frontman Ken Casey of the Dropkick Murphys about redoing “Tessie” for a modern audience. Casey went for the idea, Horrigan helped rewrite the lyrics to make them relevant to the '04 Sox, and the Dropkicks recorded it with Arroyo and Damon singing backup vocals. The revamped “Tessie” had been playing at Fenway all summer.

But never live. Until the game the players saved, and history recorded.

Setting the tone. (Dropkickmurphys.com)

First the Dropkicks did their thing, banging out their hit at full throttle from center field while young Red Sox employee Colleen Riley, dressed as “Tessie,” danced onstage. Steinberg, watching the whole thing from the Red Sox dugout, looked over at Arroyo and thought how cool it was that the young pitcher, who had helped with the recording, was now getting the chance to see its live debut.

“Who's going for us today?,” Steinberg asked, and Arroyo replied by giving him a crooked little smile. Realizing that he had been so consumed by everything going on that he had forgotten, Steinberg laughed and said, “Of course, it's you!”

Arroyo got the start (Matthew Lee/Boston Globe)

Once the game finally started, before a full house loaded up on emotion, beers, and the 54-minute delay, the Yankees sought to make all the lobbying efforts and lucky songs inconsequential. They had jumped out to a 3-0 lead by the third inning, helped in part by a Millar error at first base, when Rodriguez stepped in against Arroyo. Few in the ballpark knew it, but this pair had first faced each other as high school players in southern Florida. Rodriguez, pumped about his game-winning hit the night before, crouched over the plate – leaving him little time to escape an Arroyo sinker pitch that got away and hit him near the left elbow. A-Rod stepped out of the box, leered out at his adversary as he took afew steps toward the mound, and started shouting at Arroyo.

In looking back at the incident, Arroyo said he never meant to hit Rodriguez, but did want to pitch him inside due to the results of their last face-off. Back in April, at Yankee Stadium, A-Rod had hit an outside pitch from Arroyo about 500 feet for a mammoth home run, but it had been quickly forgotten in the aftermath of Boston's 3-2, 13-inning win and subsequent three-game sweep

Exactly who said what during this latest encounter varies depending on the source. In watching the replay, and talking to several folks near the incident, it appeared to go something like this:

A-Rod spun around after being hit, dropped his bat, and as he walked toward first yelled at Arroyo that he should “throw the f--king ball over the plate.” Varitek stepped over and in front of A-Rod to keep him from doing anything physical to Arroyo, telling him to “just take your base.” The two quickly exchanged “f--k yous,” and then A-Rod bumped Tek and motioned with his finger – the universal language for “You want a piece of me? Come and get me!”

Tek did just that, shoving his glove into A-Rod's face and then grabbing him as both benches emptied. At first players sprinted over to break up the fight, but within a few seconds they had also started some new ones along the first base line in front of the Red Sox dugout. The biggest subplot was when Sturtze, who had grown up a Red Sox fan in Worcester, made the poor decision of grabbing Kapler from behind. The strongest guy on the team, Big Gabe soon had his attacker on the ground with an unnecessary (but appreciated) assist from teammates Ortiz and Nixon.

All hell breaks loose. 

“I think the first-base dugout had the best angle, but from center field [where he had his camera] you could tell something was happening,” says Vahey. “Whether or not Varitek said, “We don’t throw at .260 hitters!' I don’t know." 

Down in Florida, Joe and Donna Varitek were watching the Red Sox at home like they always did. When they saw their son and A-Rod starting to go at it, they were not surprised. “He was doing his job, protecting his pitcher,” reflects Donna Varitek today, the exact same response that Jason had given in interviews right after the incident. Joe remembers being afraid that using Jason's old football instincts might backfire on him. “I got a little worried after the push incident; Jason went into his driving tackle thing and drove A-Rod to the ground. He could have really hurt himself.”

Another guy who almost got hurt wasn't even on the field.

A close call for Pesky. (CBS Boston)

“That was the day I thought I killed Johnny Pesky,” says closer Keith Foulke with a nervous laugh, speaking of the 85-year-old former Red Sox shortstop, coach, and manager who was still with the team that summer as a sort of legend-in-residence. “It was the fourth inning, so I was in the clubhouse, dressed and ready to go out to the bullpen. I’m sitting there watching it on TV, and you kind of see it [the fight] starting to go. When Jason stood up, and they started jawing at each other, I took off my pullover, headed for the door, and was just about to turn and run down the stairs [to the dugout and field] when I ran into Johnny. He fell back, and I caught him.”

Another not-quite-so-old-timer was taking in one of the more unique views of the action in a suite high above the Red Sox dugout. Boston Herald columnist Steve Buckley was interviewing former All-Star outfielder Fred Lynn for a book he was writing entitled Red Sox: Where Have You Gone?, and at the precise moment Lynn was describing for Buckley a three-homer game he had in Detroit as a rookie back in 1975, Arroyo hit Rodriguez – and sent Lynn, who had done some TV work since his retirement, into play-by-play mode. Lynn had been part of some pretty good Red Sox-Yankees fights himself back in the '70s, and this melee seemed to take him back.

“If you listen to the tape, it's really funny,” says Buckley. “One minute he's telling me about his big day in Detroit, and then he suddenly gets real intense and starts in like, 'Oh boy, he looks pissed! It looks like they're going to go! They're going to go!'”

Lynn: a bird's eye view. (Answers.com)

By the time everyone on the field had been separated, New York starter Sturtze was bleeding from his left ear, the result of his one-on-three tussle; Rodriguez, Varitek, Kapler, and New York outfielder Kenny Lofton had all been ejected; and the Red Sox had a new infusion of energy to ride out the season.

“It was one of those brawls where you get to see what kind of people your teammates are,” Damon said later. “In our case, we got to see great things – great camaraderie, great togetherness.”

This first manifest itself in the late stages of that afternoon's game. The Red Sox were down 3-0, up 4-3, down 9-4 (after a six-run Yankee sixth and another ejection, this time Francona), down 9-8 (after getting four back in the bottom of the sixth), and down 10-8 heading into the last of the ninth. Rivera was on to pitch for New York, which with a two-run lead was money in the bank.

Not this time. Garciaparra – who, unbeknownst to most, had been talking money that very morning – led off the frame with a double. He went to third on a deep fly to right by Nixon, and then scored when Millar (4-for-5 on the day) lined a single to center. Bill Mueller was up next, and after working Rivera to a 3-and-1 count, he struck a shot into the Red Sox bullpen to cap the three-hour, 54-minute marathon and an 11-10 Boston win.The entire team greeted Mueller at home plate; and Francona quickly realized he needed to pay extra-close attention to where (and near whom) he was celebrating. In rushing out from the clubhouse (where he had been banished by the umpires), the manager had forgotten to put on his shoes.

Mueller ended what Tek had started.

Afterwards, Francona and Epstein both had a sense of just how important the moment had been.

"It's a huge win for us, and will be bigger if we make it bigger,” Francona said. “If we have this catapult us and we do something with, that's what will really make it big.”

Added Epstein: “If we go on to play like this, this will go down as one of the most important victories we had. Today was not about stats or box scores, it was about emotions.”

The normally stoic Varitek chided himself for not keeping his own emotions under control with regards to A-Rod, and in the months and years to come would refuse to autograph any of the countless photos depicting the day's iconic moment – he and Rodriguez, face-to-glove-in-face – that would wind up on the walls of rec rooms and bars across New England.

When Charles Steinberg approached Tek in the clubhouse and told him “You won us the game today,” the catcher vehemently denied it. “He thought I meant the fight, but I didn't,” explains Steinberg. “I told him 'That game was postponed until you said your words.'” 

What did  A-Rod think of all this? "I think it's going to take this rivalry to a new level,” Rodriguez said. “The intensity is something I've never really seen before."

Although it was only July, it was indeed beginning to feel like the postseason around Fenway Park. The Red Sox won the Sunday night game against New York as well, 9-6, but the true impact of “The Fight” could not be focused on right away because another significant event was looming less than a week away: the July 31 trade deadline. ■

Can Jacoby, Tar-Gate jump-start Red Sox-Yankees rivalry?

A new villain is born.

Watching Yankees pitcher Michael Pineda get ejected from Wednesday night's game for turning his neck into a one-stop lube shop, and fans continue their series-long booing of turncoat Jacoby Ellsbury -- a tactic that didn't slow the red-hot hitter one bit -- almost made it feel like the good old days at Fenway Park.

Old, as in 2003-2006.

Back then, the rivalry between the Sox and Yanks was at its Athens-Sparta heights. In addition to some epic regular season and ALCS battles, there were specific incidents and individuals that further electrified the match-ups and heightened the hatred for Boston fans. Among them:

The turning point.

The A-Rod-Varitek fight on July 24, 2004, spurred on when Alex Rodriguez didn't take kindly to Bronson Arroyo pitching too close to his pretty face, and got a face-full of Jason Varitek's mitt for mouthing off. After Tek's smack-down the Sox went 46-20 (.697) the rest of the regular season to make the playoffs. 

The A-Rod-Arroyo interference incident in Game 6 of the '04 ALCS, when Rodriguez visibly smacked a ball out of the pitcher's hand while running down the first-base line -- costing his team a late-game rally and launching a thousand photo-shopped pictures in which a purse was hung on his arm. We all know how that series turned out.

Ah yes, the good old days.

Johnny Damon's defection to New York after 2005, in which Jesus became Judas and eventually helped the Yanks to another title. On the positive side for Boston, this did provide a home for young Ellsbury in center field.

The ninth-inning showdowns between the Sox and legendary Yankees closer Mariano Rivera, which on a few memorable occasions went Boston's way.

And, of course, other familiar foes like Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Jorge Posada, Hideki Matsui, Mike Mussina, and Jason Giambi. Some were easier to boo than others, but you never needed a scorecard to know most of the New York roster. Class or no class, they were a known enemy.

Now, with A-Rod on the suspended list, only Jeter remains in pinstripes from those glory days. The lineup New York used to wipe out the Red Sox 14-5 last night included the likes of Yangervis Solarte, Carlos Beltran, and Brian McCann, all newcomers to the rivalry. Jeter and Ellsbury, of course, were atop the order combining for 5 hits and 5 RBI.

And then there was one.

Pineda picked up a 10-game suspension for his Wednesday-night antics, but he'll surely be back in the rotation when the Sox and Yanks next meet in late June. 

Will the energy that ran through Fenway last night when he got tossed carry over into that game? 

Will New York follow suit and have Boston pitchers inspected for pine tar? 

Will the Sox use the embarrassment of last night's 5-error, 4-hit, Mike Carp-pitching fiasco to spur them on to a hot streak, as they did after the Varitek-A-Rod fight in 2004?

If Sox fans want any chance of seeing their team back in the postseason, they had better hope the last comes true. It's still early enough to turn this season around, but Boston does not have the superstars necessary to dig themselves out of too big a hole.

Could Varitek catch on as coach under Farrell?

Farrell (left) and Varitek try to talk some sense into John Smoltz

The rumors are already circulating on Red Sox.com and elsewhere that Torey Lovullo will be  joining new Red Sox manager John Farrell’s staff as bench coach. Since Lovullo served as  Farrell’s first base coach in Toronto and is also familiar with the Red Sox organization – having  managed at Triple-A Pawtucket in 2010 – this seems a logical choice.

But there is another guy with whom Farrell enjoyed a strong relationship during his four years as 

Boston’s pitching coach, another guy who possess the high baseball IQ that Farrell is surely 

looking for in his lieutenants:

Jason Varitek.

Sure, Tek already has a new job as a special assistant to Red Sox general manager Ben 

Cherington, but does anybody know exactly what that means? There were two vice 

president/assistant GMs listed in this year's Boston media guide, so conceivably Varitek would 

be under them. Many fans and media types believe this George Constanza-like position is 

merely a place-holder until the man who caught nearly 1,500 games in Boston eventually gets 

back into the dugout as a coach or manager.

Even if Luvollo gets the bench coach job, it's easy to imagine Varitek fitting into another slot on 

Farrell's staff. He was known for his meticulous game-day preparation as a catcher, and  nobody this side of Ted Williams could better analyze a hitter's tendencies. Boston pitchers 

(and no doubt Farrell) loved how Varitek got them ready for a contest.

Tek puts a young Justin Masterson at ease.

Many believe Tek's retirement before last season is largely to blame for the total collapse of the 

Red Sox pitching staff in 2012. Boston's team ERA ballooned from 4.20 in 2011 to 4.72 last year, 12^th in the AL. During Varitek's last year catching at least 110 games, in 2008, the club  figure was a much more respectable 4.01, and it was 3.87 – first in the major leagues -- in '07.

Varitek could also hit a little himself, accumulating 306 doubles and 193 homers during his 15-

year career, so it's not inconceivable to see him as either a hitting or a pitching coach. If the 

latter seems a strange fit, don't forget about Dave Duncan – a former catcher who has spent 

some 25 years as a MLB pitching coach and has helped both the Cardinals and A's to World 

Series titles.

In the weeks leading up to Bobby Valentine's inevitable firing at the end of the 2012 campaign, 

there was much speculation about whether Varitek would be a good fit as the next Rex Sox 

manager. Cherington put this rumor to rest quickly, which was likely a good thing. Even if Tek 

did want the job, it would have been tough for him to come in with no experience and try to 

discipline guys he had played with just two years before.

Coaching is another story; you're an instructor rather than the big boss, and it's not vital that you 

be a hard-ass. Knowledge of the game and a desire to work hard are the two keys to success 

in the coaching ranks, and Varitek possesses both. He's also a link to the glory years of 2004 

and 2007, good karma which the team can surely need.

Varitek did take some heat for being captain of a club that collapsed epically in the 7-20, 

chicken-and-beer fiasco of last September, but the team was even more rudderless without 

him this year, going 69-93 for Boston's worst record since Varitek 1965 – seven years before Vartek was born.

Coming soon to a dugout near you?

Catchers have long been considered the smartest men on the field, and it's no coincidence that 

this year's four League Championship Series managers – Mike Matheny, Joe Girardi, Jim 

Leyland, and Bruce Bochy all spent their playing careers behind the plate. If he's interested, 

Varitek could likely match wits with any of them.

All he needs is a shot.

Saltalamacchia hitting at a record-setting pace for Red Sox

Salty had the fans happy for a while Tuesday night.

Fresh of his latest home run – a two-out, two-strike, two-run bomb in the ninth inning Tuesday night to temporarily tile up the Red Sox-Orioles game at Fenway Park – it seems a good time to closely examine Jarrod Saltalamacchia’s offensive output.

The homer was Saltalamacchia’s 11^th of the season, a total that leads all ML catchers and puts him two behind David Ortiz for the club lead. Overall, just 11 American Leaguers have hit more home runs than Salty.

His slugging is impressive on any level, but for a Red Sox catcher, it’s off the charts. No Boston catcher has ever hit 30 home runs, and Saltalamacchia is currently on a 30-homer pace.

In fact, only three receivers have even hit as many as 20 homers in a year for Boston – Carlton Fisk (who did it four times), Jason Varitek (three times), and Rich Gedman (once). All were All-Stars, and Fisk also has a Hall of Fame plaque and retired number at Fenway on his resume.

Things are looking up for Boston's starting catcher.

Unless Salty falls into an epic slump, he seems certain to join this trio. He’s already nearly halfway to Fisk’s all-time team mark of 26 homers by a catcher (set in 1973 and matched in ’77).

While it’s true that catchers tend to slide offensively later in the season due to the rigors of their job, Saltalamacchia actually hit more home runs (10) in the second half of last season than in the first. He also has the benefit of a very solid backup in Kelly Shoppach, who hit 21 homers for Cleveland in 2008. If Salty slumps, Shoppach can step in.

There was some grumbling when the Red Sox let All-Star catcher Victor Martinez leave as a free agent after the 2010 season and then coaxed Jason Varitek into retirement this winter. Fans were not sure a commitment to Saltalamacchia – who had never played in more than 100 games in a season, or hit more than 11 homers – was a wise move.

Salty, however, has quieted many of the naysayers.

He had a solid 16 homers, 56 RBI, and 23 doubles in 103 games last season, and is poised to top all those totals this year (he currently has 11 doubles and 27 RBI). He’s also raised his average from the .230 territory up to .278 through last night. His defense has improved tremendously.

An All-Star in 2012? It could happen.

“He’s turned a big corner,” Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine said this week, as reported on ESPN Boston.com “I’ve seen a player turn into an All-Star – an absolute player who you can count on, who’s got it. He understands what’s needed of him and he’s delivering it.”

Having just turned 27, an age when many players hit their prime, Saltalamacchia projects to be Boston’s starting catcher for the foreseeable future.

Could fight with Rays ignite the Red Sox?

Their team was down 7-4, but Red Sox fans who stuck around for the end of Friday's game against the Rays at Fenway Park had to be intrigued by what they saw in the top of the ninth inning.

Carlos Pena (left) and Bob McClure have a chat.

The fight that ignited after Boston pitcher Franklin Morales drilled Tampa Bay's Luke Scott in the leg with a fastball had a lot more energy than your typical baseball fracas. The pushing, shoving, and yelling lasted far longer than normal, and managers and coaches played a prominent role in the scrap.

Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine was in the thick of the action, having to be restrained by several of his players. Usually mild-mannered Boston coaches Tim Bogar and Bob McClure were also among those doing a lot of the screaming, most of it directed at their Tampa Bay counterparts.

The home crowd got to see a strong peace-making presence by David Ortiz, who came under scrutiny for his "I get no respect" comments earlier in the week and looked like a leader during the melee. In a season that has lacked the sense of urgency and commitment fans were hoping to see after last September's Red Sox collapse, this may be just the spark the team needs.

So might Valentine's comments after the game about Scott, who earlier this year was quoted as calling Fenway fans "vulgar" and the 100-year-old ballpark "a dump." 

Luke Scott brings out the best in Red Sox fans.

"Boys will be boys," Valentine said. "It seemed like both teams were on the field. With the guy getting hit? Maybe it was the Ghost of Fenway Past remembering he bad-mouthed all our fans and our stadium, directing the ball at his leg."

t's way too early to know if a fight with one of their AL East rivals will have a positive impact on the underachieving, injury-riddled Red Sox, who fell to 22-23 with the loss and once again failed to get over .500 for the first time this season. But there is an example from the not-so-distant past that suggests it could.

Tek gives A-Rod a mouthful of mitt.

In 2004, the Red Sox were 52-44 (.542) and trailing in the Wild Card race when Boston catcher Jason Varitek and Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez came to blows at Fenway after A-Rod was hit by a pitch. The Sox went 46-20 (.697) the rest of the season, beat New York in the ALCS, and won their first World Series title in 86 years.

There was no "glove in the face" moment in this fight, but Scott, like A-Rod, is a guy Fenway fans (and likely more than a few Boston players) love to hate. Can the Red Sox channel that hatred into a streak similar to 2004?

Fenway's Walk of Life

In the end, I couldn't help but wonder what Johnny Pesky and Bobby Doerr must have been thinking.

As the long line of former Red Sox players strolled across Fenway Park's beautiful green lawn during Friday's 100th birthday celebration, these two ancient legends watched from a pair of chairs set up in front of the Boston dugout.

The decades were passing before them, from the gray-haired guys they had coached and managed in the 1960s and '70s to the athletes of lesser vintage who with their dress slacks, punchy bellies, and throwback uniform jerseys looked more like middle-aged fans out for a day at the ballpark -- right down to the smart phones and cameras they held at arm's length to record the festivities.


For Pesky and Doerr, who suited up for their last games as players in 1954 and '51, respectfully, it had to be a bittersweet moment. They seemed happy to be on hand  as revered members of the small fraternity of living Red Sox with retired numbers (a club of five, all on hand Friday), but as they smiled and offered their thumbs-up to photographers, they might also have felt a wave of sadness. The former double-play duo are both well into their 90s, and it's unclear how many more such ceremonies they'll be able to attend -- especially Doerr, who lives year-round in Oregon.

Their presence was a high point in the ceremony, which clocked in at about 45 minutes. Management had suggested that everybody be seated by 2 p.m. so the festivities could begin, but it was closer to 2:20 before public address announcer Carl Beane greeted me, my brother Adam, and the rest of the overflowing masses with a introduction meant to give the day a "Field of Dreams" feel -- right down to portions of dialogue from that wonderful baseball film.

Beane capped his intro with the classic James Earl Jones line, "Oh yes, they will come. They will most definitely come," but such a flourish wasn't necessary. The imagery of seeing 213 players emerge from the cornfields of Fenway's outfield storage rooms and dugout and striding before us was so powerful it didn't need a script.

We could see the group of former Red Sox milling around in the garage-like space in deepest center during Beane's opening words, so it surprised us when Hall of Famer Jim Rice stepped out of a door in the deepest corner of left field. Rice waved to the crowd as his image and years of service splashed across one of the center field video screens, and then he settled into his old defensive spot in front of the Green Monster. If we stared at his circa-1980s uniform and squinted our eyes just a little, we could imagine that we were all young again.

By now the "Field of Dreams" soundtrack was playing, but it was quickly drowned out by shouts of "DEWWWWWWWY!" when Dwight Evans emerged from the door besides Rice and strode across to the right-field spot where he dazzled for close to 20 years. The third player called out had a much shorter walk, but there was still time for Bill Buckner to get a huge yell as he popped out of the Boston dugout and out to first base.

Huge ovations have been the Fenway norm for Buckner in recent years, helped by an entire generation of young fans who were not traumatized by the events of 1986. Having Billy Buck appear so early on the list was a deserving honor for a great ballplayer who endured far more torment than he deserved. This day held no grudges.

Most of the remaining players emerged in a long line from the big garage door in center, and then crossed the outfield to their proper positions. They were coming too fast for Beane to announce their names, so we had to match the head shots of the strong young athletes appearing on the video screen with the aging gentlemen waving to us below them. It was a little like the scene at the 1999 All-Star Game when that year's stars shared space around the diamond with the MLB's All-Century Team, but this time everybody on the field was dressed in home whites.

Although some of the players seemed grouped together -- several members of the great '67 and '04 teams, for instance, were called in a row -- most emerged in no particular order. From Don Aase to Bob Zupcic, they filed forth like 200-odd trivia questions:

Q: Who was the rookie starter that manager Don Zimmer claimed had "ice water in his veins" before he was shelled by the Yankees in the first inning of the final game of the "Boston Massacre" sweep in 1978? (A: Bobby Sprowl)

Q: Who hit the game-tying, pinch-homer in Game 6 of the '75 World Series, paving the way for Carlton Fisk's famous game-winner? (A: Bernie Carbo).

Q: Which pitcher's near no-hitter at Yankee Stadium in his first MLstart April 1967 launched the Impossible Dream? (A: Billy Rohr).

Q: Who lost Game 1 of the '67 World Series 2-1 to Bob Gibson, despite homering to help his own cause? (A: Jose Santiago).

A few of the more famous gentlemen drew huge applause. There was Pumpsie Green, the first African-American player in Red Sox history; Pedro Martinez, the ace-in-residence from 1998-2004 who danced across the field with a quickness that had us wondering if he might be able to throw a few innings that afternoon; Fisk, the great, gritty catcher who supplied Fenway's most memorable pre-2004 hit; and Nomar Garciaparra, the super shortstop who seemed destined for Cooperstown before injuries and impasses with management prompted his trade midway through the curse-busting summer of '04.

One curiosity: Little World Series trophies were displayed on the screen alongside the years of service for every member of the 2004 and '07 champions, except Nomar. Was this a little dig from management, or just an oversight? It's unclear, and Garciaparra didn't seem to mind as he flashed a brilliant smile.

Luis Tiant, the wonderful big-game pitcher who Carl Yastrzemski called "the heart and soul" of the near-miss 1970s teams, drew a great round of "Loooooie!" that pushed the crowd to its limit of hoarseness, as did Yaz himself -- the stoic, steady Hall of Famer who played more games in a Boston uniform than anybody else. But the biggest hand of all was saved for the man who almost didn't come: deposed manager-turned-martyr Terry Francona. As fans chanted "Tito! Tito!" the leader of Boston's last two World Series-winning teams beat his chest as a sign of reciprocal affection.

In contrast to Francona, only one guy seemed to get a smattering of boos from the crowd: Jose Casceco. When the admitted steroid user/whistler blower raised up his shirt and flexed his bicep, however, most of the catcalls turned to laughs and cheers. This was not a day for negativity -- at least until the game started.

For a few moments everybody on the field and in the stands just milled around, with the old-timers moving to the pitching mound just as at the '99 All-Star Game. Then the last five of the 213 were called by name, and the place went crazy again: Doerr and Pesky, pushed in wheelchairs by Tim Wakefield, David Ortiz, and Jason Varitek. Only later, watching a replay of the ceremony on NESN, could I see some of the wonderful little touches that followed -- such as Tiant kissing Pesky on the forehead, Johnny crying unashamedly, and '75 heroes Carbo and Fisk exchanged hugs and back slaps.

Only the end of the festivities seemed awkward. Pedro and '04 hero Kevin Millar handled the "toast" to Fenway like a pair of drunk, immature best men, although it was fun to see them pouring champagne for a few fans seated behind their perch atop the Red Sox dugout. The first pitches to Fisk, Rice and Yaz by Boston Mayor Thomas Menino and two descendants of 1912 first-game-tosser Mayor John "Honey Fitzgerald -- grandson Thomas Fitzgerald and great-granddaughter Caroline Kennedy -- should have been done on the field rather than in the stands where few people could see it.

There were also quite a few noticeable no-shows -- Wade Boggs (who would have likely been cheered), Roger Clemens (not sure about him), Fred Lynn, Curt Schilling, Manny Ramirez, and Bob Stanley, just to name a few. But overall it was a damn good show -- and a lot more fun to watch than the 2012 team has been so far. By the third inning, in fact, many of us were hoping we would see Martinez come in and pitch. And by the ninth, the cheers of "We want Tito! We want Tito!" were raining down on new skipper Bobby Valentine.

For Bobby V, Big Papi, and Co., this summer has the potential to feel like it's 100 years long.