How a gift from Red Sox fans gave Boston Mayor Tom Menino strength and support

A man and his cane. (Boston Globe)

In the last months of his life, after his retirement from office and before his death from cancer on Oct. 30, Boston Mayor Tom Menino was almost never seen in public without wielding a very distinctive-looking cane he was given exactly one year ago today.

It was fashioned from a genuine Louisville Slugger baseball bat, with Menino's name and the years of the last three Red Sox World Series championships emblazoned on its barrel. The mayor liked to point out with pride that the 2004, 2007, and 2013 titles were all won during his administration, and he had several Sox players autograph the bat -- including '04 pitching ace Pedro Martinez and various members of the '13 champs.

The "bat cane" went everywhere with Menino, including his stays at Brigham and Women's Hospital and his chemotherapy treatments next door at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. When mourners passed by his open casket at Faneuil Hall last week, they could see the unique walking stick lying beside him. Afterwards, the mayor's press secretary, Dot Joyce, was seen carrying it out of the hall.

"When they showed Angela [Menino's widow] on TV walking up the steps and into their home that night, you could see she was carrying the cane," says Lynne Smith, the Red Sox super-fan famous for her extraordinary outfits, including a Fenway Park hat with working lights and Citgo sign. "That was so hard for us to see. We knew how much he  cared about it."

That Smith noticed the cane during its brief TV appearance was no surprise. It was she and her husband, Gary, who had ordered the very special walking stick for Menino, and then presented it to their friend at a charity event last Nov. 10.

The Smiths and the Mayor -- friends and fans.

"We got the idea when we went to the [2013] Red Sox-Tigers ALDS games in Detroit, and saw an elderly man walking with a baseball bat cane at Comerica Park," says Smith. "Gary and I just looked at each other and said 'Menino' at the same time. We knew it was something the mayor would love, so we asked the man where he had gotten it."

It turns out there was a retired firefighter named Rick Just who made the Little-League-sized Louisville Slugger canes -- available at http://baseballbatcane.com/ -- as a one-man operation out of his DeLand, Florida home. After the Red Sox won the World Series, the Smiths contacted Just with their request for a Menino model.

When they gave the cane to the mayor last November, "his eyes just lit up," recalls Lynne Smith. "You could tell he liked it."

John Henry views the cane. (Tom Fitzsimmons)

Menino had already been using a cane for a variety of health reasons, including a broken leg in April 2013 and his bone-weakening cancer treatment this year. He was not happy with the walking sticks he had, however, including one that had been used by the late Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy but was too long for the mayor. As a result, he wasn't going out as much. 

This changed once he got the bat cane. Suddenly this Red Sox fan who signified "Boston Strong" as well as anybody was proud to walk the streets with its assistance, and loved showing it off. 

A familiar sight during the last year. (Boston Globe)

"It was extremely important to him, and he would not leave the house without it," one of his Dana-Farber social workers explains. "It made having to use a cane feel like a source of strength, because it was connected to his Red Sox pride."

Probing reporters asked Menino where he got the bat cane, and at first he would only say it was "from friends." Finally he relented and told them, and when Lynne and Gary went on the record with Just's name, the firefighter-turned-craftsman was inundated with orders.

"He was so appreciative, he insisted on making a bat cane for me," says Lynne Smith. "Louisville Slugger gave him a pink one at my request, and he inscribed it to,  'Lynne Smith #1 Red Sox Fan.'" Like the mayor's version, it lists the 2004-07-13 championships, and is one of her most cherished Sox-themed objects in a home filled with them. 

 Lynne loves her pink bat.

While Menino's bat cane did not prove magical for the 2014 Red Sox, it was not for lack of effort. It went to spring training in Florida with the mayor, and on many trips to Fenway Park during the summer. It even made it to the White House when the mayor accompanied last year's title-winning Sox to a celebration with President Obama. Lynne Smith made sure to call Rick Just and tell him, "One of your bats is in the Oval Office."

The last time the mayor ever visited Fenway was with current Massachusetts Senator Ed Markey, for the final game of Boston's dismal '14 season. As always, the cane was by his side. 

"Angela told us that the mayor just carried himself differently with the cane," says Lynne Smith. "Once he went to a school and a little boy took the cane and didn't want to give it back, and one time the airlines gave him a hard time and said it was a weapon. But he always got it back."

Menino's last Xmas tree lighting (Olga Khvan)

The Smiths got a deeper sense of how important their gift had been when several members of Menino's staff approached them at the mayor's funeral on Nov. 3 to say how much the cane had meant to him. 

"It was a random act of kindness," Lynne Smith says now. "We gave it with love, and just hoped he would have some fun with it.

"We had no idea it would take on a life of its own."

Fenway Family Provides Karma and Seats for Series Finale

The tickets that didn't work -- until they did.

"I love all these guys," Dustin Pedroia said of his teammates last night at Fenway Park, and he might have been talking for all of us who were there watching them. Never have I felt the place more electric with good karma -- the power of which drained most of our cell phones by the second inning the Red Sox World Series-clinching win over the Cardinals.

Ted Williams was 10 days old the last time the Sox and their fans got to celebrate a world championship finale on the Fenway grass, so obviously it was a unique experience. What made it that much more gratifying, however, were the numerous moments of kindness that got me and the Reluctant Fan through what could have been a disastrous night.

When we arrived at Gate A, we were told there was a problem with our tickets. Eventually we got in, but a mistake had been made and it turned out we had no actual seats. We just needed to roam and hope for the best.

A bearded Fisk and Tiant prepare to throw.

Now Michelle is not, by nature, an enthusiastic seat roamer -- guys who can find a woman who does have this quality, marry her immediately -- but she was a good egg last night. And, because of the aura of warmth throughout the ballpark, she actually didn't have to do quite as much roaming as you would expect.

First, just before the pregame ceremonies, we ran into my friend Bill Nowlin, a fellow Fenway author-scholar who said he had seen some empty spots in the rows behind him in the lower grandstand of Section 17. We found a couple and watched the National Anthem and first pitches from there.

This was extra special for me. I had been at Game 6 of the 1975 World Series with my family when last night's first-tossers Luis Tiant and Carlton Fisk were the starting battery for Boston, and I have been lucky enough to spend time with both these fine gentlemen in recent years. Pudge narrated the DVD for my last book, and Luis and I teamed up at Jerry Remy's for a book signing and dinner, when El Tiante gave Jason a puff of his cigar and Rachel a kiss! It's wonderful when your heroes live up to expectations.

Seat hero Mark Waitkus at the '07 Series.

Just before the "real" first pitch we were on the move again; the true residents of our seats had shown up. Luckily we just had to go over one section and up a few rows before another friend motioned us over -- Red Sox photographer/artist Mark Waitkus. He said there were a couple empties by where he was shooting in the last lower grandstand row (NN) of Section 18, and we took them quick. These were absolutely fantastic seats, almost directly behind home plate with perfect sight lines. [Shameless plug -- check out Mark's beautiful photos/artwork here: http://waitkusstudios.myshopify.com/]

Boston starter John Lackey had his early struggles, with quite a few hard shots that caused nervous whispers to spread, but it was still 0-0 after the top of the third. I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me, Brian, a former baseball player at UMASS Amherst who was there with his 7-year-old son, Kaidan. Brian had turned down two free ticket offers from friends before securing these two, because he couldn't imagine not being at the game with his son.

Lackey was locked in.

This, of course, made me feel guilty since our own son Jason was at home. However -- and here's where my parental pride really shines through -- Jason had told Michelle earlier that he understood why I couldn't take him. We only had two tickets, and his sister Rachel was very sick. If he went without her she would be heartbroken, and so he was a good big bro and stayed home to watch with Rachel and their wonderful Bubbie Madelyn while I took mom to the game. 

Thanks, buddy -- next time I promise we'll all go.

Most Fenway veterans know that you're usually safe in "acquired" seats by the third inning, but not this time -- just before Ellsbury led off the bottom of the frame, a guy and his son came and we were on the move again. [An aside: What possesses people to show up so damn late? As far as I'm concerned, you should lose your seats in the postseason if you don't arrive by the third.]

Some lucky charms carried in my bag.

For us, it was now off to the third-base side, and in the midst of our travels we got to say hi to Fenway friends Rob "Peanuts" Barry, Lynne "the Fenway Hat Lady" Smith, and Section 30 seatmates Nancy and Erin. I also waved up to my friends The K Men, who I am sure could not see me from atop the Green Monster but who were certainly enjoying this moment as well as anybody.

Around Section 27, an older gentleman in the first row of the lower grandstand waved us over and said the people next to him had left for a private party. Here is where we saw the bases-clearing double by Shane Victorino, making it 3-0, punctuated by Victorino's fist pump at third almost directly in front of us. 

Once again, we figured we were there for the duration -- but it wasn't to be. 

Packed but not needed on this warm night.

In the top of the fourth, a couple New York-looking dudes in leather jackets and slicked-back hair showed up and told us they had been "upgraded" to the seats by Major League Baseball. I had no idea what this meant, and still don't after one of them explained it to me twice, but the tickets did match up and we were booted once again. 

Now I feared we were in big trouble. Fenway was jam-packed, with every seat and ounce of standing-room space seemingly filled. The ushers were pushing folks along faster than normal and we appeared to be out of karma.

Then I heard a voice call out, "Saul, I've been waiting for you."

It was Brian, the guy with the young son we had met back in Section 18. He was now sitting in the front row of section 19, Kaidan on his lap, and explained that he had run into a friend with one empty seat and was staying with him. His own two seats were now empty, and he wanted us to have them. 

Drew goes deep -- 4-0.

Thanking him profusely, we hurried back to row NN and sat down next to the guys who had warmly kicked us out earlier. After looks of confusion, we explained our situation and struck up a conversation. Joel and Shane were father-and-son Sox fans from Florida who had flown up that day and were thrilled at the possibility of celebrating this moment together.

Stephen Drew homered to lead off the bottom of the fourth at almost the moment we sat down beside them. By the end of the fourth it was 6-0, Boston, and seemingly invincible Cardinals rookie Michael Wacha had been proven human after all and was in the shower.

We were "home" to stay. And as the innings moved on, and Lackey and the Boston relief corps continued to shine, the folks in our vicinity grew closer by the out. We put arms around each other and sang loudly to "Sweet Caroline," shared not-dead-yet cellphones for photos and calls home, and chanted "MVP! MVP!" for David Ortiz when he was walked intentionally for the third time.

Koji and his pals celebrate.

By the time Koji Uehara fanned Matt Carpenter to end it, we were a family of sorts. We took turns taking pictures with the fireworks, flashing scoreboards, and triumphant players as our backdrop. We exchanged high-fives, hugs, and email addresses for photo-sharing. We listened to Papi, Farrell, Petey, and Koji reflect passionately and eloquently on what had transpired. We cheered wildly for Ben Cherington, finally fully out of Theo's shadow.

We made it out to Yawkey Way an hour later, when it was quiet enough to walk right into Twins Souvenirs and shake hands with a beaming Arthur D'Angelo -- whose own World Series attendance record goes back to 1946. The championship shirts in most sizes had already run out but nobody seemed to mind. We all just walked around with these smiles on our faces that made us look something like the zombie in the first "Men in Black" movie minus the worms.

I never thought I would have a Fenway experience to top Game 5 of the 2004 ALCS, and in terms of the actual game this was not highlight-reel worthy. But the 6-1 score was not what stood out to me, not what Michelle and I took away from the experience. It was the way Fenway felt -- better than ever. 

Boston Strong. 

Bud Selig: MLB to rename ALCS MVP Award "The Big Papi"

It ain't over till the Big Papi swings.

After Dustin Pedroia's laser-drive single to short-right field last night loaded the bases in the bottom of the eighth -- and Will Middlebrooks slammed on the brakes rounding third -- I turned to the guy sitting behind me in Section 14 at Fenway Park for a very brief conversation as David Ortiz stepped to the plate.

"I wonder if they should have sent Middlebrooks?" I asked.

"No, you don't want to take the bat out of Papi's hands."

"But he hasn't been hitting this series."

"Maybe, but there are two outs. You don't want to make the last out at home plate down four runs. We only have four outs to go in the game."

He was right from a baseball strategy point of view, of course. But after watching the Red Sox record 1 hit and strike out 29 times over the first 16 2/3 innings of the ALCS against Detroit , I have to admit I wasn't even sure Big Papi could bail us out of this one.

I should have known better. 

Papi over...

On the very next pitch -- the first he saw from Tigers closer  Joaquin Benoit -- Ortiz hit a bullet to right field that just made it over the glove of a leaping Torii Hunter and into the Red Sox bullpen. Just like that, a 5-1 deficit had become a 5-5 tie, and a two games to none series deficit heading to Detroit was no longer a near certainty.

...and out (Stan Grossfeld, Boston Globe)

The Red Sox were alive in the game, and an inning later -- when Jarrod Saltalamacchia singled home Jonny Gomes -- they were very much alive in the ALCS. "Love That Dirty Water" started playing, cell phones started ringing (and serving as cameras), and I high-fived the guy behind me. Perhaps, if he reads this, he'll email me his name.

So ended one of the most incredible nights in Fenway Park's long postseason history, a night the Red Sox turned the tables on the Tigers with one swing and left fans feeling that this very likable, hairy team might just have the mojo to go all the way.

Seldom do emotions switch as dramatically as they did in this contest. The good karma started well before the first pitch, when fans arriving at Fenway were treated to a wonderful last-second comeback by Tom Brady and the Patriots down in Foxboro, courtesy of flat-screens throughout the ballpark.

Comeback No. 1 (Nancy Wall Farrington)

When my wife Michelle and I ran into Nancy Wall Farrington, our regular season weekend seat mate, we thought it was another good sign. The Sox almost never lose when we see each other in Section 30, so maybe seeing each other in the Gate A concourse would work as well.

After slipping our lucky $1 into a Jimmy Fund collection box (an every-game ritual), we settled into our seats just as the pre-game ceremonies were wrapping up with 2004 ALCS hero Dave Roberts threw out the first pitch. (Shameless promotion: Roberts was my favorite interview for my upcoming book, "Miracle at Fenway," in which you'll learn just what he was thinking before the biggest stolen base in Red Sox history.)

Dave Roberts: excellent karma

Because this was a "date night" with my mom babysitting the kids, I promised Michelle I would not keep score and instead focus completely on her (and the game, of course). This felt as uncomfortable to me as showing up in the fifth inning, as we did at our son Jason's first game, because she thought he'd never last nine. (The game went 14, and we stayed, so he saw his 9).

Still, I kept the pen in my pocket. I've survived 14 years, 11 months, and 6 days of marriage by knowing when to let things go, so I wrapped my arm around my bride and settled in to watch Clay Buchholz and Max Scherzer do battle.

Another good match-up.

Over the next five innings, the game took on an almost uncanny resemblance to the previous night's Jon Lester-Anibal Sanchez affair. The Red Sox could not record a hit or even get much wood on the ball over the first five innings, with Scherzer recording nine strikeouts, but a strong performance from Buchholz was keeping Boston in the game. My buddies "The K Men" were pretty busy with six cards posted for Clay through five.

The lady in front of us was keeping score, which naturally had me longing to have a pen and program in my own hands. Before the top of the sixth, with a 1-0 Detroit lead and tension in the park building, I told Michelle I couldn't take it anymore -- and flipped to the scorecard in the center of my official ALCS program. I needed to keep busy, and she understood. 

Date Night...and no scoring (for a while)

After filling in the names and writing in an "8" for the first out of the sixth (fly to deep center by Torii Hunter) I quickly began questioning my decision. Double-home run-double-single-home run were the next five entries on my cardboard grid, as the Tigers chased Buchholz with four more runs.

When he was lifted for Brandon Workman, I was among many fans giving Buchholz a standing ovation as he walked off the field. "You had a great year, Clay!" I yelled, fearing it very well might be the last time I'd cheer him or any Sox starter at Fenway this season. 

Boston did break its 16-inning scoreless drought in the bottom of the sixth when a Victorino single and Pedroia double off the Wall made it 5-1, and the fans came to life as Ortiz stepped in with two outs. Scherzer blew him away with a 96-mile-per-hour fastball, however, and silence quickly returned.

Scherzer was dealing.

By the end of the seventh, with the help of the JumboTron, I had completely caught up on my scorecard and was thinking ahead to whether John Lackey had any chance against Verlander in Game 3. I'm not a doubting man by any means, especially having lived through 2004, but I can guarantee there were not 1,000 people among the 38,000-plus at Fenway who figured the Sox had any chance in this one.

Then, with blinking lights flashing, one of my newest Fenway friends surprised me by showing up to say hello. Lynne Smith, aka the Fenway Park Hat Lady, sat down beside Michelle and quickly started gabbing about Detroit (where they are both from). I interviewed Smith for "Miracle at Fenway" a couple weeks back and we've become Facebook buddies -- but this was our first time connecting for more than a quick wave at a game.

The Tigers went quickly in the top of the eighth, and after Lynne's husband Gary took her picture with me and Michelle (along with several other requests, as Fenway's 2012 "Lib Dooley Fan of the Year" gets wherever she goes), they departed. I quickly posted the photo on Facebook with the tagline "Lucky Lynne Smith joins us in eighth -- can it help?"

The Fenway Hat Lady delivers the luck.

Apparently it did. Papi and the boys staged their great comeback, my phone died immediately after I took a picture of the JumboTron flashing "RED SOX WIN," and I had to ask a couple other fans to take our picture with the Green Monster scoreboard behind us. 

So Good! So Good! So Good. (Julie Fogharty)

I call Michelle "The Reluctant Fan" because she often sneaks a book with her to the ballpark, but this one even had her giddy. We spent several minutes cheering for the cameras with a few hundred other folks over by the NESN setup on Yawkey Way, then went into Twins -- where my wife the serious Harvard doc purchased the silliest-looking Wally hat you'll ever see (along with tee-shirts for both kids). 

Where does this game rank with my best ever seen at Fenway? Well, nothing can top Game Five of the '04 ALCS and Game Six of the '75 World Series, but this is right up there with the Trot Nixon Game in the '03 ALCS, the 14-inning Father's Day win (Jason's first game), and the Opening Day ring ceremony of 2005. 

For games with The Reluctant Fan, however, it's tops. I'm betting next time she leaves the book at home...  

...but maybe not the towel.

Red Sox Get ALDS Karma from Lynne the Fenway Hat Lady

Where did the Red Sox get the karma needed for this afternoon's 12-2 shellacking of the Rays in their ALDS opener at packed Fenway Park? For the answer, we take you to a scene that unfolded at a much quieter Fenway during Boston's intra-squad scrimmage on Wednesday.

Lynne Smith was walking by the first-base dugout when she heard a familiar voice shout out to her:

"Hey, woman, get over here!"

Flashing his famous grin, David Ortiz took Smith and enveloped her in a bear hug befitting a walk-off homer. Big Papi has a soft spot in his heart for the grandmother from Wellesley, Mass., who lays claim to being the world's biggest Sox fan -- and has the plaque to prove it.

On this occasion, Ortiz was excited to see not only Smith but also what she was wearing. Just as manager John Farrell had set up his pitching staff for the playoffs, Smith made her own preparations for Boston's first postseason series in four years.

Know throughout Red Sox Nation as the "Fenway Park Hat Lady," she unveiled a new headpiece for Game 1. It is covered with photos of each member of the current roster, along with a prominent "Boston Strong" emblem honoring the victims and first responders of the Boston Marathon bombings . If anybody on the Sox gets hurt and needs a replacement, the ever-resourceful Smith will be ready to swap a new picture into place.

Lynne's latest -- Boston Strong indeed.

There certainly wasn't the case today. As Smith and her family watched on, the Red Sox scored five runs in the fourth inning aided by various Tampa Bay miscues. The outburst erase a 2-0 deficit, and when Boston added three more in the fifth the rout was on.

Smith is no newcomer to postseason excitement. She's been on hand for most of the big Red Sox moments since the 1980s, and was given the inaugural Lib Dooley Award last year as the Red Sox' greatest living fan -- named for the famed front-row devotee who saw more than 4,000 straight games at the Fens.

As the photos of her in various books and magazine articles can attest, Smith is most famous for the hat that led to her nickname. It is a miniature replica of the famous ballpark on Yawkey Way, complete with a diamond, Green Monster, Jimmy Fund billboard, and even a working Citgo sign.

Fenway Hat (daytime mode)

Fenway Hat (nighttime mode)

Here's a shot of Lynne getting her Lib Dooley Award at Fenway last year, from none other than Big Papi himself, as Lynne and Lib's families both looked on.

Smith has made her fashion statements through the years with the help of various friends. The late great dressmaker Terry Ramriez sewed the original Fenway hat, which was created for the 1999 All-Star Game and features a mini helmet from every major league team. The coat she's wearing in the shot above was made to honor Fenway Park's 100th anniversary, and has something symbolizing every season of the ballpark's first century.

Either patches, for championship seasons...

Or, for non-title years, a mini photo of a player from that season's club...

It's not just what Lynne wears to the games that defines her dedication, however. Her family room, study, and even bathroom at home are dedicated to all things Red Sox. Here are some samples...

The guitar is signed by the 2004 champs

A coffee table match-up with New York

More Wallys than I could count

Tickets from games gone by.

A Fenway brick honoring her family

...and many, many pics of the family at Fenway.

How, you may ask, does Lynne spend her off days? Well, this superfan is always keeping track of the roster, and if a move is made she is ready to not only update her hat -- but also her new end table. 

Yup, that's the full 25-man roster...

...and those are the guys awaiting their call.

So worry not, Red Sox fans. Even if the Rays manage to take one at Fenway and even the series, there is always hope as long as The Fenway Hat Lady is watching.