Record snows have brought seasons of woe for Red Sox

Will it be another cold October?

Ask any Red Sox fan who remembers Jim Rice 3-D Kelloggs cards to name the most excruciating seasons in team history, and chances are two years will immediately come to mind: 1978 and 2003.  

Sure, 1986 was pretty bad too, but that was against the Mets. These things always hurt worse when the Yankees are involved, and in '78 (Bucky Bleeping Dent) and '03 (Aaron Bleeping Boone) that was most definitely the case. 

When the list of record Boston snow falls began popping up on TV and computer screens a few days ago, I couldn't help but notice the top two slots were occupied by storms that took place in those same cringe-inducing years. 

Occupying the top spot is the President's Day weekend storm of Feb. 17 and 18, 2003, when 27. 6 inches hit the Hub over two days. It was a biggie, sure, but with the web warnings we all received for days and the mega-machinery in place to clean it up, it was not crippling for long.

Number two is the 27.1-inch storm which for many New Englanders who remember it will always be the pre-Internet blast against which all others pale by comparison: The Blizzard of '78.

Fenway Chill: Winter '78 (Boston Globe)

Computer satellite forecasting was in its Good Morning America infancy, and most of us (or our parents) were at school or work when this mid-day Monday storm hit on Feb. 6, 1978. Many commuters who tried to get home were left stranded in their cars on Route 128, and kids had two weeks off to play in the streets.

Fenway Chill: October '78 (Associated Press)

In a way, the reaction to the two storms was similar to how Red Sox fans got through the events of those same years. The bitter taste of 1978 took years to get over; it was really not until the April night in 1986 when a young Texan mowed down 20 Mariners that folks at Fenway could smile again.

The events of 2003, in contrast, were quickly forgotten. Within days of Boone's home run Grady Little was out and the Red Sox were in search of a manager and reinforcements to make another push at the Yankees in '04. Soon Terry Francona, Curt Schilling, and Keith Foulke were in the fold and hopes were high again.

Blizzard of Boone: October '03

Lest fans be too worried that another dismal year is in store with a mega snowfall, they can always look at the fifth-biggest storm of all time for solace. 

The date of that one? Feb. 8-9, 2013.

That October turned out pretty OK.

Lackey, Beckett take different routes since chicken and beer

Beckett and Lackey -- partners in crime 

Three years ago, they were the poster boys for bad clubhouse behavior while with the Red Sox. This week, John Lackey and Josh Beckett were both in the headlines again -- and for dramatically different reasons.

On Monday, Lackey pitched seven stellar innings for the St. Louis Cardinals in Game Three of the NLDS, picking up the victory in a 3-1 Cardinals triumph over the Los Angeles Dodgers. St. Louis clinched the series the next evening, setting up an NLCS date with the Giants in a series that starts tomorrow night in San Francisco. 

Then, on Wednesday morning, as his Dodgers teammates were still lamenting the abrupt end of their season at the hands of Lackey and the Cards, Beckett announced he was retiring from the major leagues after 14 seasons. He faced surgery and months of rehab for a torn labrum in his left hip, and at age 34 figured enough was enough.

Things never came together in LA (USA Today)

It was a sad end to a rough few years for Beckett, who has struggled with injuries since his trade to the Dodgers in August 2012. Although he did pitch a no-hitter earlier this season, he made just 35 starts in his three seasons in LA.

It is hard to imagine two players taking more disparate paths than Beckett and Lackey have since the summer of 2011. In August of that year, Beckett was among the AL leaders in earned-run average while Lackey was at the other end of the Boston rotation -- with an ERA north of 6.00 and status as perhaps the most reviled athlete in New England with his bloated contract and hound-dog face.

In 2011, Lackey couldn't look

As long as the '11 Red Sox were cruising along in first place with the best record in the league, which they were as late as Sept. 1, Lackey's problems were confined to the back-burner. But when Boston had its monumental collapse in September with a 7-20 mark that left it out of the postseason, Big John was seen as one of the key causes for the meltdown. Beckett, after all, still finished 13-7 with a 2.89 ERA.

Then the news got worse. A few days after the season ended, a story by John Tomase of the Boston Herald broke that Boston starting pitchers had spent their off-days during the season hanging in the clubhouse scarfing down beers and fried chicken rather than sitting in the dugout. Beckett, Lackey, and lefty Jon Lester were eventually tabbed as the top offenders, and were raked over the coals by media and fans in a wave of bad publicity that helped cost manager Terry Francona his job.

After the secret (sauce) got out

Beckett never really recovered. He went 5-11 for last-place Boston in 2012 before being traded to the Dodgers along with Carl Crawford, Adrian Gonzalez, and Nick Punto in a salary-dumping move that would help both teams. Away from the boo-birds and pressure-cooker atmosphere at Fenway, Beckett pitched much better in Los Angeles, but could not stay healthy. Shoulder injuries wrecked his 2013 season, and hip problems put him on the disabled list three times this year -- including for the postseason. 

Lackey, in contrast,enjoyed a dramatic resurgence after Chicken-Gate. When it was revealed just how hurt he was during 2011, and that he had pitched a full season in constant pain and without complaint, it won him back some respect. Things were so bad, in fact, that he needed to have Tommy John Surgery and sat out the entire 2012 campaign.

Nobody knew what to expect from Lackey in 2013, but he emerged as one of Boston's top starters during that championship summer with a 1.157 WHIP and 3.52 ERA that went down to 2.77 in the postseason -- when he went 3-1 and became the first man in MLB history to win a World Series clinching game for two different franchises (having done so with the Anaheim Angels as a rookie in 2002).

In 2013, jeers turned to cheers USA Today)

It was more of the same for Big John this year, when he pitched with better velocity and better results than at any time in his Boston tenure before being dispatched to St. Louis for Joe Kelly and Allen Craig as part of John Henry's trade deadline fire sale. Now he's back working his magic in the playoffs, and may even get a crack at a third world championship ring.

Neither Josh Beckett or John Lackey will make the Hall of Fame, but both were All-Star pitchers and key starters on two World Series champions -- Beckett getting his rings with the Florida Marlins in 2003 and the Red Sox in 2007, when he went 20-7 during the regular season and then 4-0 with a 1.20 ERA in October.

They made their mistakes in Boston, to be sure, but they should be remembered for the joy they helped bring to Yawkey Way -- not the buckets of extra-crispy breasts.

Thanks for the (good) memories (Getty Images)

"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. ■

Fenway Fun under full moon for Red Sox on Friday the 13th

Nothing could cool off the Sox Friday

The Red Sox have already been dead and buried several times this season, only to be dug up each time they string together a few wins. Those seeking a true turnaround, however, have never been quite as encouraged as last night at Fenway Park.

As I arrived at the damp Fens with almost-10-year-old Rachel (the 2004 talisman), I took all the normal good-luck precautions. I bought a bag of unsalted peanuts from Nick Jacobs' cart at the entrance to Yawkey Way, made sure my lucky cap was on securely, and tapped a Jimmy Fund collection box as I headed to Section 17. We took a shot and settled in about 10 rows in front of our "real" seats, and although I warned Rachel we might get booted, it never happened. 

More positive karma came in the form of the ceremonial first pitch tossed out by Hall of Famer Carlton Fisk. It was Fisk and former batterymate Luis Tiant who did the honors before Game 6 of last fall's World Series, and that night turned out OK. The starting pitcher was the same for Boston as in the Fall Classic finale too -- John Lackey.

This all pointed to a good night for the boys in red (FYI, I prefer the classic white home jerseys), but it was old pal Terry Francona's Indians who struck first. They got to Lackey for a couple runs in the second courtesy of a mammoth home run to right-field from Carlos Santana, which prompted this exchange: 

Santana's dinger quiets the crowd -- for now.

(Associated Press, Charles Krupa)

Dad: "Wow, that was a no-doubter."

Rachel: "Why do they call it a no-doubter?" 

Dad: "Well, there was never any doubt it would go out once it left the bat. But don't worry, it's still early."

Deep done I worried that the offensive doldrums that have haunted the Red Sox all year, especially with men on base, would continue under the foggy full moon. These fears were initially realized when a lumbering Ortiz was thrown out easily at the plate in the bottom of the second after a very poor decision by third-base coach Brian Butterfield to send him with nobody out and Cleveland starter Justin Masterson struggling to find the plate. 

The gaffe was magnified by a couple shots that rolled to the 420-mark in deepest center from A.J. Pierzynski (hitting more than .330 at Fenway!) and Jackie Bradley, Jr. Although they were good for a double and triple respectively that gave Boston the lead, it should have been 4-2 instead of 3-2 -- and with runs so hard to come by lately I worried we'd regret the one squandered. 

Lackey struggled early, finished strong.

(Associated Press, Charles Krupa)

It wound up not being a problem. Although the Indians did things in the third on back-to-back doubles from Asdrubal Cabrera and Michael Brantley, Lackey locked it in after that and would be near perfect until relieved with two out in the seventh. 

Masterson, however, was clearly off his game, and after allowing two walks to start the fourth (his third and fourth free passes of the night) was yanked by Francona. Young lefty Kyle Crockett didn't have much more luck, as a Mike Napoli double made it 5-2. This seemed worthy of a Dad and Daughter selfie, which we promptly placed on Facebook as a cyber-smile to the Reluctant Fan working at home.  

(A sidenote here; while last year Francona was routinely cheered each time he emerged from the Cleveland dugout at Fenway, last night there was almost no attention paid the former Sox skipper and folk hero during his many trips to the mound. I think this is a positive, for although fans here still remember the championships Tito helped bring to New England, this is a new era with new titles and new players -- save Big Papi.)

The middle innings were quiet offensively, but the Sox flashed some fine leather around including a leaping line-drive grab by Brock Holt in left field and a couple diving masterpieces from Dustin Pedroia on ground balls in the hole. It wasn't until later that I learned that Pedroia had gone to the game from the hospital after the birth of his third child earlier in the day.

Dad Petey plays some D.

(Associated Press)

Petey's early Father's Day got a bit happier in the seventh. He was one of nine Sox to bat in a four-run inning, with his double accounting for two of the runs and Napoli (single) and Daniel Nava (double) hits delivering the others. A moon shot off the left-field light tower by Xander Bogearts in the eighth finished the scoring, prompting a gasp from what was left of a rapidly-thinning crowd. 

Xander shakes the lights.

Cleveland was going through the last of its seven pitchers by the bottom of the eighth when Rachel suggested we move down. This seemed like a great idea, so we spent the top of the ninth watching in box seats by the Red Sox dugout as Burke Badenhop struck out the side to end it.

All in a all, it felt like the good old days of 2013. The Red Sox got strong starting pitching, excellent relief work, timely hitting, and contributions from up and down the lineup. Rookies Bogearts, Bradley, and Holt (now hitting .337, and near .400 when leading off) all looked terrific.

That Bradley kid sure can fly.

The winning streak was now at two, and last place comfortably in the rear-view mirror. Is it the start of a bigger turnaround? That remains to be seen, but Rachel and her dad will be back at Fenway Sunday to try to deliver some more good karma.

Rachel's good luck earns her new shades. 

(Note photo bomb by Twins employees)

Fenway first-pitch-and-catch honorees it would be fun to see

The mayor belongs on the mound.

Everybody from Peter Gammons to John Farrell's housekeeper has dissected the Red Sox-Cardinals World Series match-up position by position, so at Fenway Reflections we thought we'd focus on another important aspect of any postseason contest -- the first-pitch throwers.

Sox VP Dr. Charles Steinberg and his crew have always done a great job trotting out honorees for this task, including 2004 heroes Dave Roberts and Bill Mueller during the last two ALCS games at Fenway Park. Tonight it's Hall of Famer and recent statue recipient Carl Yastrzemski handling the chore for Game 1, and it's hard to argue with that choice.

But if we could put pomp and circumstance aside, along with superstitions about past Series lost, wouldn't it be great to see some of these folks stride out to the mound and back behind the plate?

Dick Hoyt to Rick Hoyt

The Hoyts on the hills.

Well known to any true fan of the Boston Marathon, this father-son racing duo has inspired millions through the years. Who hasn't teared up watching Dick push Rick's custom-made wheelchair up Heartbreak Hill or across the finish line? When you learn the story behind their partnership, especially the accomplishments Rick has achieved off the course, your respect can only grow. These guys live "Boston Strong" every day.

Billy Rohr to Russ Gibson 

Not worth much, unless you know the story.

Gentleman Jim Lonborg was the big winner on the 1967 Red Sox, and the Cy Young Award winner has been justly honored as a first-pitch tosser on several occasions including Game Two of this year's ALDS. It was rookie right-hander Rohr, however, who first signaled to New Englanders that the '67 Sox might be worth watching when he came within one pitch of a no-hitter at Yankee Stadium in his very first major league game. Gibson, his catcher, was also making his big-league debut that day. That's the kind of stuff Impossible Dreams like 1967 -- and 2013 -- are made of.

Oil Can Boyd / Bob Stanley to Rich Gedman

Gedman tags out Gary Carter in the '86 Series.

Bill Buckner has gotten his moment of first-pitch redemption at Fenway -- actually, several of them, including Opening Day in 2008 before the '07 champions got their rings. He has received his standing ovations, and now it's time for three more members of the near-miss 1986 Red Sox to get theirs. 

Boyd, Stanley, and Gedman were all one strike away from World Series rings, and deserve some love to replace the angst they experienced during the meltdown at Shea Stadium. Stanley and Gedman are both New England natives who became All-Stars for the team they rooted for as kids, and the charismatic Boyd has settled down to make his home here. The Red Sox would not have won the '86 AL pennant without them, and now it's time to let them know they are appreciated. 

Jordan Leandre to Mike Andrews 

Leandre to Andrews would be a beautiful battery.

Leandre first gained Fenway fame as a 4-year-old cancer patient, singing the National Anthem before several games in the magic summer of 2004 and the next few years thereafter. Fans watched him progress from two full-leg casts to a wheelchair to a limp and then a triumphant run around the bases. He's since graduated from the Jimmy Fund Clinic to a healthy career as a teenage pitcher, including a no-hitter in summer-league play.

Andrews, a rookie Red Sox second baseman on the 1967 AL champions, devoted more than 30 years to fighting pediatric and adult cancer as chairman of the Jimmy Fund, and still looks like he could turn a double play at age 70. He's famously shunned the spotlight in the past, but honoring him would be a natural choice in this, the 60th anniversary of the Jimmy Fund-Red Sox partnership 

Bill Lee to Carlton Fisk 

A near-miss battery.

This battery started Game 7 of the 1975 World Series vs. the Reds at Fenway. Left-hander Lee was one botched double-play and one eephus pitch away from a championship toast at his beloved Elliot Lounge, while Fisk -- who had famously won Game 6 with his homer off the left-field foul pole -- just missed a title in his only Fall Classic of a 24-year catcher career. Polar opposites off the field, the stoic Fisk and iconoclastic were in perfect harmony on it.

Thomas Menino to Bill Russell

Russ knows rings.

Sure, he often gets poked fun at for his creative use of the English language, and he sometimes gets his sports facts wrong, but Menino has done much right for Boston during a record five terms as the city's mayor. As he readies to retire from office, this would be a great way to honor the man who stood Boston Proud after the Marathon bombings and many, many other times. 

Celtics great Russell is the greatest champion in Boston sports history and will be getting a statue in his honor here on Nov. 1 thanks in large part to Menino's lobbying. We know Russ doesn't have much of a throwing arm from watching a previous first toss, but it would be fun to see him crouch down for Menino's delivery.

Terry Francona to Jason Varitek 

Two of the great minds behind '04 and '07. 

Yeah, things ended badly for Tito here, but what better way to bury the hatchet? He received a nice Fenway greeting during his return with Cleveland this summer, but an appearance here would bring down the house.