As Bogaerts matures, could there still be room for Drew?

Drew shined defensively in the postseason.

The Red Sox finally made David Ortiz a Happy Papi with a contact extension that all but assures the greatest clutch hitter in team history will finish his career as a Red Sox. Now, with Opening Day almost upon us, the Sox have the opportunity to make another move that could help one of their rising stars reach his potential.

Bringing back Stephen Drew.

Sure, Xander Bogaerts may be the best thing since Big Yaz Bread, or at least appeared to be when he took over at third base for a slumping Will Middlebrooks in last year's playoffs, but he's still technically a rookie with just 18 games of regular season experience. He showed tremendous poise and patience in becoming the youngest player (at 21) to ever start a postseason contest for the Red Sox, but he also made an error in Game 4 of the World Series with a rushed throw to first base and hit just .238 with one extra-base hit in six games against the Cardinals. 

This spring training, with the eyes of the baseball world looking on, he's batting .227 with 1 homer after a fairly large sample size of 44 at-bats. He does have 3 triples, but he also has 10 strikeouts.

He may be the future, but we're not there yet.

In other words, he may still be a great prospect, but he's not yet an every-day great player.

He's also about to start his first season as a big-league regular, at one of the game's most demanding positions: shortstop. He's shown excellent hands and range at every level, but he's never played more than 134 games in a campaign (last year, when he played 60 at Portland, 56 at Pawtucket, and 18 in Boston). Suiting up in the majors every day is a grind, as he'll soon discover.

Middlebrooks, after some talk of a move to first base, is back at third, apparently for the duration. Bogaerts is slated to be the everyday shortstop, with Jonathan Herrera the likely back-up option. Herrera has 375 games of MLB experience under his belt, but has never been a regular or played in an intense atmosphere like Boston.

Stephen Drew, of course, has done both.

Drew is a Dirt Dog who rebounded well in 2013.

Last year Drew recovered from an awful start at the plate to produce an excellent slash line of .291/.367/.497 in August and September combined as Boston pushed toward the postseason. His overall power totals of 29 doubles, 8 triples, 13 homers, and 67 RBI placed him among the upper tier of American League shortstops offensively, even though he was limited to 124 games by a hamstring injury in mid-season.

Drew's fielding was also very solid. He ranked third among AL shortstops in range factor, second in fielding percentage, and during the playoffs was particularly flashy with the glove -- playing so well defensively that John Farrell kept him in the lineup despite a .111 postseason batting average.

Farrell figured eventually the veteran would come through with the stick, and his patience paid off. Drew led off the fourth inning of Game 6 of the World Series with a home run -- igniting a three-run inning that broke open the clincher for Boston.

In Game 6 versus St. Louis, Drew came through.

His ego boosted by all these positives -- and a money-hungry agent in Scott Boras -- Drew chose as a free agent to turn down Boston's one-year, $14.1 million qualifying contract offer. Surely he figured better deals from other teams would come, but despite persistent rumors of suitors he's still without a home. 

The Sox are gambling on Bogaerts, but since Drew can't seem to find anybody else willing to meet his price, perhaps it's time Ben Cherington finds out if Boras might just take a lower offer. (One reason other teams are hesitant to sign Drew is that they would have to forfeit a draft pick to the Red Sox as compensation.)

Bogaerts may be the future, but Drew has been there and done that -- and would be an excellent insurance policy if the rookie were to struggle early or later on. He may even have a few tips to give the kid after more than 900 games at shortstop. At this point he likely would not mind a backup role as a chance to stay in the majors.

Drew apparently would love to be back.

Would Drew want to come back? He told Nick Cafardo of the Boston Globe that he would,  saying that "The chemistry Pedey [second baseman Dustin Pedroia] and I had was tremendous. But it's a business. It would be great to go back there. The owners, management, maybe that's something they want to do different. That's all I can think of."

Cherington and Co. want Bogaerts at short, and they want him there every day. But it's a long season.

Look at it this way: What if the Red Sox had handed left field to Jackie Bradley Jr. last year, and didn't have Shane Victorino to step in when Bradley faltered?

There might not have been a chance for Bogaerts -- or Drew -- to shine in the postseason.
     Mar

Pedro, Yaz highlight Red Sox "Grade A" lineup vs.Marlins

Pedro looks to tame the Marlins Tuesday.

After getting heat from Florida Marlins fans and management for fielding a lineup last Thursday at Roger Dean Stadium that included just one likely regular season starter, the Red Sox are making sure there are no complaints for those Florida rooters who make the trip to Jet Blue Park for Tuesday's split-squad rematch.

On the recommendation of Boston owner John Henry, who Saturday joked that the Marlins should "apologize for their regular season lineup," Red Sox manager John Farrell has what he calls a "Grade A" starting nine awaiting Florida fans and management 

Wade Boggs will be batting leadoff and playing third base, followed by Dustin Pedroia at second base and David Ortiz at designated hitter. Carl Yastrzemski will bat cleanup and guard the Green Monster in left, with Nomar Garciaparra at shortstop and Mo Vaughn at first. The bottom three in the order will include Carlton Fisk at catcher, Dwight Evans in right, and Johnny Damon in center. 

The starting pitcher? Who else but Pedro Martinez?

"This should be good enough for the Marlins management and fans," says Farrell. "Yaz has lost a step or two, and Carlton is having some problems with his knees, but we think they should be ready."

Yaz: Spry enough at 74.

Asked if he has any reserves available if needed, Farrell says that Dave Roberts has been studying the windups and pick-off moves of the entire Florida staff and will be loosening up for a pinch-running appearance in a close game. Fred Lynn and Jim Rice have also been taking extra batting practice in anticipation of seeing action.

After Pedro, Luis Tiant and Dennis Eckersley are expected to pitch in the game. Boo Ferriss also wanted to get some innings in, but the 92-year-old hurler could not get a plane out of Mississippi in time to make it to Florida by Tuesday morning.

"It's too bad," Ferriss said by phone Monday. "I think I could handle that Marlins lineup pretty good."

No Mo Fooling Around: Oritz Deserves Two-Year Extention

For what he's done, Ortiz has earned two years.

After several weeks of trying to figure out why so many people are adverse to giving a contract extension to David Ortiz, merely the best big-game player in Red Sox history, I think I've finally put my finger on one of the key reasons -- one that might be locked deep in the subconscious of many naysayers.

Mo Vaughn.

Mo was once the man for Boston.

Before Pedro and Papi and Petey and Red Sox Nation and the sellout steak, Vaughn was the best and most popular everyday player on the Boston team -- a guy who, like Ortiz, loomed large at the plate, in the clubhouse, and everywhere else he went including the Jimmy Fund Clinic. Then Mo chose to take his talents elsewhere as a free agent, and within a couple years injuries and too many trips to the postgame buffet did him in. 

Sure, Red Sox fans hated to see Mo go, but based on the final numbers they probably thought it wasn't such a bad move. Personally, I think that like Bruce Hurst a decade before, Vaughn's heart was never quite in the game after he left the intense atmosphere of Boston for come-late-leave-early Southern California. Fleeing town earned Mo plenty of cash but also may have cost him a shot at Cooperstown. (Before you laugh off this claim, consider his OPS of .936 through his Red Sox years. He's in pretty good company there, with a figure not too far below Willie Mays among the career leaders.)

Mo moped a lot in Anaheim.

Ortiz has a body type much like Vaughn, so it's natural to assume he's going to lose his bat speed and skills quickly as well. But Papi is already seven years older than Mo when he went to Anaheim, and that's just according to his "official" age (in reality, he might be one or two years older). Even taking his recent injuries into account, there is no sign of a Vaughn-like decline.

In fact, based on last year's World Series, Ortiz looks nearly as good as ever.

Now let's suppose that he does start to slip this year, and the second season of a multi-year deal winds up being largely a bust. If there was ever a player who deserved a bit of a golden parachute and victory tour, isn't it this guy? I know it's not my money, but seriously, hasn't this guy earned the street cred of the 1983 broken-down but beloved version of Carl Yastrzemski if it comes to that?

Broken down, still beloved.

Let's look at it another way. If Carl Crawford is worth a seven-year deal worth $142 million from Boston after winning his first Silver Slugger award, isn't Dave Ortiz worth two seasons at $30 million after earning his sixth -- along with the World Series MVP?

Back in 2004, Ortiz did something that neither Ted or Yaz or Pudge or Rocket or Mo could do in Boston -- he led his team to a World Series title. This alone would have been enough to earn him "never pay for a meal again" status in New England, but then he went and did it again. And again.

Three championships in a decade. Sure, Ortiz didn't do it all himself -- but he was a huge cog in the wheel, perhaps the hugest. Larry Bird won three titles for Boston as well, but if he had asked for a two-year pact, even during the Lying Down When Not Playing Era when his back had the durability of cardboard, would anybody have protested?

Down but never out.

Unless they wanted to be yelled off the air on WEEI or booted out of the old Garden, the answer is a resounding NO. Larry Legend was worth whatever he wanted for what he meant to the team.

Isn't Ortiz?

I say lay off Papi's back and give him the extra year he's seeking. And if he manages to keep playing at a high level through 2016, give him one or two more if he so desires.

The thought of Ortiz coming to town in Yankee pinstripes or any other uniform is far more sickening than when Damon or Clemens or Boggs did the same. Really, there is no comparison. All of them were great players, but Ortiz took the Sox where nobody since Babe Ruth did before: all the way.

Three is worth two.

For that, he deserves at least two more years -- and fans deserve at least that long to cheer him.

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. 

Watching John Lackey, and Thinking 'bout Dave Roberts

On my mind all the time. (Barry Chin, Boston Globe)

Kenmore Square might have been rocking last night at 7:25, but I couldn't hear a thing. I was in the quietest place in Boston five minutes before a World Series game at Fenway Park -- the library.

Yes, you read that right. Mr. Fenway Reflections himself, who still has a "Thanks Yaz" shirt in the closet and an unopened can of Fenway 100th anniversary grape juice on the shelf (waiting to toast with my family at the 150th), was five miles on the odometer and a million miles in intensity away from Yawkey Way when JT was belting out the National Anthem.

So what on earth was I doing hanging out an empty mausoleum of a room, sans a few librarians tuned in to MLB.com? Well, as Kevin Millar and the rest of the 2004 idiots were throwing out first pitches, I was writing about what was going through Dave Roberts' mind as he readied to steal second base in the ninth inning of Game 4 against the Yankees.

No quiet study room needed last night.

Red Sox Nation may be keyed into the waning days of the 2013 baseball season, but I'm just as entrenched in the '04 campaign. The Sox and Cardinals are now in a best-of-five showdown to determine this year's world champions, and we'll all know the end result no later than Halloween. A few weeks after that, I'll be turning in the manuscript of Miracle at Fenway: An Oral History of the 2004 World Series champion Boston Red Sox.

We'll know the results of that in April, when the book comes out. 

It's been a busy summer and fall as my dual duties have progressed. I've been watching and writing about the Bearded Boys as they've worked their magic in the greatest one-season turnaround by a Red Sox club since 1946, and I've been interviewing members of the 2004 team, front office, and fans all year about the '04 campaign -- which of course included the greatest postseason turnaround in franchise (and MLB) history.

This means I had to turn down or give away tickets to many games down the stretch, and have only eased the rules on a couple occasions: a chance to share joy of the '13 campaign with my Section 30 friend Nancy Wall Farrington in the regular season finale, be an "Honorary K Man" in Game 2 of the ALDS, and take my wife (aka The Reluctant Fan) to her first ALCS game. All were memorable occasions, thanks in large part to Big Papi -- appropriate considering he is the only remaining member of the 2004 team still with the Red Sox.

Two future readers? (Stan Grosfeld, Boston Globe)

(NOTE TO READERS: If anybody wants to sell or give me a ticket (or 2 or 4) to Game 6 or 7, I may be inclined to take them up on the offer, since my last World Series was in 1975.) 

I've tried to always keep my eye on the here and now, updating things on Fenway Reflections when possible and (during the World Series) chatting for a few minutes each day with Bob Seay of NPR's "Morning Edition." I've worn my lucky Jimmy Fund/Red Sox shirt as often as I can, although it needs a karma-changing wash after last night.

Here are some of the things I'm working into the book, which readers will be able to enjoy in full come April:

• The life-altering event early in Jason Varitek's life that likely resulted in his becoming a catcher, and the strange way he heard he was coming to Boston

• Larry Lucchino's first visit to Fenway Park, and the epiphany which indirectly led to the ballpark being saved from the wrecking ball 15 years later

• The real cause of Ellis Burks' injuries that kept him from staying healthy in Boston, and why he decided to come back here a decade after leaving in 2003 as a free agent

• How Tim Wakefield felt when he let up the homer to Aaron Boone in the 2003 ALCS, and how that compared to his emotions after helping whip the Yanks the very next October 

This game was nearly nixed.

• The backstory behind the A-Rod-Varitek fight game, which almost wasn't played

• The man who predicted in an email to Larry Lucchino after Game 2 of the ALCS that the Red Sox would lose Game 3 to the Yankees, and then win four straight

• What (and who) Dave Roberts was thinking about before recording the most important stolen base in Red Sox history

What was on his mind?

• Kevin Millar's take on the pre- and post-game "toasts" during the ALCS

• How Johnny Pesky spent Game 4 of the World Series in St. Louis

• The filming of "Fever Pitch" at Fenway, and the unique concoction Drew Barrymore and Jimmy Fallon shared with local actors after the Series-clincher at Busch Stadium

• The cancer patient who claims the '04 Red Sox saved her sanity and her life

• Where their lives have taken the members of the 2004 club since The Miracle at Fenway

And much, much more.

By the way, I did make it home from the library last night in time to change into my lucky shirt and see the Red Sox bat in the first inning. I spent the game tapping away at my computer (thanks lap table) and making notes for this morning's radio gig. 

One thing I noted was that last night's starter St. Louis Michael Wacha was just 13 years old when his Red Sox counterpart, John Lackey, won Game 7 of the 2002 World Series for the Angels. In fact, all three Cardinals pitchers were likely in bed with their lights out when Big John clinched the '02 title.

So enjoy the remaining days of this year's wild ride, and then spend your Hot Stove months waiting for it all to start again -- and for the opportunity to take a trip back a decade to when this great run of Boston baseball all began.

See you at the library.

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.

Have a laugh, Red Sox fans, and get the good karma working

There is no need to rehash last night's Red Sox-Tigers game, which was awful from a Boston point of view. The important thing is to have good karma going into Game 5 tonight. So here's a little story guaranteed to make you smile and/or laugh, courtesy of my dad:

Two 90-year-old friends, Rose and Barb, had been friends all their lives. When it was clear that Rose was dying, Barb visited her every day. One day Barb said, "Rose, we both loved playing women's softball all our lives, and we played all through high school together too. Please do me one favor: When you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's women's softball there."

Rose looked up at Barb from her deathbed and said, "Barb, you've been my best friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favor for you." Shortly after that, Rose passed on.

At midnight, a few nights later, Barb was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, "Barb, Barb."

"Who is it?" asked Barb, sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"

"Barb, it's me. Rose."

"You're not Rose. Rose just died."

"I'm telling you, it's me, Rose," insisted the voice.

"Rose! Where are you?"

"In Heaven," replied Rose. "I have some really good news and a little bad news." 

"Tell me the good news first," said Barb."

"The good news," Rose said, "is that there's softball in Heaven. Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before me are here, too. Better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always springtime, and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and we never get tired."

"That's fantastic," said Barb. "It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's the bad news?"

"You're pitching Tuesday."