One more (new) reason to love and respect Pedro Martinez

Cherington gets his man. (Getty Images)

The ceremony honoring former Boston College centerfielder and "Ice Bucket Challenge" pioneer Peter Frates before Monday's home opener at Fenway Park was a wonderful touch by Red Sox management, as Frates signed a professional baseball contract with Sox GM Ben Cherington to the delight of a packed house. 

Actually, it was Pete's wife, Julie, who signed the contract. Frates can no longer write due to the ALS that has ravaged his body, but that didn't stop him from smiling while the crowd roared its approval.

There was just one problem with the event, and it came when the long line of current Red Sox players passed by Frates' wheelchair with autographed jerseys. The jerseys, each of them bearing the #3 Frates  wore at BC, had been donned by the team during a spring training game with the Eagles.

While the Sox contingent exchanged hugs, handshakes, and kind words with Julie and others in Pete's family, the man of the hour was seated a few feet back and below eye level from the players. As a result, he had no contact with most of them as they quickly walked by. Rather than hand him their #3 jerseys or drape them across or near his wheelchair, the players were instructed to place them on a table far to his right.

My wife, who has worked with paralyzed patients in wheelchairs for 25 years, noticed this right away. "Somebody should really have put him in better position, and shown those guys how to approach him," Michelle said. 

Even Ortiz looked unsure around Frates. 

She added that the players were likely nervous, unsure whether they would hurt the now-frail Frates if they were to reach out, so most played it safe by keeping their distance.  A few touched a hand to his shoulder, but the well-meaning gestures seemed tentative. 

I was beginning to wish Michelle had not pointed this all out to me when suddenly the roar of the crowd went up several notches. Emerging from the Boston dugout was one more player wishing to pay his respect to Frates -- legendary pitcher and new Hall of Fame inductee Pedro Martinez.

Waving to the crowd, his smile as broad as the guest of honor's, Martinez approached the Frates family and paused to talk with and hug each of them. He took his time, and the exchanges seemed much more poignant than the hurried embraces from the conga line of players that had come before.

First Pete's family gets a hello.

Then Pedro neared Frates' wheelchair. He leaned over, spoke a few words, and grabbed Pete in a bear hug. There was no hesitation -- just respect and love for a fellow ballplayer.

As I watched the scene unfold, I thought back a couple years to when members of the 2004 World Series champion Red Sox visited patients at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. Although all of the players were a hit in the clinics, Martinez had a sincere warmth and playfulness about him that delighted kids and adults alike. 

Now, in front of 37,000 people, he was at it again -- showing compassion to a man facing a a frightening future.

Like Lou Gehrig, for whom ALS gained its second name, Pete Frates most certainly got a tough break. But at that moment, in the arms of a legend, he felt like the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

Nice job, Pedro.

Buchholz, Pedroia bashers seek new tagets after Opening Day

 Been there, done that -- Pedroia after No. 2. (AP)

One was a former MVP prematurely past his prime, his offensive moxie gone thanks to hand injuries and years of over-zealous play. The other was the ultimate tease -- a pitcher with all the stuff in the world but an inability to stay healthy or hungry.

Dustin Pedroia and Clay Buchholz were two big Red Sox question marks during the offseason, with naysayers taking to the sports talk radio airwaves to lament about Pedroia's wilting power numbers and Buchholz's status as an unreliable No 3 starter anointed as a No. 1 purely out of necessity.

Monday night, however, the cynics were noticeably quiet after Boston's 8-0 Opening Day win at Philadelphia. Buchholz's seven shutout innings (with nine strikeouts) were certainly ace-like, while Pedroia was 3-for-5 with two homers from the No. 2 spot in the batting order.

Clay's Day -- Buchholz flattens the Phils.

Manager John Farrell noted after the game that Pedroia's success was no surprise given the additional " freeness in his swing" Farrell noticed during spring training. Last year Pedroia didn't hit his second home run until Mother's Day, and had just 7 all season; if he can get back to the 15- to 20-homer/.850 OPS numbers he displayed in 2008-11, it will provide a huge boost to Boston's offense.

Defense has never been a concern with Pedroia, and the reigning Gold Glove winner was at it again with two great diving plays in the opener. It was, however, the first time in four years that he's had a two-homer game.

Petey brought his glove to work too.

As for Buchholz, the slim right-hander did a lot to silence those who worried he would fail in replacing former Sox ace Jon Lester atop the rotation. Of his 94 pitches, 65 were strikes, and he had his great curveball and change-up working in addition to a 92-mph fastball. 

Buchholz was efficient and dominant, two traits he displayed in streaking to a 9-0 start in 2013 before missing three months with a shoulder injury. He outpitched Phillies ace (and Red Sox rumor-mill favorite) Cole Hamels, who lasted just 5 innings, as well as Lester, who couldn't make it through the fifth in losing his first start for the Cubs on Sunday night.

So with Pedroia and Buchholz both clicking, who can the naysayers turn to now? How about Mookie Betts and his ridiculous near-.450 spring training average, or the over-paid, over-hyped Hanley Ramirez?

Two HR for Hanley -- this one a granny (Globe)

No, that's not going to work either. Betts (2-for-4, 1 HR, 2 runs) and Ramirez (2-for-4, 2 HR, 5 RBI) did pretty well Monday too.

Better make it David Ortiz then. The DH-turned-first baseman was 0-for-4 with three strikeouts in the opener, and this will most certainly be the year age finally creeps up on Big Flabby.

At least for a day.

Theo Epstein, Cubs to Red Sox: "Let's make a really big deal."

Betts and Fenway -- Theo wants them both.

After already adding more than a dozen former Red Sox onto his 40-man roster and coaching staff,  Cubs general manager Theo Epstein is determined to continue the trend in his quest to take Chicago's NL club to its first World Series appearance since 1945.

In a series of overtures Wednesday afternoon to his friend and successor Ben Cherington, Epstein made it clear he was willing to do whatever necessary to get the Cubs back to the Series and a chance at their first world championship since 1908.

"I believe Mookie Betts has what it takes to put us over the top," said Epstein, "and I think he's worth a starting lineup in trade." 

This is exactly what Epstein offered Cherington for Boston's .467-hitting center fielder, Chicago's entire projected starting lineup plus ace pitcher Jon Lester -- who, of course, the Cubs signed as a free agent over the winter after he helped the Red Sox to two World Series titles.

Could Lester be coming back?

"Did you ever see that old Bugs Bunny cartoon where he plays all nine positions at once and beats a team of Babe Ruth-types single-handedly?" Espstein told a reporter. "We want Betts to be our Bugs."

Although three major leaguers have played all nine positions in one game -- Bert Campaneris, Cesar Tovar, and Scott Sheldon -- nobody has ever played all nine at the same time. To do so, Betts would have to use his terrific speed to sprint from one spot to the other on the diamond faster than the ball.

Bugs could do it -- how about Betts?

Asked if he would consider the trade, Cherington said only that "we are always open to discussion with other teams," but with Betts already being compared to the likes of 2013 National League MVP Andrew McCutchen after just 52 games of major league experience, it is likely Boston's GM will hang on to his 22-year-old phenom.

Epstein also proposed a pair of additional trades Wednesday: Wrigley Field for Fenway Park and mascot Clark the Cub for Wally the Green Monster. Cherington had no comment on either offer.

Theo will throw in the ivy too.

In 1975, Tony Conigliaro was the story of spring training

Yaz and Tony C, together again

Each Red Sox spring training a new underdog emerges as a surprise in camp, and all but forces management to keep him on the roster with a string of standout performances.

The hits often stop coming once the regular season starts (see Jackie Bradley Jr., 2013), but for a brief moment or two in the sun these unlikely heroes are a great source of discussion for columnists and sports talk radio callers. 

Forty winters ago, the biggest offseason news in the American League was Hank Aaron's trade to the Milwaukee Brewers after 20 years in the NL with the Braves. Meanwhile, in Winter Haven, Fla., another former home run king showed up at Boston's spring training camp under far different circumstances. 

He had been away from the major leagues for more than three years, but talked his way into a tryout and even offered to pay his own way to Florida. The Red Sox said that wasn't necessary, management would pick up the tab for the 30-year-old hopeful.

Hopeful: 1975

Of course this wasn't just any hopeful. This was Tony C.

Tony Conigliaro, born in Revere and raised a few miles from Fenway Park dreaming of a spot in the Red Sox lineup, had lived that dream and then some. He was signed by his hometown club out of St. Mary's High in Lynn and had an outstanding first year in the minors with Waterloo. 

Portrait of a young slugger.

He first made spring training headlines in 1964, when his slugging prowess against big-league hurlers prompted manager Johnny Pesky to declare him ready for the majors just a few months after his 19th birthday.

Pesky was right. Conig hit 24 home runs as a rookie, 32 to lead the AL in 1965, and slugged his 100th career blast during the magical '67 season -- making him the youngest American Leaguer ever to reach that plateau. His sweet right-handed swing was made for Fenway, and he looked like a 500-homer man for sure.

If that wasn't enough, he also cut rock records and had a face made for Hollywood. Every Boston boy wanted to be Tony C., and every Boston girl wanted to date him.

It's a happy birthday for Tony.

One pitch that hit Conigliaro squarely in the face on Aug. 18, 1967 changed everything. It nearly killed him, severely damaged his left eye, and kept him out of the thrilling AL pennant race and the World Series. Doctors predicted he would never play again. 

He defied the odds, rebounding after more than a year off to hit 20 homers for the Red Sox in 1969 and 36 (along with 116 RBI) in '70 -- even though he later admitted he could only see out of his good eye. 

Star-crossed: Brothers Billy (left) and Tony C.

Management likely suspected his secret, and gambled that Tony couldn't keep it up by trading him to the California Angels after the 1970 season in one of the most unpopular deals in team history. 

They were right, however; things never jelled for Conig out west and he retired midway through '71 with his eyesight getting worse. Tony came home, took up karate, and opened a nightclub with his brother and former Boston outfield partner Billy. Most figured that was the end of the story.

Airbrushed Angel, 1971

Now here was Tony C. again, back alongside his old teammates Carl Yastrzemski and Rico Petrocelli laboring under the Florida sun in those softball-style '75 uniforms. His left eye had checked out OK -- his doctor called the recovery "a miracle" -- and Boston needed more pop in its lineup. 

If Conigliaro could recapture the old magic, general manager Dick O'Connell promised, he had a good chance to make the club as a designated hitter or outfielder.

Dick O'Connell believed in Tony.

And while he didn't exactly crush the ball in spring training, Tony C. did hit well enough early on to force management's hand. As Bostonians were recovering from more than 17 inches of snow, their hearts were warmed when O'Connell signed Conigliaro to a contract with Triple A Pawtucket on March 5, 1975. 

"If he makes good during the spring," the GM told reporters, "he will then be given a contract with us."

A 5-for-8, 5-RBI spree over the final couple games of the exhibition schedule helped Conigliaro's cause, and on April 4 the Red Sox announced he had made the team's 25-man MLB roster. He was in the lineup as the DH against Aaron and the Brewers on Opening Day at Fenway Park, and had a single in his first time up. 

Asked if he could have imagined a year earlier that he and Aaron would be together like this, Tony C. smiled. "The only way would be if he came to my nightclub."

Aaron and Anthony: Opening Day, 1975

Conigliaro was back where he belonged. He hit his first homer a few days later -- his first in an MLB game in nearly four years -- and Yastrzemski told reporters that "There's no question that Tony is going to really help us." All of New England was rooting along with Yaz. This would be the comeback of all comebacks.

In the end, it just didn't happen. Conigliaro struggled, rookie Jim Rice took over as the regular DH, and despite continuing to get huge ovations each time he stepped to the plate at Fenway, Tony C. couldn't get his sweet swing back. In June, with his average at .123, management gave him a choice -- accept a trade, go to the minor leagues, or be released. 

He wanted to play in the majors, but when no other teams were interested, he opted for Pawtucket. After more struggles there including a .220 average and back spasms, he quit for good on August 21 and announced he was taking a job as a TV sports broadcaster with Channel 10 in Providence. 

A new career

Conigliaro looked forward to a long new career, but this wouldn't come to be either. He suffered a massive heart attack and irreversible brain damage in 1982, at age 37, and spent the rest of his life under the care of his family before dying in 1990 -- right around the time he might have been making his Hall of Fame induction speech had life dealt him different cards. 

"If I thought the Red Sox would ever need me, I'd keep playing," Conigliaro said during a press conference at his Nahant bar when he quit in the summer of '75. "But they certainly don't need me."

He was wrong. Boston was in first place at the time, and would wind up winning the AL East and the pennant behind the dynamic rookie duo of Rice and Fred Lynn. 

But Boston always needed Tony C.    

      

       


    

Spring training on the radio: Mookie Betts and MC Hammer

Don't get the connection? Listen in.

There is a casual feel to spring training games on the radio that puts one at ease, as banter about young hopefuls and new faces can quickly dissolve into topics beyond baseball. Nobody cares much about the score, especially once the starters have left the game, so broadcasters do what they can to keep themselves and their audience interested. 

Such it was in the late innings of last night's Red Sox-Yankees game, as Joe Castiglione and Rob Bradford began peppering their WEEI broadcast with sports, music, and pop culture references going back a half century. 

When center fielder Mason Williams came up for the Yankees in the top of the seventh, Castiglione noted that he was not only the son of former Patriots wide receiver Derwin Williams, but also the great nephew of former big leaguer Walt "No Neck" Williams -- whose baseball cards, Joe attested, made clear the reason for his nickname.

OK, we get it

While Williams was busy doubling in two runs to give New York a 5-2 lead, Castiglione the old disc jockey went one step further. He explained that another Mason Williams, apparently no relation, was a musician who had notched a few hits of his own back in the day -- including the instrumental smash "Classical Gas" in 1968. 

Castiglione and Bradford agreed that the grammy-winning masterpiece would be a great walk-up song for this Mason Williams.

The Yanks scored three in the seventh to go ahead 3-2, and when 5-foot-9 Mookie Betts came up in the bottom of the frame, Joe speculated on whether he and on-deck batter Sean Coyle (5-foot-8) might be the shortest 1-2 tandem in the major leagues this season. He might be right, unless someone signs up Freddie Patek.

Sean Coyle -- short but sweet.

Bradford added that he had heard from Jon Tomase of the Boston Herald that Coyle had learned to hit by studying Ted Williams' book, The Science of Hitting -- required reading for all Little Leaguers born in the 1950s and '60s but largely forgotten in the cellphone era.

I've still got my copy.

Ever wonder what happened to your copy of the old poster from Ted's book that showed his favorite spots in the strike zone? Well, one hung for a long time in the Red Sox clubhouse, Bradford told us, and may in fact still be there -- although now a refrigerator blocks it from view.

C'mon, move the fridge.

Brian Johnson came in to pitch for the Sox in the eighth, and Bradford mentioned that the big left-hander is a favorite of Boston media members not only because he works extremely fast on the mound, but also because his mother was a "Doublemint twin" in the iconic TV commercials. This delighted Joe, who surmised that based on the pitcher's age, his mom and aunt must have been in one of the later ads extolling the virtues of Doublemint gum. 

   Double your pleasure -- 1980s style.

By this point low-level minor leaguers were filling the boxscore. Bradford joked that he had not seen this many unrecognizable Yankees in one game since the Richard Pryor movie "Brewster's Millions" (in which Pryor plays a minor-league pitcher who faces the Yanks in an exhibition contest). 

As catcher Jake Cave stepped up for New York, Bradford quipped, "Who do you think is the worst catcher in motion picture history?" For his money, John Candy in "Brewster's Millions" had to be the winner. 

Pryor and Candy: anything is game.

All the movie talk reminded Castiglione that New York manager Joe Girardi told him before the game that he had passed the afternoon watching a video of the 1978 Red Sox-Yankees playoff (also known as the Bucky Dent Game). Bradford asked if he thought Girardi was needling him, but Castiglione said he didn't think so. "I told him we got over that in 2004." 

Walk-up songs got one more mention when Castiglione told Bradford that his friend Jeffrey Lyons the film critic had emailed him to say Joe's walk-up song should be "You Can't Touch This." Castiglione not only knew this was an MC Hammer tune, but also that Hammer had originally started out life as Stanley Burrell -- a young batboy and front-office worker with the Oakland A's of the 1970s. 

MC Hammer and Hammerin Hank

Naturally, both "Can't Touch This" and "Classical Gas" were played as lead-ins after commercial breaks between half-innings. "He can find anything," Castiglione proudly said of Red Sox Radio producer Paddy O'Day. 

O'Day couldn't find the Red Sox a way to make up the deficit, however, and New York hung on for a 5-3 win. Bradford and Castiglione agreed that Mookie Betts (2-for-2 with a great catch) had been the Red Sox star of the night, but Bradford found a more interesting stat to share with listeners: "There are 27 guys on the Yankees wearing #60 or higher."

Too bad that wasn't the case in 1978. 

     

Love and Logic: Leonard Nimoy and the Boston Red Sox

Call to the bullpen: Pedro is gassed.

He gained fame traveling among the stars of Hollywood and the United Federation of Planets, but Leonard Nimoy -- who died Feb. 27 -- was at his roots a Boston boy whose life in many ways paralleled that of his hometown baseball team.

Nimoy fell in love with theater while growing up in the West End neighborhood near the Boston Garden. He found time between productions to help support his family by selling newspapers near Boston Common, where his competitors most likely included two other sons of immigrants -- twin brothers Arthur and Henry D'Angelo -- who later became known as owners of the Red Sox superstore Twins Enterprises.

(If you've never heard of the West End, that's because it no longer exists -- it was torn down in the name of urban renewal in the early 1960s and replaced with high-rise apartments and the Central Artery Expressway.) 

Portrait of a young fan.

Young Leonard began attending games at Fenway Park when Ted Williams was at his peak in the 1940s. He recalled seeing The Kid homer on more than one occasion, and likely had a special spot in his heart for Boston's nine-language-speaking bullpen catcher Moe Berg as a fellow brainy Jewish kid from a humble background. 

By the time Ted left for the Marines in 1952, Nimoy had too -- spurning his parents' wishes of a medical or law career by heading to California in search of stardom. It didn't come quickly, and while driving a cab to make ends meet Nimoy once picked up a fellow Hub native who peppered him with questions about life back home: John F. Kennedy. Since both were baseball fans, it's likely that the Red Sox were one topic of conversation.

Taxicab encounter: Two commanders

Like the Sox, Nimoy struggled during the next 15 years before finally making it big in 1967. While Boston shocked the baseball world that summer with its improbable ninth-to-first "Impossible Dream" team, Nimoy became an out-of-this-world superstar as half-human, half-Vulcan Mr. Spock. He took advantage of his popularity on "Star Trek" by dabbling in a second career as a singer, but just as Boston outfielder Tony Conigliaro discovered with "Little Red Scooter," Nimoy's crooning "The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins" didn't make anybody clamor for him to quit his primary job.

Listen if you dare.

After their glorious revival of '67 the Red Sox slumped a bit the next few years, during which "Star Trek" was canceled, but both the ballclub and Nimoy's career  had a resurgence in the late 1970s. The adventures of Spock, Captain Kirk, and their Enterprise crew hit the big screen at the same time the Red Sox were annually battling the Yankees for American League East supremacy. 

He never found Babe's piano either.

One wishes a coach employing Vulcan logic could have been on hand in 1978 to stop Don Zimmer from banishing Bill Lee from the rotation or sending up Bob Bailey to face Goose Gossage, but Nimoy was too busy furthering the "Star Trek" franchise and narrating the hit TV show "In Search of..." There he looked for Big Foot, Amelia Earhart, and the Loch Ness Monster, but Boston fans would have been happier had he sought out more pitching.

Another revival came in the late 1980s -- three division titles and a pennant for the Red Sox and a blockbuster film directed by Nimoy: "Three Men and a Baby." One of the movie's stars, coincidentally, was Ted Danson, who had previously made a name for himself playing washed-up Boston relief ace Sam "Mayday" Malone on "Cheers." 

It must have been exasperating for a man of Nimoy's intelligence to endure the string of excruciating and seemingly preventable Red Sox setbacks during this period. Spock may have lacked emotions, but the man behind the ears had to feel the pain.

Would a well-timed Vulcan nerve pinch have kept John McNamara from leaving Bill Buckner in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, or Grady Little from taking out Pedro in the '03 ALCS? One can only speculate, but it sure would have been fun to try.

Take that, Grady!

By the time the Red Sox finally broke through in Stardate 2004, "Star Trek" was into its third generation of fans and Nimoy as Spock had become a pop culture icon of the highest order. His reaction to Boston's incredible comeback against the Yankees in the ALCS is not documented, but he was likely not surprised. 

After all, the Red Sox had that season briefly employed a pitcher, Joe Nelson, whose best pitch was known as a "Vulcan Changeup."

Now that's logical.

     

Only one Red Sox playoff game truly matches Super Bowl XLIX

The Sox equivalent? That goes back a ways.

For the past week, Boston sports media pundits from Felger and Mazz to Dan Shaughnessy to Steve Buckley have weighed in about which past Boston sporting events are worthy of comparison to Super Bowl XLIX. 

The way last Sunday night's game unfolded -- with the Patriots trailing Seattle 24-14 in the fourth quarter, rallying to go ahead in the last two minutes, having that lead all but stolen back in the final MINUTE, and then turning the table a final time on the most unlikely of goal-line interceptions -- made it an instant classic. New England's 28-24 victory sealed the legacy of Tom Brady and Bill Belichick, and assured rookie cornerback Malcolm Butler, author of the Pick-Heard-'Round-the-World, that his days working at Popeye's were over for good.

Seattle Coach Pete Carroll was immediately lambasted for not calling a second-down running play for bruising back Marshawn Lynch or mobile QB Russell Wilson, a move which brought logical comparisons in these parts to Red Sox managers Grady Little and John MacNamara. (If you have to ask, you're reading the wrong blog.) I admit conjuring up images of Mac and Grady myself as the euphoria turned to disbelief over why Carroll chose to throw in that situation.

Great, but not the best.

Butler, in contrast, was the game's unlikely hero -- a Dave Henderson or Dave Roberts in shoulder pads. But while Hendu's homer in the 1986 ALCS and Roberts' steal in the 2004 showdown with the Yankees proved pivitol points in thrilling victories, and ranked at or near the top of most of the lists this week, neither sealed a victory or a championship. Both, in fact, came in the fifth game of seven-game series.

Ditto.

To truly match the ramifications of Sunday's game, you have to go much further back in Red Sox history. In fact, the only time the Sox clinched a world championship in the final moments of an all-or-nothing contest was during Fenway Park's first postseason: the 1912 World Series between Boston and the New York Giants.

Like this year's Super Bowl, the Fall Classic of '12 had everything needed to generate fan and media buzz. There were two ace pitchers -- classy veteran Christy Mathewson of the Giants and young fireballer Smoky Joe Wood of the Red Sox -- filling in the Brady and Wilson roles. A legendary boss occupied one dugout (manager John McGraw of the Giants as Belichick) who an eager adversary (player-manager Jack Stahl of the Sox as Carroll) hoped to topple.

Wood and Mathewson: Calm before the storm

There were even battling crowds to throw  into the mix. The fierce rivalry between New York and Boston baseball fans was already well established, and the Red Sox "Royal Rooters" had their own brass band and were led by Boston Mayor John "Honey Fitz" Fitzgerald -- grandfather of future president John F. Kennedy.

The Giants were heavy favorites entering the Series, but through seven games the Sox had managed to split six contests with one darkness-induced tie. For the eighth and deciding game at Fenway, Mathewson faced Boston's Hugh Bedient on a cold, damp afternoon. Wood, who had pitched the day before, was ready in the bullpen. 

New York went up 1-0 in the third inning, but failed to capitalize on several chances to expand their lead. Mathewson was hurling a shutout into the seventh when Stahl manged to bloop a single to center and came around to score on a double down the left-field line -- which then included a sloping hill directly in front of the ad-plastered fence.

Christy Mathewson: Brady in a baseball cap.

It was still 1-1 after nine innings, and the skies were darkening as the Giants came up in the tenth. Wood had relieved Bedient, and New York got to him on a Red Murray double and a run-scoring single by Fred Merkle (remember the name). The final out of the frame was a hot shot to the mound off Wood's hand; Smokey Joe managed to get the out at first, but Stahl was forced to pinch-hit for his ace (a .290 batter) leading off the bottom of the 10th.

Clyde Engle, a weak slap-hitter, was overmatched against Mathewson. He hit a fly ball to center, which Fred Snodgrass settled under for a seemingly easy out -- until it popped out of his glove. Engle took second, and got to third on a deep line drive by Harry Hooper which Snodgrass managed to spear for a then-game-saving play.

The tying run was now 90 feet away. Another weak hitter, Steve Yerkes, was up next, but a rattled Mathewson inexplicably walked him. Tris Speaker, the AL's top batsman, now stepped in, and Matty appeared to win the best-on-best battle by inducing a foul pop to the right side. First baseman Fred Merke was closest to the ball, but for reasons unknown -- some reports claimed Mathewson called him off -- it fell untouched. 

Fate dealt its cards.

Given another life, Speaker singled in Engle and took second on an unsuccessful throw to third to try and nab Yerkes. Mathewson should have been celebrating a championship by this point, but now was just hoping to get out of the inning with a 2-2 tie. He walked Duffy Lewis to load the bases and set up a force out at home, but Larry Gardner's fly ball was deep enough to score Yerkes with the series-clinching run.

Joe Wood -- 34-5 in 1912, 3-1 in the World Series

The two New York miscues would haunt those who made them for the rest of their careers, with "Snodgrass' Muff" entering the baseball lexicon. It's too early to tell if Carroll will ever be exonerated for having Wilson throw from the one-yard-line, but unless he wins another Super Bowl or two it will almost surely be in the headline of his obituary -- as was the case with Snodgrass.

Gardner's game-winning hit was not a stirring play like Butler's interception, but, as Belichek would say, it got the job done. It also helped spark a Red Sox dynasty, as Boston claimed additional World Series titles in 1915, 1916, and 1918 with the help of a young pitcher named George Herman Ruth. 

Gardner was around for three of the titles, while Hooper was on board for all four -- a record he now shares with Tom Brady for the most world championships won by a Boston pro athlete not on the Celtics (who, with 11 titles between 1957-1969, had a full roster's worth of players achieve the feat). You can win yourself a few bar bets with that one.

Now, it would seem, the pressure is on David Ortiz. As the sole member of the current Red Sox team who was on the 2004, ,2007, and 2013 champions, Ortiz can match Brady and Hooper with his next title. 

One thing is sure -- it won't take him an eight-game series to get it.

Brady now has four -- how about Papi?