Fenway's Walk of Life

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tito did the right thing -- twice

I was not a fan of Terry Francona's forced resignation last fall, and recent events have only solidified my feelings about the most successful manager in Red Sox history.

When Francona announced last week that he was not going to attend Friday's 100th birthday celebration for Fenway Park, my initial reaction was a mix of sadness and respect. I was disappointed fans wouldn't get the chance to give Tito a healing ovation like the one Bill Buckner received before throwing out the first pitch on Opening Day of 2008, but I admired the reason behind Francona's decision.

Why, after all, should Tito accept an invitation from an owner who apparently didn't even have the class to return his numerous phone calls after last fall's unfortunate events? "I just can't go back there and start hugging people and stuff without feeling a little bit hypocritical," Francona told Boston Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy, and I understood his reasoning loud and clear.

Then some days passed, and my feelings started to shift. Sure, Francona had every reason to be mad, hurt, and angry at John Henry and Co., but the Fenway event wasn't going to be about the owners -- it was about the players and the people who have cheered them through the decades.

As the man who was at the helm and in the dugout for some of the ballpark's greatest moments, Francona belonged there on this grandest of Fenway days. He had made his point and embarrassed those who embarrassed him; now, I hoped, he might change his mind and come after all.

In the end, that's exactly what Francona did. By revealing on Wednesday that he would indeed attend the celebration because he owed it to the fans, he was thanking those who had supported him during his eight seasons in Boston. He was also sending a clear message to ownership: I'm not doing it for you.

I do not yet find myself enamored of Bobby Valentine, and while I certainly hope he can turn things around, I feel a little sorry for the situation he's going to face Friday. Not only will Bobby V. be sharing the Fenway stage with the leader of Boston's last two World Series champions, but he'll also be sharing it with the team's most vindicated ex-employee -- and it's the same guy.

Sox heat up Fenway (and set off the fire alarms) in Home Opener

Once we all figured out the irony of what was happening, it was good for a laugh. In the eighth inning of Friday's home opener, during which the Red Sox scored eight runs and sent 14 men to the plate, the smoke alarms and flashing emergency lights began going off throughout Fenway Park.

It was as "hot" a display of hitting as the team has shown during the early season, so this type of reaction was humorously fitting. Even funnier was when the inning ended and "Burning Down the House" came over the loudspeakers.

After a terrible first week on the road, Friday the 13th offered a wonderful antidote for Red Sox fans with great weather and a near-perfect 12-2 Opening Day win at Fenway.

There wasn't too much pomp and circumstance before the game -- Dr. Charles and Co. are no doubt saving their best top-secret stuff for the100th birthday bash vs. the Yankees on April 20th -- but we did get the obligatory full team introductions from Joe Castiglione including video men, therapists, nutritionists, and accountants (just kidding on the last one). I noticed Joe didn't mention any Japanese interpreters this year, although I imagine one will be back on the payroll if and when Dice-K comes back.

New manager Bobby Valentine got a lukewarm reception, as did starting pitcher Josh Beckett. (The way both had started the season, this was not shocking.) In contrast, the crowd stood and cheered for several minutes as Jason Varitek and Tim Wakefield emerged from underneath a huge American flag draped over the Green Monster and walked slowly to the mound for their ceremonial first pitches.

Although personally I would have preferred that Wake throw a nice knuckler to Tek, having Jim Rice and Dwight Evans come out as surprise catchers for the honorees was pretty cool too. It was announced that both Varitek and Wakefield would each be receiving their own "appropriate, individual evenings" later in the season (the right move), and then legend-in-residence Johnny Pesky came out to start the year with a "Play Ball!" yell. Johnny (see at right) needed the help of a couple attendants to make it to the microphone, and at 92 1/2 Mr. Red Sox is finally starting to look his age.

Beckett, shelled in his first start of the year at Detroit, wound up being one of the day's two best stories. He let up a couple loud doubles and trailed 1-0 through two innings, but then allowed just two singles over his last six frames while throwing an economical 94 pitches on the afternoon. His teammates gave him a 4-1 lead by the fourth, and if they had not gone on their long eighth-inning tear, it's likely Beckett would have gotten a shot at a complete game. (Oddly, he had just one strikeout, but nobody seemed to notice or mind.)

The other big plus was the play of Kelly Shoppach, who got a rare start at catcher and made the most of it. In addition to working well with Beckett, he reached base four times on two doubles, a single, and a hit-by-pitch, scored three runs, and drove it two. He even had the first stolen base of his 464-game ML career, which featured an ugly slide and lunge that looked like something out of "Blades of Glory."

By now you probably know the only real bad news of the day. In the fourth inning, while trying to break up a double play, Jacoby Ellsbury was hit in the shoulder by leaping shortstop Reid Brignac and forced to leave the game. While the full extent of the injury would not be released until Sunday, rumors were that Ells has suffered a dislocation and would be out six-to-eight weeks. (See the play here.)

How the Sox will fare without their leadoff man remains to be seen, but if Josh Beckett can keep pitching like he did Friday, that will help keep the team "hot" -- and (hopefully) keep away the 1-5 stretches.

Opening Day Agenda: Get a Fenway Book Signed, See Red Sox Win

Looking for an excuse to sneak out of work or school even a little earlier than normal on Opening Day? I've got just the ticket!

Friday,  from 11:30 a.m.-1:30 p.m., I'll be signing copies of Fenway Park: The Centennial at the B.U. Bookstore -- the Kenmore Square Barnes & Noble just a block from Yawkey Way. http://bit.ly/I2sstL Come say hi and pick up your personalized copy, and then head on over to Fenway for the 2:05 p.m. game and see the Red Sox start turning their season around against the Rays.

Want to make time for lunch? After leaving the bookstore, stop in at Popeyes enroute to Fenway for a little pregame dining and reading -- and then bring your leftovers to the park in case Josh Beckett gets hungry between innings.

So be like Wally and pick up the book that recently graced the cover of the Boston Phoenix and NESN called "an in-depth, stunning and engaging look at 'America's Most Beloved Ballpark.'"

GO SOX!

Tigers-Red Sox Opening Day...Remember what happened in '86?

The first hint that 1986 was going to be a special year (hey, they did win the pennant) for the Red Sox came on Opening Day at old Tiger Stadium, when leadoff man Dwight Evans hammered the first pitch from Jack Morris for a home run. Since the game was the first of the season on the MLB schedule, this gave Dewey a unique record that can never be broken -- the "earliest" homer ever to start a season.

Now, as the Sox and Tigers prepare to square off in Detroit to start the 2012 season, it seems an appropriate time to reflect on Evans, one of the greatest Red Sox players of all time and one of the most underrated in baseball history. I could go on and on about what Dewey belongs in the Hall of Fame, but my friend Patrick Languzzi can do that far better than me. Check out Patrick's brand-new blog at http://call2thehall.blogspot.com/ and see the fantastic case he makes for enshrining this world-class right fielder and hitter in Cooperstown.

Let the games begin.

Where does Ellsbury's 2011 rank among all-time Red Sox lead-off seasons?

We're all wondering what Bobby Valentine's Opening Day lineup is going to look like, and while the new skipper isn't divulging anything yet, there is speculation among fans that Jacoby Ellsbury will be vacating the lead-off spot. If he does, he'll be a tough No. 1 man to top.

The Sox were a major disappointment in 2011, but Ellsbury -- already a proven hitter and two-time stolen base champ -- emerged as a superstar. The fleet center fielder batted .321 with 32 homers, 39 steals, and 105 RBI, great numbers for anybody but outstanding for someone who spent 144 of his 158 games atop the batting order. When the rest of the team was free-falling, he hit .358 with 8 homers in September.

Throw in his Gold Glove, and it's no surprise Ells was runner up to Justin Verlander in the MVP voting. How does Ellsbury's season rank among the best by Red Sox leadoff man in history? Let's take a look at the Top 10:

10. Patsy Dougherty, 1903:  http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/doughpa01.shtml When talking great Sox leadoff men, it makes sense to start with one of the first. Dougherty patrolled left field for Boston at the old Huntington Avenue Grounds, and in 1903 he helped the Sox (then known as the Americans) to the AL pennant with a .331 average and a league-best 195 hits and 107 runs scored. 


He wasn't done yet. In the first modern World Series that followed, Dougherty hit Boston's only two home runs as the Sox prevailed in eight games over Pittsburgh. 

9. Jerry Remy, 1982: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/remyje01.shtml The Fall River, Mass. native was just 25 when he first suited up for the Red Sox, but injuries prevented the speedy, steady second baseman from a lengthy career. The '82 season was an exception, as the 5'8" Remy managed to get into 155 games and bat .280 with 16 steals from the top of the order.

8. Rick Burleson, 1977: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/burleri01.shtml The "Rooster" did not have the speed of a prototypical leadoff man, but this slick-fielding shortstop with a rifle arm was the Dustin Pedroia of his day—a 165-pound hell-raiser who was always at the center of the action. In '77, setting the table for a powerful Red Sox lineup that led the majors with 213 home runs, Burleson hit .293 with his usual stellar defense.

7. Harry Hooper, 1918: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hoopeha01.shtml Hooper covered the right side of Boston's "Golden Outfield" that also included left fielder Duffy Lewis and center fielder Tris Speaker. A consistent .280 hitter with speed and outstanding defensive skills, Hooper led off for four World Series champions in Boston—more than any other Red Sox player.

In 1918 he hit just .235, but was among the American League’s top 10 in doubles, triples, runs scored and stolen bases as Boston claimed its last Series win of the pre-curse era. In 1971, Hooper made the Hall of Fame.

6. Wade Boggs, 1984: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/boggswa01.shtml Wade Boggs usually batted second or third in the Red Sox lineup, but in '84 the future Hall of Famer was predominantly

in the leadoff spot in front of sluggers Dwight Evans, Jim Rice and Tony Armas. 

This was actually an "off" year for Boggs at the plate, as The Chicken Man batted .325 to finish third in the American League. It was the only year between 1983-88 that he didn't win the AL batting title, but he still had his customary 200 hits and 100 runs scored—good enough numbers to make this list.

5. Billy Weber, 1934: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/werbebi01.shtml Among the first of many players purchased by new Red Sox owner Tom Yawkey in 1933-34, third baseman Werber (on left above, with manager Joe Cronin) had a terrific debut season at Fenway—leading the AL in batting, stolen bases and runs scored for most of the '34 season atop the Boston order.

A broken toe suffered when he kicked a heavy water bucket in the dugout after a bad at-bat slowed Werber down late in the year, but he still finished with a .321 average, 200 hits, 41 doubles, 10 triples and a league-best 40 steals. He later topped another impressive list, achieving status as the oldest former major leaguer before his January 2009 death at age 100.

4. Dom DiMaggio, 1950: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dimagdo01.shtml Usually considered by those who saw them all play to be the best defensive player among the three slick-fielding DiMaggio brothers—and one of the best center fielders in history—Dom was also an exceptional leadoff man for the great near-miss Red Sox teams of 1946-50.

The 1950 season was no exception, as the "Little Professor" led the AL with 131 runs scored, 11 triples and 15 stolen bases while batting .328 setting the table for buddies Johnny Pesky, Ted Williams and Bobby Doerr. If it had not been for the three years he spent in the service during World War II, Dom might have joined Bobby, Ted and brother Joe in the Hall of Fame.

3. Tommy Harper, 1973: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/harpeto01.shtml After Werber's 40 steals in 1934, it took nearly 40 years for another Red Sox player to crack the 30 mark in one season. When he did, Harper was far from finished.

The left fielder swiped 54 bags as Boston's lead-off man in '73, breaking Tris Speaker's 1912 team record of 52 and leading the American League. Harper also hit with power, cracking 17 homers and collecting 71 RBI. Like Speaker, his team steals record would stand a long time—until obliterated by Ellsbury's 70 in 2009.

2. Nomar Garciaparra, 1997: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/garcino01.shtml Before he became a chiseled Sports Illustrated cover boy, Nomar Garciaparra started out his big-league life as a lean leadoff man during his rookie year of 1997.

Everybody knew he had a strong glove, but the shortstop amazed everyone with his bat. He had 30 home runs and 98 RBI—the latter a record for a leadoff batter—and led the AL with 209 hits and 11 triples. He also scored 122 runs, had 22 stolen bases and had a 30-game hit streak. "Nomah" was a unanimous choice for Rookie of the Year, and his days as a leadoff man were soon over.

1. Jacoby Ellsbury, 2011: http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/e/ellsbja01.shtml It's hard for a No. 1 batter to top a year like Nomah had in '97, but Ellsbury gets the edge for his '11 campaign.

In becoming the first 30-30 man in the 110-year history of the Red Sox, Ellsbury led the AL with 364 total bases and compiled a .552 slugging percentage. And while he couldn't edge out Justin Verlander for MVP, he was a runaway choice for AL Comeback Player of the Year after playing in just 18 games during 2010 due to injuries.

Will Ells be back atop the Boston order in 2012, or will his potent bat tempt Valentine to drop him down a few slots to the middle of the lineup? As of early March, Bobby V. isn't saying.

Tek, Wake, and the March to Middle Age

Clearing snow off my windshield in the shadow of Fenway Park, I listened to Jason Varitek’s retirement speech on the cranked-up car radio. Tek’s voice cracked at the mention of his daughters and teammates, and I felt something crack inside me as well.

At the time I thought it was just sadness over a second two-time Red Sox champion hanging up his spikes in as many weeks. In retrospect, I realized it was something far more meaningful.

As a just-miss baby boomer born in April of 1967, my life as a Sox fan can be measured through the careers of four special players.

From the time I played with hot wheels through the time I got my first real wheels, Carl Yastrzemski was spinning his bat and tugging at his pants in the Fenway batter’s box. The spring after Yaz hung up his cleats in ’83, a brash young flamethrower from Texas emerged to provide great thrills for the next dozen years – blowing away batters as I moved through high school, college, and my early years as a sportswriter. 

I was often far from Boston in those days, but even in the sticks of Jamesville, New York, or Frederick, Maryland, a glance at a newspaper pitching line that started with “Clemens” was all I needed to feel the rush of Yawkey Way. I eventually scored a big-city job and a relationship I thought would last forever; when the latter didn't, I left the former and returned to Boston and the next phase of my life.

This was the summer of '95. Rumors were swirling that Clemens would be leaving town at season's end, and I was among the horde giving him a standing ovation as he left what would be his last Fenway start that September. But as one pitching stalwart departed, another emerged.

Tim Wakefield was more flutter than fire, but he still made hitters look foolish in starting his Red Sox career 14-1. He was also just a few months older than myself, and since he looked and acted more like a “regular guy” than a star ballplayer, I took an instant liking to him. He took my mind off my heartbreak.

Just a month after Wake and the Sox were bounced from the playoffs that fall, I met my wife. And just a month after we got engaged in June of '97, Boston GM Dan Duquette made the heist of the decade in picking up pitcher Derek Lowe and catcher Jason Varitek from the Mariners for underachieving bullpen ace Heathcliff Slocumb.

Wakefield and Varitek would remain with the team through the next 15 seasons -- a period of dramatic change for the team and myself. I got married, bought a house, and watched the birth of my children just a few blocks from Fenway. I didn't name my son Jason (born in spring training of 2001) after Boston's gritty catcher, but I didn't mind if some people thought so. And when the Red Sox rallied to beat the Blue Jays the night of my daughter's August 16, 2004, birth, and on the next day as well behind a Varitek home run, it started a 22-3 stretch I deemed "The Rachel Effect."

Rachel and Jason were both watching with me when Varitek leaped into Keith Foulke's arms that October, and again when Tek and Jonathan Papelbon danced for joy three years later. Wakefield was also a big part of those World Series teams, of course, and my respect for him grew as I became a firsthand witness to the time and joy he brought young cancer patients in the Jimmy Fund Clinic at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. This, I explained to my kids, was the sign of a real hero.

Most people hoped their trips to Fenway coincided with a Pedro Martinez or Jon Lester start, and while I certainly enjoyed watching these men at work, I also loved seeing Wake take the hill. You never knew what you were going to get, nor did the batters, but his efforts were a lesson in determination. Varitek was also a pleasure to observe, as much for his take-charge attitude behind the plate as for his clutch hitting.

Long before most people took notice of his growing victory total, I began telling my kids and anybody else who would listen that Wakefield had a chance to win more games than any other Red Sox pitcher. After all, I implored, fellow knuckleballer Hoyt Wilhelm had lobbed them up until he was nearly 50. I also had high hopes for Varitek managing to scrape together enough homers and All-Star selections to merit Hall of Fame consideration.

Neither of them quite reached these goals, but even if they don't make it to Cooperstown they both hold a special place on my list of all-time favorite Red Sox. Just as Yaz defined my youth and Clemens my early adulthood, Jason Varitek and Tim Wakefield carried me through to the cusp of middle age. I have far less hair and a few more pounds than in '97, but plenty of great memories.

Thanks for the ride.