A losing season and a rude awakening

It's official. Last night the Red Sox lost their 82nd game (and in spectacular fashion, by a score of 13-3 to the Tampa Bay Rays) to clinch their first losing season since 1997.  That's right, the last time the Red Sox were this bad, I was missing my two front teeth.

I grew up in a generation of lucky fans.  I missed the heartbreak of 1986 by four years, and I was too young during the 1994 strike to really understand what was going on.  Sure, I remember the gut-wrenching end to the 2003 postseason, with Tim Wakefield trudging off the mound dejected, sure he would be the next Bill-Buckner-esque scapegoat, but I remember the euphoria of 2004 and 2007 even more clearly.

The Red Sox of my youth were full of talents like Pedro Martinez and vintage Nomar Garciaparra, pre-traitor Johnny Damon and pre-steroid (at least pre-caught using steroids) Manny Ramirez, original dirt dog Trot Nixon, and pre-Captain Jason Varitek.

I've been spoiled. I got to enjoy this golden era of Boston sports without living through any of the real lean seasons.  Until this year.  I missed watching most of the games this summer while working at a camp, and most days I would check the scores and be more happy than sad that I hadn't seen the carnage live.

And now here we are heading into October.  The Red Sox are about as far from the postseason as I can remember - last year and in 2010 we were still in it at this point.  In 2009, we were swept from the postseason by the Angels.  The Red Sox may not have won a postseason series (or even a postseason game) since 2008, my freshman year in college - but they've been in the hunt every year.

Now that I've graduated, and been dumped into the cold, cruel world, the Red Sox seem to have had the same rude awakening I've had: no one is going to hand you anything.  The AL East is a tough division to survive in, and this year the Red Sox sank.  I'm not sure what kind of moves the front office will be looking at to make next year better than this one, but I have some ideas - starting with taking a long, hard look at Bobby V.

What are your thoughts on the first losing season in fourteen years? Any suggestions for offseason moves? Leave them in the comments.

No surgery for the Laser Show

I'm just going to take this time to note how ecstatic I am that Dustin Pedroia, by all accounts, will not need surgery on his troublesome right knee.  According to boston.com's Extra Bases blog, Pedey has suffered nothing more serious than a bruised kneecap, and will be reunited with the Red Sox tomorrow.

Terry Francona noted that while Pedroia does have some cartilage damage, most baseball players do - including the skipper himself.  What is far more worrisome to me is that it was bothering Pedroia enough not only for him to mention it, but enough for him to ask for time off to get it checked out.

It's obviously been affecting his performance, as his line this year is less than stellar.  With damage that required surgery, we could have seen a repaired and rejuvenated Dustin in about a month.  As things stand now, we don't know how things stand.  It's obvious that Pedey is the sparkplug and heart and soul of the Red Sox.  It's also clear (to me, at least) that they could survive a month without him to get him back full steam for the remainder of the season.

If there's no simple surgical solution for what ails the feisty second baseman, what can we expect as the season continues?  That's the big mystery, and since Pedroia himself has admitted his poor performance is due to the pain in his knee and his surgically repaired foot than to any sort of regular slump.

Hopefully he doesn't go the Nomar route: I simply cannot watch another promising, talented, homegrown player go through a string of injuries and DL-stints.  Luckily, I absolutely cannot imagine Pedroia sulking, refusing to play, or demanding a trade.  Keep your fingers crossed he heals up soon... I've been missing the Laser Show.

Yesterday, I Cried

Yesterday I walked around campus is a slight daze, a goofy grin permanently plastered to my face. People looked at me strangely, but I couldn't bring myself to care: Nomar was home, and he still loved us.

I told my friends about his one-day deal with the Red Sox during lunch, and they looked at me blankly. When I told them I had cried with joy during his press conference, they just rolled their eyes; I clearly need to befriend more baseball fans.

Nomar Garciaparra was - and is - someone special to the people of New England, and to me, yesterday felt like the unexpected return of a childhood friend. Of course, that's because I was a child when Nomar made his Sox debut, and barely a teenager when he was so abruptly traded away. I suspect that sports fans felt differently about his gesture depending on their age: perhaps it felt like a reunion with a high school sweetheart, or the return of an estranged child.

It just looks so right...

Regardless of the specifics, thousands of people all over New England rejoiced yesterday: the golden boy of the late 1990's/early 2000's had come home. For those fans who might be newer to the fold, let me explain: Nomar was like Dustin Pedroia's grit, Kevin Youkilis's defensive prowess and power, and Jacoby Ellsbury's good looks and flair, all rolled into one spectacular home grown package. Boston (understandably) loved him, and though his relationship with the media was always shaky, he appreciated the fans.

That was perhaps my favorite aspect of the press conference yesterday, the fact that not only did Garciaparra remember our devotion, he treasured it:


Red Sock Nation, I mean that is the perfect word to describe it because they're everywhere. And everywhere I go I get so many people coming to me and tell me, 'Thank you. Thank you for what you've done. Thank you for being a part of it. We miss you. We still love you.' We do all that, and it's so genuine and mutual and I think, hopefully, from all my actions throughout my career, in that uniform, and hopefully my actions today, and tell them what it means to me, and that the feelings are mutual, and how I feel about them as well.

As much lip service as the rabid New England fanbase gets from new players, Nomar really gets us. Though he wasn't actually on the field for the 2004 championship, he played a big part in its coming, and he truly understood what so many players and commentators failed to grasp:

It's winning the World Series for these people. These people that have bled, cried, cheered over the years. Winning the World Series in Boston is more than an individual player winning the World Series. It was winning the World Series for these people, for the Red Sock Nation.

Despite the fact that his relationship with the front office was strained, and his communications with the media were rather rocky, Nomar put everything on the line for the fans, every day. Though injuries would limit him toward the end of his time in Boston, and even more so in the other cities in which he played, Nomar Garciaparra loved his fans.

So, yes, I cried yesterday. And then? I couldn't stop smiling, because #5 was home.

Love, Always

I was four years old when Nomar Garciaparra was drafted by the Red Sox in the first round of the 1994 draft. I was six when Nomar first played at Fenway Park, and my attention was admittedly elsewhere. When he was shipped off to Chicago, I was fourteen, and more central in my life. It hurt to see him go, even with all the shenanigans going on behind the scenes. When Nomar finally returned to Fenway Park last season, I was nineteen. Seeing the fans reception and Nomar's reaction brought tears to my eyes.


Earlier this offseason, I saw Garciaparra doing a guest spot on ESPN's Baseball Tonight, and I laughed at the irony. During his years as a player - especially in Boston - Nomar had a notoriously rocky relationship with the media, and here he was acting as one of them. Don't get me wrong, the camera loves Nomar, and he will make an excellent analyst (maybe he can cover their baseball broadcasts so the commentary won't be so inane).

As I'm typing this, Nomar is giving a farewell press conference with the Red Sox logo in the background, as it should be. He is giving his due to the fans, and thanking Theo and the ownership group for giving him the opportunity to retire as a Boston Red Sox.

More on this later. I want to watch.

He still loves us!

Forget the way it ended. Forget the pouting, the injuries, and the most shocking midseason trade in my lifetime.

And for god's sake, forget this cover ever happened...

For all the drama leading up to his 2004 departure, Nomar Garciaparra still loves us.

I was at the gym today when ESPN's Baseball Tonight came on the television, and to my delight they had our old friend Nomar as a guest. Mostly they talked about Brandon Webb's rehab, the remaining free agents (Johnny Damon is still out there), and the imminent start of Spring Training, but they did a quick question and answer session at the end of the program.

The first question posed to the former Sox shortstop was this: "What has been your favorite park to play in?"

Nomar smiled. The captions were a little behind on the gym's TV, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to say, so I smiled, too. Sure enough, a split second later the verdict flashed on the screen: "FENWAY." He went on to give props to Wrigley for its history, but returned again and again to the effect the fans have on the atmosphere at Fenway Park. "There's nothing like it," he said, and in my limited experience of other parks, he's quite correct. Other stadiums (I'm looking at you, New York) have scoreboards that tell fans when to cheer and clap... you'll see a lot of things at Fenway Park, but that's not one of them.

Red Sox fans are, for better or for worse, some of the most knowledgeable and passionate in the game, and Nomar is just the latest player to recognize us as such. I don't know about the rest of you, but I was extremely pleased to see Nomar reiterate his love for us (because, let's be fair, things were a little tense by the end of his tenure here). Since #5 left us, we've had a literal parade of shortstops, some good, some bad, but none with the same ties to the fans that Nomar had.


I hope Garciaparra finds a team this season. I hope he comes to Fenway (in anything but pinstripes, not that they have use for him) so we can show him the love once more... and because he loves Fenway as much as Fenway loves him.

The [Good?], the Bad, and the Ugly

The good:

Jon Lester has a great pick off move.  After reading the now-infamous Moneyball, I never thought I would see the Oakland A's of all teams run themselves out of an inning, but that's exactly what happened in the bottom of the fourth last night.  Lester allowed back to back base hits to Ryan Sweeney and Orlando Cabrera, and then erased them both via the pickoff.  Billy Beane must have been freaking out in the parking lot with his white box... [If you haven't read Moneyball, do it.  Right now.]

Jason Varitek still has zero strikeouts this season.  Last season, he struck out nearly once a game, with 122 K's in 131 games played.  Varitek is the only Red Sox batter who has not yet recorded a strikeout.

Nomar still loves us.  The Globe  ran a story this morning about how the 2004 Red Sox shortstops have been united in Oakland this year for the first time.  It's a great read, especially if you like reminiscing about the good old days before Garciaparra was sullen, paranoid, and then practically chased out of town.  Nevertheless, Boston's pre-Pedroia Golden Boy has a soft spot for the Sox in his heart, and says he'd love to return to us.  Also, he can't get through a day without a member of Red Sox Nation yelling "NOMAHHHHH!!"

The bad:

The Sox just aren't hitting.  Besides the once doubted cleanup hitter, and the man who replaced the last cleanup hitter [Youkilis and Bay], the lineup is looking positively anemic.  For all of Ortiz's offseason hints that he needed more protection, it doesn't seem to be the protector that's the problem, but Papi himself, who is 5-for-24 (.208).

Lester's ERA is at an even 9.00.  Ouch.  But hey, no worries, because Lester doesn't think he's pitching that badly... Ahem, though he's now given up 18 hits in 11 inning... he has struck out ten while walking only two, so perhaps the control is just a bit rusty.  Hopefully the Jon Lester we know and love will be back soon... like next week.

Mike Lowell has hit into as many double plays as he has hits.  I'm not a big fan of this trend, although maybe the double play numbers will go down as Lowell's hip continues to heal.  Oh, that has little to nothing to do with it?  Well, I'm still hoping.

The ugly:

Dustin Pedroia is 5-for-38 (.179).  Ok, here I think I can take a little comfort: Pedroia is a notoriously slow starter, having a career .252 batting average for April (.310 overall).  In 2007, if you recall, fans were clammoring for the short second baseman to be replaced.  Thank god Tito doesn't listen to fans.  Personally, I'll stick with Dustin for the long haul.

The #5 starter has as many wins as the rest of the staff combined.  Lester, Matsuzaka, and Wakefield have yet to record a win.  All five losses so far have been charged to the starting pitching.  Is Smoltz ready yet?

Our dear old friend Nomar hit a homah off of Lester last night, adding insult to injury:

Deep breaths... the Sox play again tonight at 10... we have to win eventually, right?

[Almost] Spring Training and the "Steroid Era"

Kevin Youkilis and Jon Lester have already reported to Fort Meyers for Red Sox Spring Training.  Did I mention I love these guys?  In other spring-related news, it was warm enough in Connecticut this morning to wear shorts to the gym.  There's the proof: the snow will melt, the grass will grow, and there will be baseball again.

Thursday can't come soon enough; I'm really tired of this whole "off-season" thing.  I mean, does any really care where Manny ends up anymore?  I mean, as long as he's far, far away from Fenway Park, it's alright with me, and all signs point to the Dodgers, or possibly the Giants [although I have learned never to count the Yankees out].

In other news, no one is surprised that Alex Rodriguez allegedly failed a steroids test in 2003.  Mazz has a good piece about it in the Globe today: at this point, we can only guess who else is on that list.  Would anyone be blindsided if it came out Nomar was using while in Boston?  We already know about Mo Vaughn and Eric Gagne.  Who else could be on the list?  Jason Varitek is looking smaller these days, though the official explanation is that he never regained his weight after an illness early last season.  

The point is, the time to point fingers and gloat has passed [OK, maybe we can gloat a little].  Until the other 103 names on that list with A-rod are released, I for one will be operating under the assumption that at least one of my childhood heroes was a juicer.  The sad truth of it is that more players than we would like to believe were artificially enhanced, and that the most famous among them never needed to use.  Roger Clemens would have been a shoe-in for the hall before he ever met Brian McNamee.  Barry Bonds was one hell of a player, and would have been remembered fondly if he had never heard of BALCO.  And A-rod is a natural.  As much as it pains me to say it, Alex Rodriguez might be one of the most athletically gifted ballplayers of his generation.  However, once you get linked with steroids, your legacy is forever tainted [just ask Mark McGwire's brother].

Hopefully baseball can recover from this [although, if more people boycott, I might actually be able to get tickets].  But the "Steroid Era" is not over.  It won't be over until every last player who used has retired.  And A-rod still has nine years with New York.