Game 1 is BK versus Victor Zambrano, whos had some success against us. Daubers starting at first base, and on the first play of the game lets a grounder slip under his glove for an E. Welcome back, Dauber. Its a brilliant spring day, sunny, in the midseventies. Because this is a rainout of a night game, the Sox have to let ticketholders sit in Sections 34 and 35 in dead center, which normally for day games are sealed off with a black tarp for the hitters backdrop. The Sox have solved the problem by giving everyone sitting in the sections a Tshirt the same forest green as the seats. Both pitchers are throwing well, but the defenses behind them are scuffling, as if the idea of playing an extra game today doesnt agree with either team. Bill Mueller and Doug Mirabelli lose a foul pop in the sun; it drops not between them but ten feet to the side. Later, Billy and Cesar Crespo go back for a short fly in left; Manny comes racing in, calling them off, almost collides with Crespo and drops the ball. A play you rarely see in the second Jose Cruz Jr.s leading off first when Tino Martinez hits a screamer right at him. Cruz doesnt have time to go right or left, he just ducks. The liner skims off his back, barely nicking him, but Dauber points to let the ump know. The firstbase ump says it never touched him, bringing Francona out to argueat which time, without consulting anyone, the secondbase ump calls Cruz out. Go Blue! Kim looks sharp, getting groundouts with the ball down, then climbing the ladder with a good rising fastball. I saw his first start for the Sox last year in Pittsburgh, an efficient win, and he looks much the same. Hes up to 70 pitches after five, and finishes the inning with a strikeout. As he walks off, the fans standremarkable, since this is the first time hes pitched since giving us the finger. Five innings, one hit, no runs. Come home, ByungHyun, all is forgiven. Zambranos cruising too, striking out the side in the fourth, but in the fifth, with a man on, he gets behind David Ortiz 30. Zambrano obviously hasnt read the scouting report, because Davids always got the green light. He plants a meatball in the sea of green shirts in Section 35. Its all we need, as Wake comes on to baffle the DRays for two more innings, then Timlin, then Embree. The finals 40, our third straight shutout. The pen hasnt been scored on in over 30 innings. We get on the road to Game 2 just as Game 1s ending. Weve got a table up in the new rightfield roof terrace, and Steves dugout seats. Trudy has papers to grade, so Caitlin and her friend Lindsay will take the good seats first and well switch after the fourth. Its turned into a warm evening, and Yawkey Way is a carnival. A guy on stilts in a Sox uniform tosses a puffy ball to random people in the crowd. People are having their pictures taken with Wally in the big red chair on the sidewalk. The guys at Cambridge Soundworks are handing out their Sox bumper stickersI BELIEVE and TURN IT UPand we take a minute to gawk at the highdefinition TVs in their little alcove. Then its the long walk out to the big concourse in right field. The stairs we take up to the roof are new, concrete and steep. The elevator shaft is in place, but theres no elevator in it yet. The views of Back Bay and the park at every turning are spectacular. Im puffing by the time we make it to the top, and the low sun in the west is blinding. We get to our homeplateshaped table in the second row and test the swiveling seats, the same as on the Monster. But theres not as much room as on the Monsterthe wire fence digs into my knees when I try to turn toward homeand were much farther from the action. On the way up, we passed the very last row of the bleachers in Section 43, joking that the corner seat there was probably the worst seat in Fenway. Were a good two stories higher, above the retired numbers attached to the roofs facing, nearly eye level with the top of the Pesky Pole. The view is the one youd have if they built a second deck, as they were threatening to with the New Fenway. Its as far away as Ive ever sat at a Red Sox game. Its also windy, a breeze coming over the back of the deck whipping napkins off the tables and out over the front railing, where an updraft floats them high into the air. Im glad its warm now, because its going to be cold later. Lowes going against lefty Damian Moss, a recent retread, so I think weve got the advantage. The first batter Lowe faces, speedburner Carl Crawford, bonks a double off the wall. Julio Lugo, known best for banging his exwifes head off the hood of a car (Hey, Lugo, restrain yourself!), bunts, and Lowe misplays it. A grounder by Woonsockets own Rocco Baldelli scores Crawford, ending our scoreless streak, and the crowds not happy. Were even less happy when Robert Fick doubles to right, scoring Lugo. Steph shakes his head; its just like the Yankee game we saw Lowe throw here. I overhear that Jeters homered in the first at the Stadium, breaking his hitless streak. All good things must come to an end. We come up to bat down 20. I realize the girls have forgotten to take my glovefor protection, seriouslyand hustle down there. Im underneath the grandstand when I hear the crowd cheer for Johnny. I guess that hes on base. Another cheer, this time for Bill Mueller. So probably a single. A bigger cheer (its a long way), and I catch a monitor by a concession stand in time to see Johnny scoot home with our first run. I reach the seats as Mannys batting. The girls think Im nuts, bringing down the glove, but I insist. Lindsay, I say, youre getting a ball tonight. Moss is all over the place. He throws one to the backstop, moving Bill Mueller and Ortiz over. Watch the ball, I tell the girls, because its scuffed. The ump tosses it to Andrew, who looks back and sees me and the girls. Lindsay stands and Andrew throws it right to heronly to have this linebackersized guy in a muscle shirt in the front row reach back and snatch it away from her. The section boos, and the poacher realizes what hes done and dumps it in Caitlins lap. So Lindsay gets her ball. And Manny singles, scoring Bill Mueller to tie the game. Tek rocks a threerun shot. McCarty singles, Kapler doubles. Thats it for Moss7 earned runs in onethird of an inning. For a guy trying to make a comeback, thats got to hurt. In the top of the third, Rocco Baldelli stings a tailing liner to right that Gabe Kapler makes a great diving catch on. When Kapler comes up with two down in the bottom of the inning, he must still be pumped, because he bunts for a base hit, digging hard and diving headfirst to beat the throw. I dont know, I say, and explain to Steph that with a big lead its generally a sign of disrespect for the other club to bunt for a hit. Then Kapler steals second. Well see if they throw at one of our guys, I say. Lowes done after seven. Not a great start, but hell get a W, thanks to good run support. Foulke closes, striking out Crawford and Lugo to finish it. Its a 73 final, a relatively uneventful game, and a sweep of the DRays. The Yanks have swept Oakland, who should be seriously worried. But no ones worried about the Yanks here, not tonight. Weve won six in a row, and the crowd leaves the park happy. Even the talk radio guys on WEEI cant gripeand whom should we hear but Angry Bill, who says, Smooth sailingthats what the captain of the Titanic said. SK Last time I looked in on the nightcap, the Sox were up 73, and Lowe was throwing in that queerly careless way he sometimes has, as though only a quarter of his mind is on the game. If were going to lose one we should win, this would be my candidate. Second half of a doubleheader? DRays feeling embarrassed (by Gabe Kapler, for one)? Sure. SO So you caught Kaplers bunt and steal too. At first I thought it was unsporting, but hell, it was only the third. He didnt get plunked, but late in the game the ump rang him up on three pitches, only one of which was decidedly a strike. I guess the game polices itself. April 30th Thinking of Kapler last night, I wonderwith Trot due back soonif he was trying to remind management of his special abilities. With Ellis Burks on the DL, he may be safe for a while, but there are no guarantees. So far Franconas shown hes willing to start Millar, Crespo and McCarty in the outfield, and I imagine well see Dauber out there eventually. In the mail is a stack of scoresheets from the Remy Report. Now, instead of having to buy the same 4 program all month, I can just flip a single sheet over and fold it into my pocket when Im done. Also in the mail, a talisman a ball signed by Sox playoff and World Series hero (how often do you hear those words together?) Dave Henderson. I add Hendu to the ball case like the crucial ingredient in a witchs brew. Were still in a rain delay with Charlie Moore, NESNs Mad Fisherman, when the Yankee final crawls bythey beat KC for their fourth straight. And ten minutes before midnight, when the Rangers finally call it (after the crowds waited through a threehour delay), the Yanks pick up a half game on us. The games rescheduled for tomorrow at five Central time, meaning well be playing our second doubleheader in three days. Good thing our starting pitchings deep. May 1st SK Good pitching  lots of wins. Also  short losing streaks, and hopefully  postseason. Nomah in thirteen days and counting. Speaking of days, Ill be out of touch for the next five or so as I drive back to Gods country. SO Really, Nomie in thirteen days? That would be sweet. I expected Trot back first. Last night after the game was called, Pedro mouthed off to reporters about his lack of a contract. Hes pissed at the Red Sox for spreading rumors about his shoulder to drive his price down around the league. He says that hes decided to go free agent after the season, and that, if the situations right, he could see signing with the Yankees. (All this I pick up from the Courant; later, when I see him making comments at his locker on TV, he says, I want the fans to know my heart is here in Boston. I want to finish in Boston. He shrugs. But I have to make a living. None of this is in the paper.) He also makes reference to Larry Lucchinos tenure with the Orioles, when they went from being a contender to a secondrate club. Who was behind the Orioles? he asks. Im not going to mention any names. Its bad timing, with the Sox riding so high. Usually Ill stick up for Petey, but in this case all a fan has to do is look at Dauber or McCarty or Crespo. There are a lot of guys on this team who are just glad to be here, and rightfully so. Jon Liebers glad to be back pitching for the Yanks. Hes the one wearing Roger Clemenss 22. Maybe its an act of faith on the Yankees part. Its unnecessary today; Lieber gets tons of run support and the Bombers whomp Tony Penas struggling Royals 124. I only catch the first inning of Game 1 against Texas before we go out to see Kill Bill, Vol. 2. By the time we get back, Game 1s over, and weve lost 43. Arroyo threw well, but the pen finally gave up some runs (it was just a matter of time; you cant throw scoreless ball forever). Williamson gave up the big hits, but its Mystery Malaska, who faced only one batter, who gets the L. Manny, suddenly going cold, Kd four times. I figure well get the split, with Pedro taking on green Joaquin Benoit, but Peteys awful from the start, giving up an oppositefield job to Hank Blalock in the first, then melting down in a 5run third. Every pitch is up, nothings working, as if he jinxed himself with last nights hissy fit. Payyydro, the sparse crowd taunts. Hes gone after four, and DiNardos on for some garbage time. The finals 85, but it was never that close. May 2nd After the sweep yesterday, Im ready for a solid win. Tonights game is ESPNs Sunday Night Baseball feature, and starts an hour later than usual to make prime time. Once again, the pitching matchups in our favor, Wake vs. R. A. Dickey, a junkballing righty. His offspeed stuff looks hittable but isnt. Our whole lineup (except Bellhorn, who adds to his leagueleading walk total) chases it. Dickey even throws a low knuckler called The Thing, the seams never turning. Wake, throwing his high, floating knuckler, matches him till the fourth, when Johnny misplays a liner into a triple, giving them a cheap run. Its 10 most of the game, with few base runners. Wake tires in the seventh, giving up several foulball home runs. Francona wants him to finish the inning, and with two out and two strikes (including another foulball homer), David Dellucci straightens one out, and were down 20. In the eighth Embree comes on and promptly gives up two runs. In the ninth, the crowd chants, Sweep, sweep, waving brooms. Buck Showalter leaves Dickey in to get the completegame shutout, even though hes visibly tired. With one down, Manny hits a bloop single, Dauber crushes a liner right at the right fielder, Millar walks, and thats it for Dickey, no complete game. For the third time in two days, on comes Francisco Cordero. Bellhorn works the count deep, turns on a fastball and sticks it in the upper deckfoulthen walks to load the bases. The crowds edgy now, and theyre as pissed as Dickey when Cordero walks Tek to blow the shutout. 41, bases still loaded for Crespo, who, despite ample playing time, has yet to drive in a run. Our thin bench is showing, because Francona literally has no one to go to, and Crespo flies to center to end it. A weak game, and that includes the Yankeestyle rally in the ninth, groveling for walks. Ortiz and Bill Mueller arent hitting, and Mannys in a rare cold spell. Last year the bottom of the order could pick us up, but thats when Bill Mueller was batting eighth and Trot ninth. Now were trying to get run production out of Kapler, Crespo and Pokey, and its not happening. May 3rd In anticipation of Saturdays frontrow Monster seats, I drive around town in the rain trying to find a fishing net so we can haul in shots just short of the Wall. I go to Sears, figuring they might have a Ted Williams model in his fishing line. The floor associate there tells me they no longer carry fishing gearor baseball gear, for that matter. All they have is home fitness equipment. I find a net with a telescoping arm at the Sports Authority. Its big, and I doubt the gate attendants will let me in with it, but what the hell. Worst case, I take it back to the car. At home, the dogs are afraid of it. Trudy shakes her head. How much? Its cold in Cleveland, and Lou Merlonis in the wrong dugout. Schillings just getting warm in the first when he grooves one to cleanup man Victor Martinez, who cranks it into the rightfield seats for a 20 lead. Schilling settles down after that, but were just not hitting. The Indians pitcher is Jake Westbrook, a kid who didnt make their rotation until last week. Ortiz ends two innings with men on; Bellhorn hits into a basesloaded double play to kill a rally. Im tired of being behind and wanting something good to happen. We dont score till the seventh, and then its on two walks given up by the aptly named David Riske and a blast to center by David Ortiz off retread reliever Rick White. The balls deep, but it looks like center fielder Alex Escobars going to make a great leaping catch against the wall. Hes worried about the wall and jumps too early, and the ball bounces off him. The runners have to wait, and only Johnny scores. Even though weve had trouble scoring runs, Sveums right not to send Bill Mueller. Ortiz ended up at second, and with first base open, its a nobrainer to walk Manny and go after Dauber and Tek. Whites a righty, but hes got a big twelvetosix curve. Thats all he throws to Dauber, and gets him easily. He quickly goes 02 on Tek, who at least fouls a few off for drama before striking out on one in the dirt. Embree throws a scoreless eighth, and we try to tie it in the ninth against former Sox farmhand Rafael Betancourt. Johnny slaps one through the left side. Bill Mueller Ks, but Johnnys running, and the throw from Martinez sails into center. Johnny at third with one down and Ortiz and Manny coming up. I think weve got a real chance to steal one here when Betancourt goes 20 on David. Heres where a hitter cuts his strike zone in half and only swings at a ball he knows he can drive. A fly balls a run, and Davids the guy we want up in this situation. He chases one at his knees and grounds out to second. Two down, and its up to Manny. Cleveland fans will never forgive him for taking the money and slouching off to Boston, and theyre on their feet, cheering for some poetic justice. Betancourt (and manager Eric Wedge) foolishly pitch to him. Down 12, Manny fights back and finally walks. So theres no delicious revenge. First and third, two down. Dauber steps in and skies the first pitch to center, and the games over. You guys suck! I say, and change the channel. I dont want to hear the recapI dont need to. Were 0 and 4 on the road trip, and have squandered that cushion from sweeping the Yanks. Its not that were not hitting with men in scoring position, were not hitting at all. Bill Muellers not getting it done in the two slot, Ortiz and Millar are struggling, and theres no one to protect Manny. At least Francona acknowledged how desperate we are, running Pokey and Johnny to get something going in the late innings, but he may need to shake up the lineup. Trot and Nomar are still a long ways away. May 4th My brother Johns visiting, and my friend Phils flying in from Tokyo. His brother, Adam, has scored tickets to the only major league game within five hundred miles, the Mets and Giants at Shea. None of us is a Mets or Giants fan, but baseballs a fun way to spend time togethera tonic, Phil calls it, and hes right. Watching baseball is the only way I naturally relax. If I care about the teams playing, Im anxious, but the rest of my worries vanish. The paper promises that Barry Bonds will play, but he has a sinus infection and sits. The only star on the field is Mike Piazza, but hes catching, and he can no longer play the position, hes just there until he breaks Fisks home run record. Everyone knows it too, and in the second inning were treated to some classic National League action as the Giants bunt three times, scoring an unearned run when Piazza throws wild down the firstbase line. Its a dull game, and a quiet crowdvery unFenwaylike. Half the seats are empty, half the concession stands shuttered. Worse, the crowd expects nothing from the team. The biggest cheer is for the girls shooting bundled Tshirts into the stands with a CO2 bazooka. On the small scoreboard, between innings, they run todays Wall Street ticker. The one Met who impresses me is shortstop and Japanese import Kazuo Matsui, who has a coterie of fans right in front of us eating homemade rice balls. Kaz is 2 for 2 and makes a slick play in the hole. When he comes up next, Phil, a veteran of the Tokyodome, shouts, Ganbatte!meaning Persevere! or Do your best! Ganbatte, Kaz! we yell. For me Sheas a break from the grind of the Soxs losing streak, but right beside us is the scoreboard. Clevelands beating Lowe 20 in the second. 21 in the fourth. 31 in the fourth, 51, 61, 71and Lowes still in there. The way weve been hitting, I dont hold out much hope. Here its 62 Mets in the seventh, and the stadiums clearing out. By the middle of the eighth, there cant be more than 10,000 people, and its not even ten oclock. In Cleveland the Sox rally in the ninth. Suddenly its 76, and the Indians have changed pitchers. A couple minutes later they change again, to 63, Betancourt. I let the Mets distract me from the scoreboard. I keep thinking Ill look up and find us winning, but then the red light beside BOS goes out, the 9 turns into an F, and weve lost five in a row. Ganbatte! May 4th SK I got back to Maine this afternoon around 2 P.M. Spent the other night in a desperate little Quality Inn about five hundred yards off Route 84 in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, where every droning semi sounded like it was coming right through the bathroom wall, stacks blowing smoke and headlights glaring. But the first thing I did was to seize the little laminated channel card on top of the TV, and yes! Sho nuff! NESN on channel 37! Talk about your welcome back to New England! And a Red Sox welcome it was, as our guys managed to drop their fourth straight, this one by a score of 21. A real heartbreaker for Curt Schilling, who pitched like a hero after giving up that dinger. Now a little editorial about Theo Epstein and his Moneyballinspired gospel of the onbase percentage. I dont know how much or how little of his teamstaffing strategy comes from that book, but I do know you only have to look at the roster and listen to the chatter from the sportswriters to know that onbase percentage is very important this year. In the last four games (and, to some extent, in the Oakland Athletics postseason misadventures) you can see the strengths and weaknesses of the philosophy. God knows weve put enough men on base in this little skid; I count a total of twentyseven left on in the four losses. Because, see, a players onbase percentage will never guarantee that players ability to get a key hit at a key moment. You saw it again and again in the game against Cleveland last night. Ortiz got it done once, with a double (I think on a warm summer night that balls a home run), but he wasnt able to get Damon in with the tying run in the ninth. And who followed him? Was it Millar? Whoever it was just popped out, and theres your ball game. You can argue that this fivegame skid is just one blip in a long season and I would tend to agreeworking on this book really makes it clear what a long march a season of baseball is; the first pitch already seems a year gonebut all those men left on base is an interesting statistic, isnt it? Its like cooking enough to feed a family reunion and then only actually serving three people. Meanwhile, the Yanks are winning again. Guess Derek Jeter wont have to hang up his spikes after allbut then, I never really thought he would. But we live in hope. Chilly up here in Gods country, but stillgreat to be home. SO Welcome back to the land of boulders and cold water. You look at a guy like Bellhorn, and hes all about onbase percentage, working the walk early, middle and late, and he can still get the bat off his shoulder to knock a run in with a sac fly or a single. Hes the guy they hoped Jeremy Giambi would be. But youre right, we need our big guys to be knocking these runners in. Ortiz is leaving lots of guys on. The problem is, once you get past Manny (by walking him or just not throwing him anything to hit), our fivethrunine guys are struggling mightily. I dont expect Pokey to carry that weight, or Kapler or Bellhorn, but Tek, Millar and Dauber (who popped up firstpitch hitting to end that game) have to produce out of the 5 and 6 spots. And Bill Muellerwho got shoved down in the order last nightjust hasnt been getting it done in the 2 hole. Lots of blame to go round. Our cushion over the Yanks is gone. Essentially, its a brandnew season. Dammit. May 5th Mr. Kims going tonight, his second start of the season. Hes shaky, but Big David hits a solo homer and then a threerun shot to give him some breathing room. Which we immediately give back when, on three consecutive plays, Kim uncorks a wild pickoff throw, Bellhorn lets an easy grounder through his legs, and Millar kicks a single around right field. Its 55 and time for Mystery Malaska, who shuts Cleveland down. Bronson Arroyos next out of the pen. Hes in direct competition for the number 5 spot with Kim, and makes a statement by throwing two scoreless innings while risky David Riske comes in for Cleveland and surrenders a firstpitch threerun rainbow to Bill Mueller. In the middle of the game, we switch to ESPN to check on the Pirates, who are facing Clemens, and find out that Piazzas hit the homer hes been waiting for so long, finally overtaking Pudge. The commentator says hes now the greatest homerunhitting catcher in history. No, I correct him, he just has the most homers. Each time Manny comes to the plate, everyone in Jacobs Field boos except for a womans tiny voice picked up by the microphone We love you, Manny. With two down and two strikes on him in the ninth, the crowd rises, hoping for some payback, and Manny hits a screwyou double off the wall in rightcenter. When Tek singles, Sveumup three runsgets aggressive and sends Manny. Manny doesnt expect it; he hasnt been running hard from second and has to turn it on. The throw from Jody Geruts a twohopper, in time, but Victor Martinez is too worried about Manny and drops it. 95 Sox, and a very quiet crowd. SK So the fivegame skid is history, Bronson Arroyo gets a W, and David Ortiz gets a couple of dingers. One more milepost on the long, long road. The important thingthe thing that absolutely should go in the bookis that I happened to watch one of those ads for Foxwoods Casino with the sound turned off and had a revelation all of the people in the adgamblers, entertainers, cooks, waiters, and waitresseslook like utter lunatics. We must go there, Stewart. We must go there soon. SO If you really wanna go, lets go when we can catch a Norwich Navigators game (maybe against Portland); theyre right up the road, and their little doubleA parks nice. Great cheeseburgers too. May 6th When I went to bed last night, the Yanks were losing late in Oakland to Barry Zito. The first thing I do when I wake up is hit ESPN, and, perfect timing, theyre showing the highlights. Both BALCO boys went deep for the Yanks. Theyre down 32 in the ninth when ARods up with no outs and no one on. He swings, and just the way the camera pans toward the stands, zooming on the crowd, lets me know the balls gone. Then with two down and two on, Tony Clark hits a quail toward the gap in left that the As outfielder cant quite get to. 43 Yanks. And then theres Mariano Rivera dealing with two on and two out, and the As last hope pops to second. Not the way I wanted to start the day. So the Yanks are playing like the regular season means something. And the As, for all of Billy Beanes genius, still havent figured out that great starters are useless without a decent pen. SK Meet me at Foxwoods. Meanwhile, as for Bronson versus BK, all I can say is that I have rarely seen any pitcher in my life who looked as uncomfortable on the mound as Mr. Kim did last night. Memo to Theo Epstein Its time to rent that video, FINDING NOMO. And the Yankees are apparently not going to lose again this season. Or so it looks now. I still think this years Yankee tootsies are made of clay. SO They scored on Mr. Kim every inning he was out there. If Theo doesnt get FINDING NOMO, he might be calling Bronson on the TELEFON. The great Criswell predicts The Yanks lose tonite. Let it be so. And thats clay and steroids. A nice matchup for the final game of the Cleveland set Pedro, whos undefeated lifetime in Jacobs Field, against their young ace C. C. Sabathia. Sabathia comes out blazing, while Matt Lawton puts Pedros first pitch over the wall in dead center. Two hits and a grounder later, were down 20. Its a fast game, with both aces going right after batters. Oldtime hockey, eh? Lou Merlonis playing third for them, which is just weird. Pokey triples, but we strand him. In the sixth, Bellhorn doubles. Kapler singles, and Sveum, down two runs with nobody out, holds Bellhorn. Ortiz grounds into a DP, but Bellhorn scores, and then Manny, who owns Sabathia, plants one in the rightfield stands to tie the game. Meanwhile, Pedros only given up one hit since the first inning. In the seventh, McCartys on first with two down and Pokey at the plate. I tell Steph that Pokeys going to hit a double to the gap and well get to see big, gangly McCarty come wheeling all the way around. Unlike most of my hipshot predictions, this one comes trueMcCarty pumping his arms like a crazed windmilland weve got the lead. Bellhorn comes up and doubles down the line in right, and Pokey scores easily. 42. Pedros been waiting awhile and struggles in the bottom of the inning, putting two on with one out, and who should step in but Lou. Ive always had a soft spot for Lou, but we need a win here. He grounds one to Pokeytailormade doubleplay balland Im pissed when Bellhorn loses his grip on the transfer. Millar, of all people, bails him out with the glove, making a tough catch in foul ground down the rightfield line. We add a run in the eighth, and on comes Embree to set up and Foulke to close. May 7th As the great Criswell predicted, the Yankees did indeed lose. Vazquez faltered in the middle innings, so were a game up on them. The buzz is just temporary, since it appears now that Nomar wont be back till June, and Trot has problems with his left quad and is sitting. We need those guys, David Ortiz says, like a human being needs to be fed every day. Last night Steph noticed that Ron Jackson was coaching first. The paper has the answer Lynn Jones hurt his eye at home in northwestern Pennsylvania. It sounds serious, because Francona says, Theres a chance they can save some of his eyesight. Our leaguebest record is long gone, obviously, but Im shocked to find that distinction now belongs to the Angels, with the surprising White Sox right behind them. The seasons so young that one hot streak puts you on top. Tomorrow weve got Monster seats, front row, and I call the Sox customer service line to see if I can bring my fishing net for BP. The woman who answers doesnt know. She asks around the office; the consensus is that security will probably not let it in, but theres no set policy. I tell her Ill try. Got to make them make the play, right? Tonight its Wake and his 2.25 ERA against Jeremy Affeldt, whos yet to win a game. Im thinking we should score a bunch of runs, but its Wake who struggles. Its a windy nightusually good for a knucklerbut his ball looks awful straight. It also doesnt help that in the third we have Carlos Beltran picked off first but Bellhornmaybe distracted by Desi Relaford trying to score from thirddrops Millars toss. Its 20, but not for long. In our half, Johnny answers with a leadoff shot over the Royals pen. Bellhorn singles, Manny singles for the second time, Millar doubles. Tie game. Between innings, the camera finds Trot in the dugouta nice surpriseand theres Prince Nomar. Neithers close to being ready; its more of a token appearance to raise morale. Word on Lynn Jones is that somehow he gouged his eye with a screwdriver. Theyre still not sure if hell regain sight in it. While hes out, former Sox catcher Bill Haselman, who played with the PawSox last year, will coach first. In the sixth, Wake gives up five hits and Bill Mueller rushes a throw on a chopper, sailing it into the stands. The Royals score four runs before the creaky Benito Santiago grounds into a roundthehorn double play. By the eighth Affeldts pitch count is pushing 110. Hes a young guy but hes never gone this deep in a game before. Tony Pena must want to conserve his pen for the rest of the series, because he leaves him in. Manny singles for the third time. Kapler hits a short fly to left that the wind takes away from Matt Stairs; it falls, and weve got first and second for Mirabelli, who lines one into the leftfield corner. Stairs fires the ball in to second, but its wide and gets by Relaford, and Kapler scoots in to make it 64. Timlin throws a perfect top of the ninth. Before Johnny can lead off the bottom, two fans run out on the field, delighting the crowd. When Johnny finally gets up, hes laughing and loose, and walks on a pitch thats really too close to take. MacDougal, the Royals young closer, stares in at veteran ump Joe West; West whips off his mask and stares back. A passed ball puts Johnny at second, so we dont have to worry about the double play. With Bellhorn up, I expect were in for a long atbat, but he gets a pitch belthigh and yanks it deep to right.


Juan Gonzalez runs a few steps toward the corner, then pulls up as the ball lands a dozen rows in. The games tied at 6 and Fenways on its feet. Here in Avon, were hollering and trading high fives. They dont want to pitch to Manny with the game on the line, but they dont intentionally walk him either, just nibble a little and then stay away on 32. MacDougals gone and righty Scott Sullivans on. With two down, Francona pinchhits the switchhitting Tek for the righty Kapler. Tek rips Sullivans first pitch down the rightfield line for a sure double. Mannys running on contact. The ball skims along the wall instead of kicking out. Dont touch it! I coach the fans past the Pesky Pole. I see other fans along the wall doing the same with their neighbors, holding their arms out wide as if to prove theyre not fouling anyone. Gonzalez scoops the ball and fires to Relaford, whose relay to Santiago is just enough off the plate to the firstbase side to let Manny tiptoe in standing up. He leaps into the arms of Kevin Millar and the Sox win 76. Here at home, Steph and I are jumping and highfiving, slapping at each other like firstgraders. Its a huge wina steal, really. Two in the eighth, then three in the ninth off a cold closer. Manny ran hard all the way and Sveum sent him inclassic strategy at home play for the win and make them throw you out. I watch Extra Innings, wallowing in the highlights and lockerroom interviews. Sox win, Sox win! SO Man, what a wild one. Im still short of breath from screaming. Its amazing how loud you have to yell at the TV so the players can hear you. SKso it was spoken, and so it was. My God, Bellhorns starting to look like the deal of the century, isnt he? (BELLHORN, BOOK, AND CANDLE, starring Spencer Tracy). He cranks one to get us even, and then Manny (MANNY THE TORPEDOES, starring Randolph Scott) struts across home plate three minutes later, arms raised like a ref signaling the extra points good. And all at once weve got a little breathing room between us and the Yankees. Have you noticed, by the way, that on Extra Innings they now play Darth Vader music before giving the Yankees score? And call them the Evil Empire? Hee! Hating the Yankees is very much in vogue, but since we were doing it long before Yankeehating was cool (outside of New England, that is), Im sending you your own YANKEES HATER hat, with the spiffy yh intertwined logo on the front. Also, the Coen Brothers remake MUELLERS CROSSING. And the Hammer Horror remake CURSE OF THE DAMON, titled JOHNNY EVIL for DVD release. The artfilm classic LEAVING NOMAR. That gritty piece of 50s realism I TROTTED ALL THE WAY HOME. The softcore classic PLEASE ME ORTIZ ME. Nor can we forget the hardcore STROKE ME POKEY. Bottom line? Baseballs a wonderful game. Theres no greater thrill than when your team pulls one out. And you cant get that from a newspaper story. TVs better, but theres really nothing on Gods earth like being at the ballpark and getting on your feet in the bottom of the ninth, hot dog still in hand, when the Sox pull one out. If Heavens that good, I guess I wanna go. Born Again in New England. SO Was at a game last year against Clemboy and the Yanks where John Williams threw out the first ball (I think he bounced it), and when Clem jogged out to the pen, the PA played Lord Vaders Marchperfect for a guy who started out as a headstrong young Jedi apprentice from a dusty, forlorn planet, then felt betrayed and hurt, grew powermad and crossed over to the dark side. May 8th Whats better than the Sox winning? The Sox winning and the Yanks losing. Last night the Mariners rocked Jon Lieber, so were two games up. And we cant forget the Os, just a half game behind them. Torontos under .500, and Tampa Bays already in a death spiral. Thats the kind of year a fan fearsout of the chase by May (like the Pirates, who got onehit last night). As Sox fans, we need to remember how lucky we are. And were damn lucky today, with frontrow seats on the Monster. All along Lansdowne, people stare at the net; Trudy pretends shes not with me. The guy at the turnstile asks me what I think Im going to do with it, but just laughs and lets me through. Trudy and the kids cant believe Im getting away with this. The Royals are hitting, clumps of players spread around the outfield. Its a bright cool day up on the Monster, and the winds in our faces, perfect for home runs. Were in M9, next to the second light standard, but thats too far toward center. I stake my claim to an empty spot in M5 above the power alley. Ive just started to extend the handle when a ball comes right at me. Its going to be short. I reach out and down. Id have it if the handle were fully extended. Hey, no fair! Trudy calls from M9. Thats cheating. With the handle fully extended, the nets about ten feet long, giving me incredible range. It really is unfair. Mike Sweeneys taking his cuts. He sends one directly over my head. I raise the net straight up and even jump, but the ball carries over it, banging off the thirdrow facade and then back past us and down to the field again. A few swings later, Sweeney hits one just to my right. Its going to be close. I scoot a few steps and swing the net over. The ball clanks off the handle and drops at my feet. Inelegant, but hell, its a ball, and Sweeneys as good a player as theyve got. Im not sure who hits me the next one. Its right at me, and a few feet out from the lip, so Im not taking it away from anyone, but I misjudge it and it bangs off the handle a good foot from the head of the net, and falls back to the field. The boos and laughs shower down, and I slump back in a stool and hang my head. Nice going, Netman. Netguy, you suck! The guy beside me points out a dent in the handle. Its a goodsized ding, the metal buckled inward. I cant close the handle all the way anymore. Juan Gonzalez puts a bunch out by the Coke bottles, and then some guy in a blue fleece sweatshirt hits another right at me. It rises past the solid background of the roof and up into the blue sky, then falls fast. Its going to be short, and I dip the net out and down. I dont think Ive got enough reach, but I must, because its a swish, just a gentle tug on my arms and then the ball swinging in the mesh, caught. The crowd goes wild. Yeah, go ahead, Netman! Hey, gimme oneisnt it catch and release? The ball has a pink stamp on the sweet spot KCR enclosed by a thin circle, like something on special at CVS. The hitter was Benito Santiagothe BEN from his batheads imprinted backwards across the cowhide. Like Mark Bellhorn, I had a chance to redeem myself. And just in time too, because thats it for BP. Packing up, Im visited by two people. A burly security dude who tells me Ill have to surrender the net to him before game time (so I dont interfere with play), and a reporter for the Greenfield, Mass, paper who saw the catch and wants to interview me. I get to use my Bellhorn analogy. Youre down one minute and the next youre up again. Thats baseball. And, canned and corny as that sounds, it is as long as you keep at itstubbornly, dumblysomething good might happen. Its a beautiful day, were in the front row, and Schillings on the mound. Hes throwing 9293, with great location. KCs throwing another kid, Jimmy Gobble, and Im proud of the Faithful for not making turkey noises at him. Hes throwing well too, mostly soft breaking stuff. We get a run off him in the third, Bellhorn doubling in Johnny. The Royals get it back in the fifth when Santiago homers to the exact spot in M5 where I was fishing. Its 11 in the fifth and the games not even an hour old. In the bottom of the fifth Pokey stings one down the rightfield line. Gonzalez gets over to the wall by the Pesky Pole in time to cut the ball offtrying to hold Pokey to a singlebut the ball slips through, bouncing past him along the wall and curling into the corner. Pokeys rounding third as the ball comes in to cutoff man Desi Relaford. The crowds upSveums sending him. Pokeys chugging now, and the throws on the mark. Santiago lunges with the tag as Pokey dives flatout and slides a hand across the platesafe! The place goes insane, a good threeminute celebration that lasts halfway through Johnnys atbat, and while we dont score again that inning, were on our feet to salute Pokey when he trots out to short. Ive never seen an insidethepark home run live, Steph says. Neither have I. Schill is cruising, really stretching his arm out, throwing 94 and 95 now. Hes only given up three hits. In our sixth, Gobbles breaking stuff stays up. Millar doubles, Manny doubles, Tek singles, Bill Mueller singles. Its 51, and Mr. Gobble is cooked. For the second straight game former Yankee Jason Grimsley provides little relief. With two down and Kapler on, he leaves one in Pokeys wheelhouse (its a very small wheelhouse, but it still works), and Pokey turns on it and sticks it in M3. POKey, POKey! He comes back out of the dugout and tips his cap. Two homers in two inningsit looks awesome on the scorecard. In the eighth, McCarty hits a tworun shot that keeps the party going, but the real ovation is reserved for Pokey. When he comes to bat the last time, the entire park rises. Hes never had a twohomer game in his career, but hes been such a great defensive player, filling in for Nomar. Pokey pauses outside the batters box, soaking in the moment, and I think its a day hell always keepthe way we will. May 9th Another matchup to love DLowe against weak lefty Darrell May. After a brief rain delay, Bill Mueller gets us on the board in the second, driving a high changeup into M3 with Tek on base. 20 and all the mothers in the stands are happy. The next inning, after Desi Relaford walks, David DeJesus hits a chopper to McCarty, who spins and fires to Pokey. DeJesus runs well, so the chances for two are slim, but its a good play, cutting down the lead runner. The throws perfect. Pokey comes off the bag for a look at first (theres no one there), and though the ball beat Relaford by a good five feet and the neighborhood plays in order, umpire Joe West calls him safe. Pokey cant believe it. Francona comes out to argue, but its pointless. The replay shows that Pokey did indeed slidestep off the bag an instant before receiving the ball, so technically the runner would be safe, but in practice its an out 99 of the time. Lowe battles and gets two outs, but then Sweeney pulls a grounder down the line past Bill Mueller for a gametying double. On the replay, broken down, it makes no sense Sweeneys a dead pull hitter and Lowes been working him down and in, yet Bill Mills playing him well off the line. Why isnt someone in the dugout waving him over? The next inning, Pokey makes a leaping snag of a Joe Randa laser they have to show two or three times. In slowmo its even more impressive; Pokey heads back on contact and does a little stutterstep before going up for it like hes timing an alleyoop, leaps and snares it backhanded. The momentum of the ball sends him twisting around so he lands facing the Monster. Its like watching The Matrix, Steph says. Its a sedate game otherwise. May is spacing out the hits and Lowes struggling with his control but seems to get a ground ball whenever he needs one. That changes in the sixth. Joe Randa singles, and with two down, Lowe walks their eight and nine guys to load the bases. After Dave Wallace pays Lowe a visit, Angel Berroa, their leadoff man, hits a smash that Bill Mueller has to dive to stop. With Berroas wheels, theres no chance at first, so he goes to Bellhorn for the force, but DeJesus is hustling and ties the throw. 32 Royals. Lowes gone and Mystery Malaskas on to face the dangerous Carlos Beltran, now batting righty. He gets behind 30 and on 32 throws a fat pitch that Beltran pulls past Bill Mueller into the corner, clearing the bases. 62 Royals. Its 83 in the bottom of the ninth and Steph and I are playing catch in the backyard, listening to the dregs of the game on the radio when Johnny knocks in Pokey. With two outs and Johnny on, Tony Penain a move I can only call paranoid, since hes up four runschanges pitchers. It worksderand the winning streak is over. We turn it off and keep tossing, dropping balls and making plays, banging throws off the downspout, off the porch railing, off the shed. Whats worse than the Red Sox losing? The Red Sox losing and the Yankees winning, which they do, coming back from a 60 deficit to nip the Mariners 76. Back to a onegame lead. Baltimore won as well. If this threeteam race keeps up, were in for a wild summer. Its kind of strange, knowing we wont see the Yanks again till the end of June, or the Os till late July. Im ready now. May 10th Brighams ice cream is coming out with a new flavor, Reverse the Curse. Vanilla with fudge sauce, caramel, chocolate and peanuts, the product looks suspiciously like their Big Dig, but I appreciate the sentiment. They say that after the Sox win this October, theyll have a contest to rename it. The paper says Nomar took batting practice in the cage yesterday, another hopeful sign, but theres still no schedule for his return. Trots headed back to Florida for more rehab on the quad. Also headed to Florida is Manny, to Miami, to become an American citizen. Hell miss tonights game against Cleveland. Hes lucky. This ones a mess from the very beginning. Besides Lou Merlonis return to Fenway, theres not much to cheer about. Kims ineffective, and the Indians can hit. They bang on the Monster three times in the first, giving Dauber a crash course in left field. He looks terrible on the first onegetting caught too close to the wall so Johnny has to come over and back him upbut on the last one he throws Ben Broussard out at second to end the inning. Dauber provides some offensive highlights as well, lining a tworun double off the wall and later homering into the Indians bullpen; he even backs up Johnny nicely on a double off the Bobs sign, but the story of the game is Kim. Hes topping out at 86 and cant find the plate. He and Tek get their signs mixed up, and an elusive passed ball scores two more. When Kim leaves with one out in the top of the fourth, hes thrown 80 pitches, 46 for strikes, and its 44 with the bases loaded. The sellout crowd boos. Lefty Lenny DiNardo comes in and gives up a single to outfielder Coco Crisp. Cleveland leads the rest of the way, and the rest of the way is mighty ugly, a parade of relievers for both teams. DiNardo gives up a run of his own, Embree gives up a pair (thanks to Timlin, who walks the first guy he sees and cant wriggle out of the jam), Malaska lets one in. Foulke, at least, throws a clean inning. Its a long game, lots of base runners. Clevelands line score says it all 2 2 0 2 0 1 2 0 1. The finals 106. No alibis, no one play to point to, we just plain stunk. The whole KimArroyo debates sure to heat up. I try not to overreact. Its just one game, and tomorrow weve got Pedro going. May 11th Theo and Francona dont waste any time Kims out of the rotation, Arroyos in. They must have made the decision after the game, since its in the morning paper. SO I really thought Mr. Kim would be an upgrade from John Burkett, but it sure doesnt look that way. As a manager, how do you rebuild his confidence? As a general manager, how do you showcase him so other teams dont quit on him? SK Im really, really glad Kim is out of the starting ro. SO Me too, but I had such high hopes for him. 190 innings, 15 wins. All shot to hell. Tonight its Cleveland at the Fens, and a rematch of Pedro versus C. C. Sabathia, who has to be the pimpest pitcher in the American League (maybe in all of baseball) big, baggy uni, hat worn cocked arrogantly to one side. Were not off to a good start. After striking out the first batter, Pedro has allowed three straight hits (the second one tainted, a bouncer from Omar Vizquel off first baseman David Ortizs glove) and Cleveland leads, 20. At least its a decent night for baseball. I may have said this before, but it bears repeating spring baseball in New England is usually rotten for the fans and sometimes dangerous for the players (especially the pitchers). I mean, night baseball in April? In Boston? Where the temperatures fortysix degrees and the wind blowing in off the Back Bay makes it feel like twentyseven? Id say youve got to be kidding me, but we all know Im not, just as we know its all about the money. Baseball is a lazy game, meant to be played on long, lazy summer afternoons and into the purple twilightwhen fans so inclined can exchange their iced tea or Cokes for cold beerbut money has changed all that. Tonight at least we have a foretaste of summer eighty degrees at game time, according to Joe Castiglione inthe radio booth, and coincidentally or not, its also Bostons eightieth straight home sellout. Stewart ONans there tonight, I think. Lucky dog. This older dog will be there a little later on this month, when the warmth may be a little more reliable. Meantime, I have to look back on my own preseason musings about how much the AL East has improvedOrioles, Jays, DRays, blahblahblahand smile a little bit. Because now, as the Red Sox play into the second inning of their thirtysecond contest of the season, its starting to look like a case of same as it ever was Red Sox and Yankees, duking it out for first, with the long, hot summer stretching ahead. The Sox had a fivegame bulge over the Yanks not long ago, but its been years since Boston seemed comfortable with anything like a real lead; they went into tonights game with just a halfgame pad over the secondplace Yankees and first place on the line. Baltimore is still in it, too, a game and a half back. My motherinlaw, meanwhile, with whom I watched a good many games in Florida, is now in the hospital with respiratory problems, but I know shell be watching on NESN. Theyre watching all over New England, tonight and every other night, in the hospitals, nursing homes, rehabs, and hospices. Its what we do, what weve done for going on a century now. Theyre hitting Pedro pretty well tonight, and were down 20 in the second, Cleveland with two more in scoring position, but Pedro has also struck out the side in the first inning, and two more in the second. I pause in front of this keyboard every time he throws. I want him to get those six Ks. So does my motherinlaw, Sarah Jane, over in St. Joes, not to mention Leo the shortorder cook at Nickys Diner down on Union Street, and Keith Jacubois at the Texaco station over in Montpelier. This is what we do, and weve finally got a decent night to do it on, and we may be behind, but there are no damn blackflies yet, and for the time being, were still in first place. Pedro walked Jody Miller, but now hes 02 on Red Sox killer Victor Martinez. He comes to the beltand strikes Victor out swinging. And all over New England theyre cheering in the hospitals, hospices, and roadside restaurants. When the Sox finally win this one two hours later, Pedro Martinez doesnt get the W; that goes to Alan Embree, who gives up a goahead gopher ball and then vultures the victory when the Sox come back in the bottom of the eighth. The win allows the Sox to stay in first, because the Yankees beat the Angelsfinally, after two rain delays, in front of approximately sixteen remaining fansin the Bronx, in ten. The final score is high and Kevin Brown doesnt get the win. The Yankees have finally started to roll, but their pitching remains suspect as evera good sign. And a rather endearing postscript having to do with our other Ramirez to wit, one Manny. In Cleveland, he was usually silent and often viewed as sullen even when he was clearly enjoying the game. In Bostona town where the sports reporters are often compared to the shark in Jawshe has become more expansive with each passing year; not even managements efforts in the offseason to trade him for ARod seem to have fazed him in the slightest, and by the kickoff of the 2004 festivities, Manny was downright chatty. Not stupid, though. Asked for a comment following the Sox fivegame massacre of the Yankees, Mannys deference was both charming and diplomatic They got all the World Series rings, man, he said. We got nothing. He has been the one completely dependable hitter in the Red Sox lineup this year, at this date in May batting roughly eighty points higher than Alex Rodriguez, the man for whom Theo Epstein hoped to trade him. He has played in every game of the season except for this Mondays (May 10th) trouncing by Cleveland, his old team. Manny was unavailable to play on that day because he was taking the U.S. citizenship testwhich he passed. At the start of tonights game he ran out to his position in left field with a big grin on his face and a small American flag in his right hand. Mannys People in left gave him a standing O. Way to go, Manny Ramirezwelcome to the real big leagues. May 12th Mr. Kims headed for Pawtucket, where they say hell throw only two innings at a time. Supposedly this will help him get back his velocity faster. Theo says BKs shown he can dominate major league hitters, and that that quality doesnt just go away, but its hard to tell if he truly believes this. A note in the Courants Sox column says that Trot took BP yesterday and hit some out, and that Nomar knocked a couple over the Monster. Its possible, since the Sox were batting a little before the gates opened. I didnt see Trot until after the game, congratulating the line of guys coming off, but I saw Nomar take around thirty swings, and nothing was close to going out. The website says righthanded reliever Jamie Brown will be taking Mr. Kims spot on the roster, making him something like our twentieth pitcher this season. Whatever happened to Bobby Jones? Instead of all these kid relievers, Id rather see them bring up a big righty stick like perennial tripleA prospect Andy Dominique for lateinning situations. Twelve pitchers seems like a luxury, and Im not sure were getting anything out of it. Theres such a traffic jam in the pen that Williamson hasnt thrown in six days. Tonight its Wake versus Cliff Lee, a young lefthander whos 30 with a nifty ERA. It seems every time the Indians have someone on, they take advantage of Wakes slow delivery and steal. Twice Bellhorn lets throws from Mirabelli skip by him into center. The Indians get a run in the second, and the third, and the fifth, and two in the sixth on a Monster shot by Tim Laker. Wakes just not sharp, and Lee is. In the ninth, down four, the crowd rallies. Its louder than its been all night when Daubers pinch double scores Bill Mueller. Johnny hits a hopper up the middle; Vizquel and Belliard look at each other, and it rolls into center, scoring Dauber. Its 64, and up to the plate steps the tying run in the form of Mark Bellhorn. The count goes 20, David Ortiz is on deck and Betancourt is sweating like Calvin Schiraldi. Just last week, Bellhorn hit that tworun shot in the ninth to tie the game against KCat the same score too, 66. He must be thinking the same thing, because he goes fishing for a couple balls well off the plate and Ks to end the game. So Cleveland takes two out of three from us, and we go 33 on the home stand. Now its off to Toronto for four gamesall against righties, mercifully. Please, please, let the Yankees lose. May 13th In the mail, a phantom piece a pennant with the Sox logo and printed signatures of all the players surrounding WORLD CHAMPIONS 1986. Earlier this week I received a phantom soda cup that would have been sold at Wrigley during the much anticipated SoxCubs World Series last year. Theyre not fakes, just survivors of large runs, the majority of which were destroyed by reality. On eBay Ive seen phantom tickets for playoffs and World Series dating back to the sixties, including some years in which we never even came close (say, 1970, 1987). Theres a twinge of pain attached to these nolongerpossible futures, but also, by the pieces existence, a validation of what should have happened. Unless something weird happens, were done for the season with Cleveland, and considering that we finished 34, thats probably a good thing. Looks like Wakefields carriage turned back into a pumpkin, Dad, my son Owen said during last nights postgame call. (Not so fast, kidWakes been down before, but hes never been out.) Now were on to Toronto, and what my other son likes to call the CreepyDome, because its been so empty over the last three or four yearsand especially now, while playoff hockey is still wending its slow way through the lower intestine of biggatime sport.Schilling is starting for us tonight, and since Toronto beat him last time when Schill insisted on holding on to the ball in the late innings, this should be a game worth watching. But first I have to watch Jeopardy. This is Political Gasbag Week, and I have to root for Keith Olbermann, himself a recent migr from the Land of BiggaTime Sport. Later This ones no masterpiece, Jerry Remy of the TV crew opines in the seventh inning of tonights tilt, and thats an understatement. Every pitcher seems to have one team he just cant seem to beat, and for Curt Schilling, its the Jays. He went into this game with only one victory against them in something like half a dozen tries (that one win came in his Diamondback days), and hes not going to improve on that record tonight. The final score is 126. Schill struggled, and hell probably get tagged with the loss, but thats not the real story of this game; he only gave up three runs, and the Sox have already scored twice that many as we play into the eighth. The story of the game isnt even the Red Sox defense, which has been horriblea Johnny Damon error in center let in two runs, and Mark Bellhorns failure to snag Frank Catalanottos foul pop cost another two (Catalanotto singled on the next pitch). No, the real problem, it seems to me, is that the Sox have turned lackluster in their last five games, playing catchup in four of them and only successfully in one of those. The Yankeeswon earlier today, beating the Angels (Mariano Rivera was shaky, but had just enough gas to survive a basesloaded jam in the ninth), and if things dont turn around, the Red Sox are going to find themselves with a 59 mark for the month of Mayand in second place. They need a shakeup. This may be where our new manager really starts earning his paycheckassuming he can, of course. Two final notes (unless the Sox pull it out, that is) Orlando Hudson has scored five of the Jays runs, tying a team record. (Ask me if I give a shit.) And on the radio, color commentator Jerry Trupiano has been reduced to wondering how the sitcom Frasier, which finishes its run tonight, turned out. Its been that kind of game. May 14th 740 A.M. Ordinarily I tune in to NESNs morning sports show, which runs on a constant fifteenminute loop from 5 A.M. to 9 A.M. seven days a week, while I do my pushups and crunches, but not today. Not even the thought of Jayme Parker, whos blond and very goodlooking, can motivate me into picking up the remote this morning. The Yankee win and the Red Sox sloppy D, combining to put the Bombers back into first (thank God I didnt have to look at the New York Post today), is bad enough; that look of lackluster, whocares sloppiness over the last few games is worse. Last night it even seemed to have gotten to Curt Schilling; I fancied I could read it in his dispirited dugout sprawl after he was lifted. Dammit, dont you guys know that ONan and I are counting on you to win the pennant? I want to shout, Wake up! It gets late early in this game so wake the hell up! Grumbling in the paper about Francona going to DiNardo and Malaska with games on the line. Why, Courant beat writer David Heuschkel asks, are we relying on our number eleven and twelve pitchers when weve got a stocked pen? The answers obvious, and goes back to the offseason. For several years weve been short on lefties, and we havent had a reliable middle guy since Rich GarcesEl Guapohurt his elbow. Theo never went out and dealt for a lefty, so in spring training we saw a logjam for the last bullpen spot, won, finally, by retread Bobby Jones, who lasted all of a week. The guy right behind him, Tim Hamulack, hasnt made it up yet, while DiNardo, Malaska and Phil Seibel have all seen work. Theo probably thought the middle relief was covered by Arroyo and Mendoza. Mendozas on the DL (as always); Arroyos now part of the starting rotation. Our only major league lefty, Embree, is a situational and setup guy who throws best when going an inning or less. So when Francona needs a lefty in the sixth to hold a game, he has to go with the kids. 950 P.M. Once upon a time (and it doesnt seem so long ago), there were no Eastern, Western, and Central Divisions; there was just the American League and the National League, with eight or nine teams each. The bottom four or five of these were known as the second division, and the bottom couple of teams were the cellardwellers. (Red Sox fans from the late fifties and early sixties came to know these terms well.) Last night and tonight, the Red Sox and the Blue Jays have played like seconddivision teams from 1959Boston and Washington, lets say, battling it out for a sloppy nine in front of a few thousand dozy afternoon fans (many of them more interested in their newspapers than the game unfolding in front of them) while the Yankees cruised the stratosphere twenty or so games above them both in the standings. Tonight the Red Sox are leading 93 as we go to the bottom of the ninth, but Derek Lowe was once more miles from sharp (its Alan Embrees game to win, he of the bright blue eyes, scruffy beard, and amazing cheekful o chaw), and the Sox scored most of their runs in one inning during which the hapless Jays chucked the pill everywhere, including into the stands. The best things you can say about tonights performance are that well keep pace with the Yankees, who are also winning, and that better days are coming, both defensively and on the mound. Meantime, at least its a win at SkyDome. May 15th Its eightynine degrees, a record, and my old car, which I just got back from the shop, breaks down on the commercial strip in townmaybe vapor lock? While Im outside Party City waiting for the wrecker, a guy pulls up with the game on and waits while his wife runs inside. Whos winning? I just turned it on, he says. I know McCarty has an RBI. He sees my Fenway 1912 shirt, I see hisfrom last years ALCSand he gets out to talk. In February he went down to the Civic Center to see the Sox Winter Caravan and got autographs from Kevin Millar and Bill Mueller. I was worried it would be weird, you know, the bigkid thing, but once I got up to the table, I got this smile on my face, and the guys were cool. We weigh our chances for the season. Now theres a rumor Nomar might have a tear, he says, not just a strain like theyve been saying. He also wonders why Trots taking so long to come back from a hamstring, and we bat around the possibility of him being on steroids (or off them now). His wife returns, and theyve got to run. Go Sox! she calls, and theyre gone. The tow truck comes, finally, and Trudy, to drive me home. Its too hot upstairs, so I go down to the cool basement and watch the rest of the game on her parents old TV. Its 40 Sox, and Arroyos only given up three hits. Hes going after guys with his fastball, dropping his sweeping curve in for strikes. Torontos a goodhitting club, and the SkyDomes a launching pad, but hes putting down Wells, Delgado and Hinske in order. Theres a grounder to third, and to my surprise, Kevin Youkilis fields it. Bill Muellers knee is aching, so Francona doesnt want him playing on Torontos hard turf. When Youkilis comes up to bat, they show him earlier in the game, hitting his first major league home run and then trotting back to the dugout, where the guys give him the silent treatmenta tradition with rookies. Youkilis gets it, giving phantom high fives. Only after he sits down do the guys break up and congratulate him.


Arroyos making his case to be the number five starter. Yesterday, in Pawtucket, in the first inning of his first start, Kim gave up a threerun homer. Trade rumors are cropping up, the most notable, Kim and Johnny D to Seattle for Freddy Garcia, who we then ship to KC for Carlos Beltran. Beltrans a serious fivetool player, but Id hate to lose Johnnys laidback personality. Hes a fan favorite, especially with the ladies, and great for the clubhouse. Though Id love to see Beltran in right and Johnny in center. But look at the team we have on the field right now Arroyo and Mirabelli, Youkilis, Crespo, Bellhorn and Ortiz, McCarty, Damon and Millar. And were winningon the road. Arroyo goes eight, giving up 3 hits, walking none and striking out 6. Foulke closes easily (something Im getting accustomed to), and though my car broke down and Ive gotten nothing done today, Im happy. In the Bronx, the Yanks are in extra innings against Seattle, tied 77. I watch for a couple innings, but not a lots happening, and theres yardwork to be done. After dinner, when I check ESPN, the finals a lopsided 137, Seattle. Once Rivera was gone, the Mariners feasted on Gabe White. So were in first again, barely. SO And it will forever be known as The Day of the Youkilis. SK The Revenge of Moneyball. May 16th And the Os lost again, so we gained ground on them too. I know its pointless to be scoreboardwatching in May, but I cant help it, just as I cant help looking for the Pirates score (we beat the Giants again) and seeing if were still in the cellar. In their search for a number five starter, the Yankees pick up former Devil Ray Tanyon Sturtze from the Dodgers for a player to be named later. Sturtzes 30 for tripleA Las Vegas, but is that really the best Brian Cashman and George can do? Wait till July and the trade deadline. In Toronto, its PedroHalladay III, a series Im growing fond of. Pedro won the first two, and Manny gives him a 10 lead with an RBI single in the first. Both aces look good, setting the sides down quickly. In the bottom of the fourth, Youkilis misplays a carpet hopper from Vernon Wells. You cant do that in a close game, I tell him through the TV. Especially with Carlos up next. Delgado makes my fears a reality, taking a high fastball over the rightfield fence. 21 Toronto. Besides that one mistake to a quality hitter, Pedro looks good. In the sixth, he gives up another run on a blooper by Reed Johnson that Johnny gets a late jump on. Halladays over 120 pitches and finished after seven. Likewise, Pedros over 100 and done. We have two full innings to go after their relievers. With one out in the eighth, Ortiz doubles. Rather than let Manny tie the game with one swing, Carlos Tosca decides to put him on. Its an easy decision. Dauber goes down looking, Tek goes 02 before popping to first, and thats our best chance. Terry Adams works a scoreless ninth and Doc Halladay finally beats us. Its not disappointing. Im sure Pedros not happy, but Roy Boy threw well. It was a good, tight game with Hall of Fame matchups like HalladayManny and PedroDelgado. Major League Baseball, and you cant gripe about that. The Yanks play a similar game, but get it done, Kevin Brown going to 50 as they beat the Ms 21 and move back into first. After a brief return to first place (one daya cup of coffee, really) the Red Sox gently subside once more to second, half a game behind the Yankees. The most notable event of our final two games in the CreepyDomewhich was actually pretty full for the weekend gameswas the major league debut of Kevin Youkilis, subbing for Bill Mueller (sore knee). Youkilis hit a home run in his first atbat and will bear watching if only because he personifies the Moneyball mindset and strategy, which can be defined as a way of thinking that both arises from and revolves around onbase percentage. Youkilis, the socalled Greek God of Walks, tied a minorleague record, reaching base in seventyone straight games,and its sort of a wonder its taken him as long as it has to reach the bigs, especially under the umbrella of Major Theo. It will be interesting to see how he develops, and how much PT he gets as the season heats up. May 18th In the mail, a box from Steve with a YANKEES HATER cap in Sox colors. The logo, yh, is designed so it looks the same upsidedown. Cool hat, Steph says, and once he puts it on, its his. Driving him to his sax lesson, I tell him about another YANKEES HATER cap I saw Steve wearing earlier in the year. It was black with an orange logo, like a Giants cap. Do the Giants hate the Yankees? he asks. I try to remember if the Yanks ever beat those great early Mays teams (just once, in 51, when they were still the New York Giants). It takes me a minute to recall the 62 World Series, when Bobby Richardson snagged Willie McCoveys liner. It was the Yanks last preSteinbrenner championship. No, I say, theyre too busy hating the Dodgers. And then I realize that, though you never hear them bandied about as a cursed or hardluck club, the San Francisco Giants have never won a World Series. Although it might have just been my imagination (Ive been accused of having an overactive one), I thought I heard cries of Dead team walking! tonight in the hollow airconditioned confines of Tropicana Field. How avidly Lou Piniella, fiery competitor that he is, must be dining upon his own liver these days! The Devil Rays (until further notice to be called the hapless Devil Rays in this fans notes) looked much improved on paper, but as one wit or another has surely pointed out, baseball games arent played on paper, and the DRaysexcusezmoi, the hapless DRayshave the worst record in the majors, just 10 wins against 27 losses after tonights contest, which the Red Sox won, 73. In a game last week, new citizen Manny Ramirez trotted out to his position carrying a small American flag. Tim Wakefield declined to go out to his tonight with a burprag over his shoulder, but maybe he should have; it was his first game as a new dad, and what better place to celebrate than the Trop, where hes never been beaten? As for the Yankees, theyre on the West Coast, so I can go to bed safe in the knowledge that were at least tied for first place. May 19th First thing in the morning, I walk down the driveway to the road for the paper, pull it out of the box and unfold the front page. The headers in redPERFECT GAME FOR RANDY JOHNSON; YANKS LOSE IN 11. I laugh and head back to the house. Its already a good day. Tonight its Schilling versus Rob Bell, just brought up from tripleA. Bells all over the place and Schillings solid. Its tied 11 in the third when Johnny goes deep, and a fan makes a nice barehanded catch of it in the rightfield stands. Of course, theres no one near him to interfere. Later Don will announce the paid attendance as 13,690, but the Trop looks even emptier than last night. Two batters later, Bell is 30 to Ortiz and throws too nice of a strike. David has the big green light and doubles, adding to his leagueleading total. Bell falls behind Manny with two down and first base open, but Lou decides to pitch to him, even though Manny hit a 390foot fly to dead center his first time up. After Bell throws one to the backstop on the fly, Manny hits a 420foot homer to dead center, and its 41. After seven, Schilling gives way to Embree, who gets an out and then a Rocco Baldelli grounder to Bellhorn that should be the second out. Bellhorn bobbles it and throws to first. Its a close play, but the ump calls Baldelli safe. Bellhorns puzzled; he thought he got him. Its not until were well into the count on Aubrey Huff that a second replay shows that he did indeed get him. Huff then hits a nubber to the right side that Embree thinks he has a shot at. He doesnt. Ortiz fields it and turns to throw the ball to Embree, but Embrees brain has shortcircuited, and hes stopped. Bellhorn races over to cover but its too late. Tino Martinez flies to center, advancing Baldelli to third, and with runners on the corners and two out, Francona goes to Foulke. Its one of Bill Jamess pet theorems that the most important atbat often isnt in the ninth, so theres no reason to hold off bringing in your closer. In this case, its a nobrainer Foulkes a better pitcher than Embree, and all were asking him for are four outs. On a 32 count, Robert Fick hits a smash off Ortizs chest that ricochets into foul ground. Ortiz scrambles after it, and, unlike Embree, Foulke hustles over to cover and makes the play to end the inning. Foulke throws a onetwothree ninth, and thats the game, another uneventful win. Besides the two homers, the only play to savor was Pokey ranging to the rightfield side of second to steal a hit from Geoff Blum, and Pokeys played so well that were almost used to that kind of highlight. And used to winning this kind of game a quality start, just enough hitting for a cushion, then a shaky setup and a solid close. I suppose I shouldnt complain about the lack of drama. Later, checking my email, I come across a story that says the Yankees are dropping Cracker Jack from their concession stands, going instead with Crunch N Munch, which they say tastes better (and still comes in a box). George, youre insane. May 20th Yanks won, Os won, so the East remains the same. Lieber looked good, which is a worry. Contreras is iffy, so the Yanks still dont have a real number five guy, but if Brown and Vazquez and Lieber throw as well as they have, theyll stick around. At some point the Os hitters are going to fall into a slump, and their pitching wont carry them. More injury woes. Williamson, whos been complaining of soreness in his elbow for a few weeks, finally gets it checked out. Bill Muellers knee was hurting him again last night, so hes flown back to Boston for an MRI. And Mannys at DH again because of a tender groin. This is turning into the photo negative of last year, when everybody was healthy. The Sox won last night and so, out on the Left Coast, did the Yankees, so Boston maintains its halfgame fingerhold on the top spot. Its far too early to worry about whos in first (although never too early to worry about whos on first), but its important to keep pace, and so far were doing that. I stand by my beliefor maybe its an intuitionthat the wildcard team wont come out of the AL East this year, but if the race were over today, the Yankees would be that team, beating the White Sox in the Central Division for the spot by a mere half a game. Anaheimthe team the Yankees beat last night, and one the Sox have yet to playhas the best record in baseball, at 2613. The Red Sox, not far behind at 2416, have cobbled together a winning teamand, perhaps just as important, a winning chemistryout of what amounts to spare parts, and I have to wonder what happens when Trot and Nomar come back (in last nights pregame show, Theo Epstein said they were both getting close). The question isnt whether or not theyre good enough to play for the Red Sox; thats a nobrainer. The real question is how quickly they can get up to speed, and who goes where once they do. I think that the original plan was for Pokey Reese to play second and Mark Bellhorn to ride the bench, but Bellhorn has been clutch for the Sox during the first seven weeks of the season. Not spectacular, like Manny Ramirez, whos currently batting something like one point for every day of the year, but clutch just the same. So who rides the pine when Nomar comes back? Probably it will be Bellhorn, but I hate to lose his bat (and his discerning eye at the plate). And while I wont miss Kevin Millara bit in right fieldhe made another one of those absurd shoestring attempts last night, during Schillings rocky first inningI am anxious about how quickly Trot and Nomar can ramp up their bats. No matter. On to the important stuff. Baseball is a great game because you can multitask in so many ways and never miss a single pitch. I find I can read two pages of a book during each commercial break, for instance, which adds up to four an inningmore if theres a pitching change. Thus its sometimes possible to read as many as forty pages a game, although its usually less, because there are always bathroom breaks and fridge runs. Then theres the Face Game. I play this by keeping an eye on the faces of the spectators behind home plate. Some nights Ill run a tenpoint NosePicking Competition, which can be played solitaire or with a friend (you get the odd innings, your friend the even ones). Ten is a good number to play to in this game, Ive found, but when playing Cell Phone, you have to play to at least twentyone, because these days almost everyone has one of those annoying little puppies. (Hi, hon, Im at the ballpark. What? Oh, not much, Rays are down by threeI hear people whispering Dead team walking under their breathits a little spookyBring home a quart of milk?sure, okay, call you latergotta pick my nose on national TV firstokay, love you toobye.) And last nightremember, I never lost the thread of the game during this, thats the beauty of baseballI had this wonderful idea for a story. What if a guy watches a lot of baseball games on TV, maybe because hes a shutin or an invalid (or maybe because hes doing a book on the subject, poor schmuck), and one night he sees his best friend from childhood, who was killed in a car crash, sitting in one of the seats behind the backstop? Yow! And the kid is still ten! He never claps or cheers (never picks his nose or talks on his cell phone, for that matter), just sits there and watches the gameor maybe hes watching the main character of the story, right through the TV. After that the protagonist sees him every night at every game, sometimes at Fenway, sometimes at Camden Yards, sometimes at the CreepyDome up in Toronto, but every time there are more people the poor freakedout guy knew, sitting all around him this guys dead friends and relatives, all sitting in the background at the ballpark. I could call the story Spectators. I think its a very nasty little idea. Meanwhile, Derek Lowe goes for us tonight, and here is an interesting little factoid the hapless Devil Rays are almost forty games into the baseballseason and havent yet won two games in a row. Lou Piniella must be finished with his liver and thinking of moving on to his kidneys. Its a shame, but weve got a job to do here, and hopefully DeeLowe will do his part. For the final game in Tampa its Lowe versus Victor Zambrano, a decent matchup, at least until they take the mound. Zambrano has a weird first, alternately walking and striking out hitters, finally getting Tek looking to leave the bases loaded. Lowe responds by giving up a single through the middle to former option QB Carl Crawford, then letting him steal second and third. With one out, the infields back, and another grounder scores him. Both pitchers settle down in the second, but in the third, with one down, Lowe gives up a single to Brook Fordyce. Then, on 02, he leaves a pitch up to Crawford, who doubles down the line. With the infield in, Baldelli bounces one through the middle. 30 Tampa Bay. Huff nearly skulls Lowe with a line single, then Tino singles on a pitch above the waist. 40. Dave Wallace visits, meaning were going to leave him in. Its a mistake. Jose Cruz Jr., whos hitting under .200, doubles to leftcenter. 60. Lenny DiNardos warming, but Francona cant get him in quick enough, as little Julio Lugo takes Lowe off the wall in left for the seventh straight hit. 70 DRays, and thats it for DLowe. Zambrano follows with his own nightmare inning, loading the bases with nobody out and giving up three runs. In the fifth, Tek puts one on a catwalk and Johnny doubles in two more. Thats as close as we get. Timlin and Jamie Brown conspire to give up two runs, putting it out of reach. The DRays pitchers walked 10, but they also struck out 15, including Manny four times, while the only pitcher of ours who had any success was DiNardo. A complete mess, cancelling out Schillings easy win last night. A bigger worry Lowe, supposedly the best number three starter in baseball, hasnt won this month. May 21st Its the revenge of the header MUSSINA LEADS YANKS PAST ANGELS, 62. We lose ugly to a lastplace club while they beat the team with the best record in baseball (and on top of that, beat their ace, Colon). At least the Os lost; otherwise it would be a total wipeout. Im trying to be optimistic and look ahead, but tonight its Arroyo versus Halladay. Our travel day knocked the two rotations out of sync, so Pedros facing the lefty Lilly tomorrow. On Sunday, the game well be at, we get the far less interesting Wake versus Miguel Batista. We need two out of three from these guys, but right now the pitching matchups are in Torontos favor. Halladays stronger than Arroyo, and we have trouble against lefties and historically dont give Pedro much run support. WakeBatistas a tossup. Maybe its just last nights game thats bothering me. If Arroyo can match Halladay and get us to their pen, we should win, and Pedros flatout better than Lilly. Batistas ERAs around 5 and, like Zambrano, he walks a lot of batters. If we hit and Wake has the knuckler fluttering, we could sweep. The offfield news is that Johnnys shaving his beard for a literacy program at the Boston Public Library. Gillettes sponsoring the event to kick off their new line of razors. A crowd gathers on the plaza by the Prudential Center to watch some hot models lather him up. He sits still while they take the blades to his face, but in the end he finishes the tricky spots himself. He looks younger, babyfaced, and with his long mane hes got the ElvisasIndianbrave thing going on. DeeLowe was deereadful, but tonight the Red Sox are back at the Fens, and for the first time this year Im in the house. Its a beautiful night for baseball, too, sixtynine degrees at game time. Ray Slyman, who works for Commonwealth Limousine and has been driving me and my family to Red Sox games ever since the kids were small, is usually an optimist about Bostons chances, so Im surprisedno, Im shockedto find him sounding downbeat tonight, even though last nights loss coupled with the Yankees win on the West Coast has left us only half a game out of first. It makes me uneasy, too. Partly because Rays in the car all day and listens to all the radio sports shows (discounting the crazies who call in as a matter of course); thus hes hip to all the current gossip. Mostly because Rays one smart cookie. Its from Ray that I first hear the idea that Nomar should be back right now, and DHing. Its also from Ray that I hear a lot of fans are beginning to lose patience with Nomar; once the season begins, major league baseball quickly becomes a game of whathaveyoudoneformelately, and in Boston, cries of Play him or trade him! are beginning to be heard. Coming into the ballpark, lots of folks tell me hi. Most call me Steve.One woman tells her boyfriend, Look, theres Steven Spielberg! This is more common than you might think, and I sometimes wonder if people point at the famous director and tell each other that its Stephen King. The guy selling programs just outside Gate A pauses just long enough in his spiel to ask me how Im feeling. I tell him Im feeling fine. He says, Do you thank God? I tell him, Every day. He says, Right on, brutha, and goes back to telling people how much they need a program, how much they need a scorecard, just two dollars unless youre a Yankee fan, then you pay four. Do you thank God? Every day. Yes indeed I do. Im blessed to be alive at all, and have the sense to know it. Its especially easy to give thanks walking into Fenway Park under my own power on a beautiful spring night in May. (Were inside the TV, I once heard a wondering child say after getting his first look at all that green.) Im still considering the novel idea of Nomar Garciaparra as the designated hitter when a woman cardiologist throws out the first pitch. She may be a hell of a doc, but she still throws like a girl. We all give her a big hand, and we give the Red Sox a bigger one when they hit the field in their fine white home uniforms. I feel the same thrill I did when I saw them go out there for the first time, at the age of eleven or twelve, on an afternoon when the Tigers were their opponents and Al Kaline was still playing for them, and my arms prickle when John Fogerty starts singing Centerfield over the PA. They prickle again at the end when the Red Sox put away the Jays, 115, and the crowd starts out with the Standells singing Dirty Water. Every ballpark has its eccentricities. One of my Fenway favesmany fans hate itis the lateinning playing of Neil Diamonds Sweet Caroline. I have no idea when this started or why fans took it to their hearts (its such a forgettable song), but there you are; its just a Fenway Thing, like The Wave.The first notes of this song cause great excitement.When Neil sings Sweeeeet Caroline! in the chorus, thirty thousand people respond at once (and with no apparent prompting), WHOAHOHO! at the top of their voices. And when he adds, Good times never seemed so good! the crowd responds, So good! So good! So good! How do these things get started? Theres simply no telling, but such thingswhich occur when the TVwatching world is stuck with yet another Meet me at Foxwoods jingleare very much a part of not just the ballpark experience but your ballpark experience what makes home home. Man, I had a great time tonight. Manny Ramirez hit a moonshot, Mike The Hardest Workin Man in Showbiz Timlin got the win, and I was there to see it all with my friend Ray. Oh, and Kevin Youkilis, aka The Greek God of Walks, was up to his old tricks. In the bottom of the second inning, after getting behind 02, he fouled off a bunch of pitches from Roy Halladay, last years Cy Young winner, and finally worked a walk. He scored. Later, in the eighth, he walked and scored again. Its an OBPC thing onbase per centage. May 22nd When they dont announce the gametime temperature at Fenway, you know youre in trouble, and tonight they didnt. It was overcast and raw at 705 P.M., when the game started; raw and downright coldwhen it ended at about ten past ten. I still havent warmed up. At 1045, Im typing this with hands that feel like clubs. Tingly clubs. Still, its all good. We won, the Yankees lost down in Texas, and all at once theres a tiny bit of daylight (a game and a half) between us and second place. Ted Lilly pitched extremely well for the Blue Jays tonight, and had a tworun lead going into the sixth inning. That was when Manny Ramirez launched his second home run in the last two games over the leftfield wall and into the night. Its the big dinger thatll get the ink in the newspapers tomorrow, but the key hit of the inningand probably the key to the whole gamewas Mark Bellhorns infield single in the sixth, which caromed off Lillys shin, hurried him from the game, and thus got us into Torontos less than reliable bullpen. Without Bellhorn on first, no chance for Manny to tie things up; QED. And an inning later, Youkilis, the rookiewith the big onbaseaverage reputation, led off with a single and scored what proved to be the winning run. Keith Foulke was once more lightsout in the ninthnine saves in nine opportunitiesand Im two for two this year at Fenway Park. And my hands are finally starting to warm up. See? Its all good. May 23rd Its Vermont Day at Fenway, and were the first ones in Gate E. Last time out I was discouraged by my net play, and the usher in Section 163 told me not to give up. Hes glad to see me back, and Im glad for the support. Steph thinks Im nuts. We get the good spot on the corner, but theres a portable screen set up at third base so only a hooking liner can reach us. And the security guy says I cant go after any balls in fair territory, a rule which seems arbitrary to me. The only balls Ill have a shot at will be liners that bounce off the Monster and back along the wall, and about ten minutes in, thats exactly what Nomar hits. The ball rolls to a stop twenty feet behind us. No one can reach it from the high wall there, but I should be able to drag it closer and scoop it. I climb over the seats and section dividers until Im in position above it. I cant quite reach it, and stretch as far as I can with one hand, just nudging and then covering the balland drop the net. It lies ten feet below me across the foul line. What an idiot. Steph, Im sure, is pretending he doesnt know me. I figure the security guy will come out and confiscate it; at best, hell give me a lecture. Gabe Kaplers witnessed my embarrassment, and saunters over, shaking his head. I think hes going to take the ball from under the net and toss it to someone more deserving to teach me a lesson, but he throws it right to me. Then he takes the net and jogs back out to left with it. He could have used it last night, someone says. For a while Gabe keeps his glove on and holds the net with one hand, but then he says the hell with it and tosses the glove. Manny and Nomar are up, spraying the ball around. When a Manny liner bounces to the side of him, he stabs at it and misses cleanly. See, its not as easy as it looks. After about five minutes of just standing there with the net, he brings it back over. I get a picture of himproof for Trudy. Another guy comes by and asks if that was me he saw up on the Monster a few weeks ago, and I find that I like this minor celebrity. Steph says a Sox photographer just took a picture of me. Were also visited by Chip Ainsworth, the reporter who interviewed me the first time I brought the net. He says we should see a game together from the press box. I worry a little about that blurry line between journalist and fan, but then I think man, the press box! Steve arrives in his YANKEES HATER cap, and I go over to hang out with him and Steph. On the endpages of the John Sandford novel hes reading, hes scored the last two games. Its been a while, and we fall to talking, interrupted from time to time by folks who want to take a picture of him. Were sitting there discussing Mannys hot streak and Wakes last few starts when one of the Sox comes out and signs along the wall two sections down. From the inchhigh brush cut, it can only be Tek. Its his day off, with Mirabelli catching Wake. I excuse myself and climb over the section dividers and then wait in the crush. Go ahead and take the sweet spot, I tell him. Its all yours. Teks signature is neat and readable. Thanks to eBay, Ive seen it dozens of times, both authentic versions and fakes. He never finishes the final kick of the k, so it reads J Varitel, 33. On the pearl it looks superclean, and I thank him and carry it by the seams like some weird breaking ball, making sure not to smudge the ink. I got a shot of you, Steph says. Yeah, Steve says, we got a picture of you pushing those little kids out of the way. Hey, they were pushing me. Wake looks good in the first, striking out his first two batters. Batista looks awful, walking Johnny on four pitches around his ankles. Orlando Hudson doesnt help him, booting Bellhorns easy grounder, and David Ortiz scorches a groundrule double into the seats just past the Pesky Pole. 10 Sox. Manny Ks chasing a 32 pitch, Dauber walks, then Millar walks in a run. Batistas thrown 25 pitches, only 7 for strikes. After Youkilis strikes out, Mirabelli comes up with bases loaded and fouls one behind him, high off the facade of the .406 Club. Last year, a ball hit in that same spot ricocheted off the glass at an angle and landed in the row behind us. I turn, keeping my eye on it, and here it comes, right at me (Steph thinks I think this about every ball). The sun is blinding, and Im not wearing shades, so all I see as it falls is a tiny black dot surrounded by white light. Its going to be just short, and I reach above everyone. I feel it hit, then feel nothing, and I think its gone, that Ive missed itthen look down, and there it is in my glove. Maybe because its the first inning, or because it was a crazy angle, or because the bases are loaded and were up two runs, but the crowd goes nuts. I hold my glove up and take in the applauseunexpected and exhilaratingand slap hands with Steph and Steve. When I sit down, my hearts pounding and Im shivery inside my skin. I thought Id missed it, so its a guilty thrilla freak accomplishment I doubt even now. I dont have time to think about it, because Mirabelli fouls off the next pitch the exact same waycaroming off the same pane of glass and dropping two rows behind Steve. Im up and ready in case it bounces my way, but its smothered and picked up. Batista gets Mirabelli and gets out of it. In the second he has to strike out Dauber to leave them loaded again. This guys terrible, I say. We should be up at least four nothing. Were not hitting with men on, Steve complains, and Mason, a neighbor in the front row, shows us a thirtypage stat sheet that has the season completely broken down. So far with the bases loaded, weve hit two doubles and twelve singles. Johnny and Pokey have the doubles. Johnny and Pokey also have the most hits with bases loaded, three each. Kapler and Bill Mueller are 04, Ortiz, Dauber and Crespo 03. Wake throws an easy third, and we finally cash in on Batista, scoring four. Ortiz has the big hit, a twoout, tworun double, making him 3 for 3 with 3 RBIs. Its 60 and Batistas thrown 90 pitches. Now that Wake has a big lead, he gets sloppy, loading the bases with no outs and going 30 on Delgado. Delgado singles, bringing in two, before Timmy gets a doubleplay ball from Phelps and a firstpitch flyout from Hinske. A sudden roar and wave of applause from the thirdbase side. Its someone famous climbing the stairs between two grandstand sections. Because its Vermont Day, I think maybe its Fisk, a Vermont native, but the tall grayhaired mans surrounded by so much security that I know without even seeing his face that its John Kerry. As if to prove his loyalty, hes wearing a Sox warmup jacket. Later, when he comes back from the concession stand, I see hes in the second row, and I think our seats are better. We pick up another run in the seventh to make it 72, and Timlin and Embree close it with little difficulty, but two things happen that are worth noting. In the eighth, Cesar Crespo, whos turned three double plays today, and missed a fourth only because Bellhorns throw pulled Ortiz off the bag, makes an error and is loudly booed. Then in the ninth, when Francona puts in the hands team and Pokeys name is announced, the crowd gives him a sustained ovation. Its taken Pokey three years to get here, but now that he is, hes a favorite. Even among skeptics like Steph and Steve and myself, whenever a ball skips through the middle or drops in short center, we say, Pokey woulda had it. We win, but on the outoftown scoreboard, the Yanks are up 73 on the Rangers. In the car, its a final, 83 Yanks, so were still only a game and a half up. When we get home, I find out that Bill Mueller wasnt even there today. He was out in Arizona, getting a second opinion on his knee. Regardless of the result, its bad news. Youkilis better take some extra grounders. My third straight game at Fenway and my third straight win. Im starting to feel like if Id been here from the start of the season, wed be ten games in first (God will get me for saying that). Stewart came with his son, Steph, both of them equipped with gloves. Doug Mirabelli banged a foul off the glass facing of the .406 Club in the first inning; Stew turned, stretched and caught it neatly just as the sun came out. The crowd up the firstbase line gave him a spirited ovation. Stew had class enoughand wit enoughto tip his cap. It was a nice moment, and Im glad his son was there to see it. So Wakefield gets the win, the Red Sox sweep the Blue Jays, and our bullpen was pretty much untouchable throughout. Kevin Youkilis? Glad you asked. The Greek God of Walks reached base three times (one fielders choice, two bases on balls) and scored once.