May 24th Seems like we always have a day off just when were getting hot. It gives me time to prepare for tomorrows first meeting with Oakland since last years Division Seriesbound to be loud. Its a sweet matchup Schilling versus Tim Hudson, whos 51 with a 2.90 ERA. Its Foulkes first game against his old club, and Terry Franconas, and of course Scott Hatteberg will get a couple of hits, and maybe Johnny Damon. Mark Bellhorn was also an A once, though a lowprofile one. With all the turnover lately (and Dan Duquettes endless fire sale of our best prospects), its hard to find a club that doesnt have some Sox connection. Tonights the Nomar Bowl in Malden, where dozens of Boston sports celebrities and their fans get together at Town Lanes and roll a couple of strings for charity. My friend Pauls wife Lisa is taking some balls for Nomie to sign, and one of thems for me. May 25th Its eighty degrees in Hartford; in Boston its fifty. I thought Id be warm enough in a corduroy shirt, but Im not. Waiting with me outside Gate E is a guy with a giant black wig. I think hes one of Damons Disciples, but its a MannyasBuckwheat wig, a wild, lopsided fro. He and a friend are sitting on the Monster; tomorrow theyre in the .406 Clubthey shelled out for the very tickets Id seen on eBay and seriously contemplated buying, just cause Ive never sat there. The .406 Club has rules no jeans, and you have to bring a credit card to buy drinks (theres a free buffet). During the standard tour of Fenway, the guide says when they finished construction, they realized that because of the thickness of the glass, the room is virtually soundproof. They had to install speakers so customers could hear the game. Any other day, Id say the .406 Club is no place to watch the Sox, but tonight the idea of being inside is tempting. The gates roll open and I hoof it down to the corner in left. I nab a couple of balls in BP and report my haul to my favorite usher Bob, then stop by Autograph Alley to see whos signing. Its Rich Gale, a pitcher who was with us briefly in 84, then came back to coach in the early nineties. I remember that he pitched in Japan, and ask him to sign his picture with Ganbatte! You mean Ganbatte mas!  he says. It turns out he pitched for the Hanshin Tigers. The Red Sox of Japan! Thats rightand I was there in 85, the first year we won it. That must have been pretty wild. Oh yeah, he says, and stops writing, as if he hasnt thought of that time in a while, and his expression is both ecstatic and guilty, as if hes recalling infinite, ultimate pleasures. I have him add HANSHIN TIGERS 8586 and leave him with a loud Ganbatte! Over at the seats, Steves reading a suspense novel. Our neighbor Mason delivers the bad news Bill Muellers having arthroscopic knee surgery and will be out at least six weeks. Its another blow, but Youkilis has done such a good job offensively that theres no panic. If Nomar gets back soon, we can put Pokey at second, as planned, slide Bellhorn over to third, and still have a solid backup. Again, were all thinking of that magical day when Trot and Nomar come back, when right now were playing fine without them. Temperature at game time, Carl Beane announces, fortyeight degrees. It makes me think of spring training, and how happy those Minnesotans were to escape their weather. Here were proud of it. Fortyeight? Itll get down to fortytwo by games end. Tack on the windchill and were talking midthirties. Its overcast and very chilly tonightshit, call a spade a spade, its cold. My colleague Stewart ONan is undaunted. He shows up applecheeked and grinning, toting a bag of scuffed balls he shagged in BP. (Proudest acquisition a David Ortiz swat.) The Weston High School Chorusall nine thousand of them, apparentlyline the first and thirdbase lines to sing the national anthem, and the sound, which comes bouncing back from the Green Monster in perfect echoes that double each line, is spooky and wonderful. Stewart, meanwhile, is off trying to give Gabe Kapler a photo of Kapler holding Stews custom flyshagging netwhich, some wits might argue, Kapler could put to good use during his tours of duty in right field. The Red Sox (who will go on to romp in this one) put up just a single run in the bottom of the firstnot much, considering that they once again send seven men to the plate. The Sox stats this year with bases loaded and two out are pretty paralyzing just 12 for 54, only two of those for extra bases (both doubles), all the rest mere singles. This time Kevin Cowboy Up Millar is the goat, grounding weakly to first. He leaves two more on base in the third, and leaves em loaded again in the fourth. The Sox score three that frame, but Millar has stranded eight men all by himself, and the game isnt half over. I bet his agent wont be bringing that stat up at contract time. Even without Millar doing much (anything, really), its 91 after five, Tim Hudsons gone, Oaklands baked, and Im on my way to my fourthstraight Fenway win. Mark Bellhorn gets 5 RBIs, Manny Ramirez hits another home run, and Kevin Youkilis reaches base four times in five atbats, scoring twice. There are lots of things to like about this game in spite of the cold. But maybe the besttheres this little kid, okay? Ten, maybe twelve years old. And late in the game, after a lot of people have taken off, he grabs one of the frontrow seats, and I spot him and Stewart deep in conversation, cap visor to cap visor. They dont know each other from Adam, and theres got to be thirty years between them, but baseball has turned them into instant old cronies. Anyone looking over their way would take them for father and son. And whats wrong with that? May 26th Two number fives on the downward slide Mr. Kim returns to Korea for unspecified treatment of his back and hip, while the Yankees give Donovan Osborne his outright release. Its late May, and the Yankees havent figured out their rotation. Having Bronson Arroyo definitely gives us the edge. Tonight its the struggling Derek Lowe against Mark Redman, 32 with a 3.60 ERA. By comparison, Lowes ERA is 6.02. We have Stephs sax recital and then dinner after, and get back in the As fifth. Its 62 Sox with two down and no one on. I figure Lowe must be throwing okay. Kotsay doubles, Byrnes singles him in. Chavez homers off the wall behind Section 34, and its 65. I wonder if its meif I should turn the TV off and come back later. Im glad I dont. In our sixth, Johnnys on third with one down. Ortiz cant deliver him, and with two down and first open, Macha has Redman walk Manny. At this point, Redmans thrown 120 pitches. The switchhitting Tek is coming up, so with his relievers up and warm, Macha can choose which side of the plate he hits from. He lets Redman pitch to him. Tek hits one onto Lansdowne Street and weve got a fourrun cushion again. Anastacio Martinez relieves Lowe, giving up three straight hits and a run before Embree comes on and gets out of it with a doubleplay ball. In the As eighth, they have two on and one out when Billy McMillon stings one down the firstbase line. McCarty gloves it behind the bag in foul territory; his momentum takes him halfway to the tarp before he spins and throws to Timlin covering. McMillon slides and gets tangled up with Timlinhes out! The replays crazy Ive never seen anyone make that play so far in foul ground, and perfectly. Thats exactly why McCartys on the team. It makes me wish I could send him back to 1986 to spell Billy Buck for an inning. In the ninth, McCarty shines again, with a sweeping snatch of a bounced throw by Bellhorn, helping Foulke to a onetwothree inning for his tenth straight save. On the postgame show, Eck tries to figure out Lowes problem. Of the fifth, Eck says, Its a mystical inning, and we crack up. Groovy Eck with his Farrah Fawcett wings. But hes right too (right on, Eck!) When you win a game and your ERA goes up, you know you didnt pitch too good. May 27th 9 A.M. Neither Stew nor I made it to the ballyard last night. I had a PEN dinner in Bostons Back Bay and Stewart had his sons saxophone recitalwhich, he assured me, is nonnegotiable. The Red Sox did not miss us. Derek Lowe was once more far from perfect, but the Sox bats stayed hot and in his start against Oakland, Lowe was just good enough to go six and eke out the win. The Red Sox rolled to their fifth straight, their seventh in their last eight games. But I watch SportsDesk this morning musing on my Yankees essaythe one where I talked about how we hate what we fearand looking at my new hat, which was sent to me from yankeeshater.com. Because the Yankees have also been winning, and while weve been doing it at home, theyve been doing it on the road, which is a tougher proposition. They came from behind last night at Camden Yards not just once but twice, finally putting the Orioles away 129. So in spite of this nifty streak of ours, were still only a game and a half in front. Two Sox losses combined with just two Yankee wins, and were back in second place. This is what the Yankees do. They hang around. Those suckers lurk. 1030 P.M. The summers disaster movie, The Day After Tomorrow, opens this weekend, but disaster struck tonight at Fenway Park, as Bostons brave little fivegame winning streak went byebye in a big way. Oakland beat the Red Sox like a drum, pounding out 17 hits on their way to a 152 win. Me, I knew it was going to happen. I went to the game with my nephew, Jon, who goes to school in Boston. He came over to my hotel room before the game and tossed my hat on the bed, which everyoneknows is just about the worst luck in the worldtalk about bad mojo! But I dont blame him; the kid just didnt know. Also, most (or maybe all) major league teams now insist on a fiveman pitching rotation, and our fifth man, Bronson Arroyo, while promising, is still very much a work in progress. That fifth man in the rotation is about streetching the starting pitchingand that, of course, is all about the money. Weve been there before in this book, and will undoubtedly be there again. But I can remember a time, childrenI believe it was 1959when the White Sox went to the World Series with what was essentially a threeman rotation. Of course, those were the days when a good pitcher still got paid in five figures and a man could take his whole family to the ballyard for twenty bucks, parking included (and smoke a White Owl in the grandstand, if he was so inclined). Im not saying those were better baseball daysbut Im not saying they werent, either. In the midst of all this, Kevin Youkilis drew a walk in his last atbat. He still hasnt played in a major league game where hes failed to reach base. A final note before I pack it in for the night I took myself off this afternoon to see Still, We Believe, an entertaining documentary which chronicles the starcrossed Red Sox team of 2003, the one that voyaged so far only to tear out its hull (not to mention the hearts of its fans) on those cruel Yankee reefs in the seventh game of the American League Championship Series. This film is currently playing in theaters all over New England, plus a few New York venues (where it is attended largely by sadists in Yankee caps, one would suppose), and probably nowhere else. Its a charming, funny, sweetly poignant film. Its token efforts to explore the Mind of Managementalways supposing Management has a Mind, a hypothesis with little evidence to support itarent very interesting, but when it focuses on the fortunes of four fans, its a lot more successful. One is a young man who is wheelchairbound due to an accident; two are semidaffy (but very endearing) young women I kept thinking of as Laverne and Shirley; the fourth is Angry Bill. Angry Bill is a piece of work overweight, hypertensive (he suffers persistent nosebleeds during the 03 postseason), full of nervous energy, bursting with cynical pronouncements that barely cover his bruised baseball fans heart. This guy has lived and died with the Sox for so long (mostly the latter), that he sums up an entire New England mindset when hestates, in effect, that the Sox are always gonna lose, he knows theyre gonna pull an el foldo in August just as sure as he knows the suns gonna come up over Boston Haaabaaa in the east, and if they dont pull an el foldo in August theyll pull a tank job in September, just as sure as the suns gonna go down over Attleboro in the west. And yet, with Boston ahead during the early going of that climactic Game 7 in October of 2003, Angry Bill briefly allows himself to become Hopeful Billbecause the Red Sox do this to us, too every year at some point they turn into Lucy holding the football, and against all our best intentions (and our knowing that those who do not learn from history are condemnedfucking CONDEMNED!to repeat it) we turn into Charlie Brown running once more to kick it, only to have it snatched away again at the last moment so we land flat on our backs, screaming AUGGGH! at the top of our lungs. And when, after Grady Little leaves Pedro in long after even the most casual baseball fan knows he is toastyfried, broiled, baked, cooked to a turn, stick a fork in im, hes donewhen the coup de grce is delivered by Aaron Boone long after Pedro has trudged to the shower, Angry Bill stares with a kind of wondering disbelief into the documentarians camera (at us in the audience, seven months later, seven weeks into a new season later, us with our tickets to tonights shellacking by the Oakland As in our pockets) and delivers what is for me the absolute capper, the jilted Red Sox fans Final Word Dont let your kids grow up to be sports fans, Angry Bill advises, and at this point the movie leaves himmercifullyto contemplate the Patriots, who will undoubtedly improve matters for his battered psyche by winning the Super Bowlbut Im sure Angry Bill would admit (if not right out loud then in his heart) that winning the Super Bowl isnt the same as winning the World Series. Not even in the same universe as winning the World Series. Meanwhile, the Yankeesthe Evil Empire, our old nemesishave come from behind to beat Baltimore once again, and our lead in the AL East is down to a mere half game. Im off to bed knowing that the boogeyman has inched a little bit closer to the closet door. May 28th Its the big holiday weekend. Once the kids get home from school, weve got to drive down to the Rhode Island shore and help my inlaws open up the beach house, so after lunch I run around town trying to fit in my last errands. Im at the Stop n Shop when I remember the new Reverse the Curse ice cream, and there it is in the freezer section. The carton is boring and generic. Id hoped for more interesting packaging, maybe a nod to the Monster that I could use for a penny bank. Still, the ice cream should be good. We poke along I95 with all the other Memorial Day traffic. Trudy and her parents have been lifting and cleaning all day, and dont feel like cooking, so we go out for dinner. By the time we make it back, the Sox are down 41 to Seattle in the fifth. Ichiros just driven in a run, and steals third on Pedro, who has that dull, longsuffering look he gets when things arent going right. Theres only one out, and Edgar Martinez is up. Pedro gets him swinging, then gets the next guy to pop up. In our fifth, Millar and Youkilis tag Joel (pronounced JoeEl, as if hes from Krypton) Pineiro for backtoback doubles, making it 42. See, all the Sox needed was us watching. Pokey Ks, but with two gone Pineiro walks Johnny and Mark Bellhorn to load them for Big David. On the first pitch, Ortiz lofts a long fly to right. Ichiro goes back sideways, and keeps going, all the way to the wall, where he leaps. He hangs there, folded over the low wall, only his legs showing. We cant see the ball, but the fans behind the bullpen fence are jumping up and downits gone, a grand slam, and were up 64. In St. Pete, the Yanks have beaten the DRays, so we need to hold on to stay in first. Pedro settles down. In the eighth he gives way to Embree, who throws a scoreless inning. J. J. Putz comes on for the Ms and gives up a smoked single through the middle to Manny (it makes Putz riverdance) and then, after a long atbat, a double to Dauber off the bullpen wall. Bob Melvin decides to walk Tek to set up the double play, which Kapler foils by popping up. Putz goes 20 on Youkilis and has to come in with a strike; Youkilis slaps it down the rightfield line for a double and two more insurance runs, and the PA plays the corny old Hartford Whalers theme, Brass Bonanza. Foulke closes, but its a battle. He throws 30 pitches and leaves runners on second and third for an 84 final. A tougher game than expected from the lastplace Ms, but El Jefe (Big Papi, D.O., David as Goliath) brought us back. May 29th Its Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, but Ive had all of Boston and Fenway Park I can take for a whileseven games in eight days is plenty, especially given the uniformly shitty quality of the weather.And thats not all. Hotel living gets creepy after a while, even when you can afford room service (maybe especially if you can afford room service). Also, my wife headed back to Maine after the PEN dinner on Wednesday, and I miss her. But as I run north under sunshiny, breezy skies, I keep an eye on the dashboard clock, and when 1 P.M. rolls around, I hit the radios SEEK button until I find the voices of Joe Castiglione and Jerry Trupiano, comfort food for the ear. Listening to a baseball game on the radio may be outmoded in this age of computers and satellite television, but it hath its own particular pleasures; with each inning you build your own Fenway of the mind from scrapheap memories and pure imagination. Today the wind is playing tricks, Wakefields knuckleball is staying up in the zone, and the usually lackluster Mariner hitters pounce on it right from the git. In the second inning a Seattle batter hits a towering fly foul of first, but the wind pushes it back into fair territory. Mark Bellhorn, today playing second, tries to stay with it, cant. The ball bonks him on the wrist and falls for a double. I see all this quite vividly (along with Manny Ramirezs homer to left, hit so hard it leaves a vapor trail, Troop assures me) as I drive north between Yarmouth and Freeport with that same wind pushing my own car. Since I cant read a page of my current book between innings (the galley of Chuck Hogans Prince of Thieves is now tucked away in my green 1999 AllStar Game souvenir carrybag), I punch the CD button after each third out and listen to two minutestimed on my wristwatchof Larry McMurtrys The Wandering Hill, volume two of the Berrybender Narratives. I have found that two minutes gets me back to the game just in time for the first pitch of the next inning. In this fashion, the 240mile trip to Bangor passes agreeably enough. One wishes the Red Sox could have won, but its hard to root against Freddy Garcia, a great pitcher who is this year laboring for a bad ball clubin the Mariners. And the worst the Sox can do on the current home stand is 64; one may reasonably hope for 82. One may even hope the hapless Devil Rays will beat the Yankees tonight, and we will retain our halfgame hold on the top spot a little longer. Waiting at home in the mail is the Nomar ball from the Nomar Bowl, a nice souvenir of his lost season. My email inbox is sluggish, filled with pictures of Lisa at the Town Lanes with Nomar, with Dauber, with David Ortiz, with Mike Timlin, with Alan Embree, even with Danny Ainge. Everyones smiling, though I dont see any players actually bowling. The Yanks beat the Rays 53, so theyre in first place. I smother my sorrows in a bowl of Reverse the Curse and read the sports page. My Pirates, amazingly, are at .500, thanks to a pair of walkoff homers to take a twin bill from the Cubs. And it says Nomars scheduled to start his rehab stint at Pawtucket tomorrowthe best news I could hope for. 950 P.M. I take my wife to the crazyweather movie, which we both enjoy. I walk the dog as soon as we get back, then hit the TV remote and click on Headline News. Weekends, the ticker at the bottom of the screen runs continuous sports scores, and ohhhh, shit, the Yankees won again. Theyve regained the top spot in the AL East, one theyve held for almost five consecutive seasons, leaving me to wonder how in the name of Cobb and Williams you pound a stake through this teams heart and make them lie still. Or if its even possible. May 30th Weve got Monster seats and get going early. Im taking the kids while Trudys bringing her parents from the shore. The weathers clear, traffics light on I84, and a cop stops me for speeding. So the morning, which started so promising, turns bitter even before we hit the Mass Pike. I worry that the feeling will linger and ruin the whole day, but there are enough miles to put it behind us. We hit Lansdowne Street, where the sausage vendors are open early for the family crowd. A woman Trudys mothers age has a sweatshirt that says FOULKE THE YANKEES. Im sure that Stew was at the ballpark today for what turned out to be an extraordinary game, and probably in the prime real estate of my secondrow seats next to the Red Sox dugout, but I enjoyed it fine at home in my living room with my wife close by, propped up on the couch with the computer on her lap and the dog by her side. Ive come down with a fairly heavy cold as a result of my week of chilly carousal at Fenway, and there is something especially satisfyingakin to the pleasures of selfpity, I supposeabout watching a baseball game with the box of Kleenex near one hand and the box of Sucrets near the other, coughing and sneezing your way through the innings as the shadows on both the infield and your living room carpet gradually creep longer. This game had a little bit of everything. Curt Schilling flirted with perfection into the sixth; Keith Foulke blew his first save of the season (his first blown save in his last twentyfour attempts, it turns out) when Raul Ibanez hit a dramatic threerun home run, putting the Mariners up 75 in the eighth inning; the Red Sox came right back to tie it in the bottom of the eighth. Then, in the bottom of the twelfth, Sox sub David McCarty crushed a 30 fastball to what is the deepest part of the park to give the Red Sox the win. And at the risk of sounding like Angry Bill in Still, We Believe, I called the shot. Yeah! Me! Id claim my wife as a witness to this feat of prediction, except she was pretty heavy into the computer solitaire by then and I doubt like hell that she was listening. The Mariners fourth pitcher of the afternoon, a young man with the unfortunate name of J. J. Putz, entered the game with a reputation for wildness, but was into his third inning of exceptional relief work (he struck out both David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez in the eleventh) when the roof fell in. After getting the first out in the twelfth, he hit Jason Varitek with a soft breaking pitch.Enter McCarty, inserted into the lineup mostly as a defensive replacement. The count ran to 30. Most batters are taking all the way on such a count, but Terry Francona gives most of his guys the automatic green light on 30. (I like this strategy as much as I loathe his refusal to bunt runners along in key situations.) I saidmostly to the dog, since my wife was paying elzilcho attention, Watch this. Putz is gonna throw it down the middle and McCarty is gonna send everyone home in time for supper. Which is just what happened, and thank God the camera did not linger long on the headhanging misery of young Mr. J. J. Putz as McCarty went into his home run trot. These are the kind of games you either win or feel really bad about losing, especially at home. I feel badly for Putz (pronounced Pootz, thank you very much), but the bottom line? We won it. And the bonus? The Yankees lost to Tampa Bay (who just barely held on), which means were back in first place. There are three major milestones in a baseball season Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day. The first of these milestones in the 2004 season comes tomorrow, when we play a makeup game with Baltimore, and for a team with so many quality players on the disabled list, were doing pretty damned well going into the first turn. Especially when we can look forward to two of thoseNomar Garciaparra and Trot Nixoncoming back between Memorial Day and the Fourth. A third, Bill Mueller, may return to the club between the Fourth and Labor Day. That brings us back to Kevin Youkilis, Muellers replacement, who has now begun to attract so much notice that Terry Francona has had to publicly state that no, Youkilis will not be keeping the job at third once Muellers fit and ready to play no matter how well the GGOWdoes between now and the happy day of Muellers return. A piece in the Portland Sunday Telegram today by Kevin Thomas (who knows Youkilis from Youkiliss days with the Portland Sea Dogs, the BoSox doubleA affiliate) points out that Youkiliss locker is on the far wall of the clubhouse, the traditional place for players who are just up for a cup of coffee in the bigsas is undoubtedly the case with Andy Dominique, who delivered todays gametying hit in the bottom of the eighth. Thomas also points to previous Red Sox minor leaguers such as Wilton Veras, who came up to play third with high hopes, only to fade into obscurity. Obscurity would not seem to be in young Mr. Youkiliss future, however. I know Im going to be playing, he told Kevin Thomas in todays interview, speaking with quiet certainty, and with every passing game his onbase percentage seems simultaneously harder to believe for a rookie and less like a fluke. Moved up to the twohole today, all Youkilis did was gothree for five, with three runs scored. His batting average is .317, and his OBP is hovering right around .425. The fans know that Bill Mueller may have to battle for his old spot back, no matter what Terry Francona has to say on the subject. It sounds like theyre booing the kid when he walks to the plate, but the grin on Youkiliss face says he knows better; that sound sweeping around the ballpark like a soft wind is the first syllable of his last name YoukYoukYouk Two weeks ago he was playing tripleA ball in Pawtucket; tomorrow, on Memorial Day, hes going to be playing the Orioles before a packed house, for the firstplace Boston Red Sox. And I dont want to jinx the kid, but do you know what I think, after having watched him in almost all of those games? I think a star is born. After the McCarty walkoff job, Netman learns from fan services that the Sox have decided to ban his net from Fenway. Like the speeding ticket, it could taint the day, but I wont let it. Ive had a great run with the net, and it was a wild game todayhalf a nohitter topped by a lateinning comeback and then the tension of extra innings released with McCartys gamewinner. The Yanks lost at the Trop, so were in first place. Happy birthday, Manny. Hell, Im better with the glove anyway. May 31st In response to flooding on the border of Haiti and the Dominican, David Ortiz, Manny and Pedro are joining with the Sox to collect donations for aid. I send a check, and while this book wont be out for another six months, Im sure the victims down there will still need the support then. The address is Dominican Relief Effort, Red Sox Foundation, Fenway Park, Boston, MA 02215. Of Bostons four established starting pitchersthe other three being Pedro Martinez, Tim Wakefield and Curt SchillingDerek Lowe has been the most obviously troubled. In his last three winning starts, all at home and all shaky, his teammates have been wearing their red jerseys instead of the usual white ones, so its no surprise that those were the onesthey were wearing when they took the field for their makeup game against the Orioles. It was Lowes best start in weeks, but this time the red tops didnt help. The real problem today wasnt Lowe so much as it was the middle relief. Like most teams in the wretchedly overstocked major leagues, Boston cant boast a lot in that regard. Yes, theres Timlin and Embree, but Francona doesnt like to throw them in when the Sox are down by more than a couple, and both of them have worked a lot lately and needed the day off. So it was the PawSox Pitching Corps, mostly, and no way were they equal to the task. The Sox were down 90 before you could say Lansdowne Street. Weve played from behind a lot on this home stand, and have come from behind a lotbut not from this far behind. Not against Oakland, not against Seattle, and not against Baltimore today. So now were off to the West Coast, Nomars almost ready to come back (always supposing his rehabbed ankle stays rehabbed after some actual game action with the tripleA club, where he went 0 for 3 last night), and the first third of the season is over. The biggest surpriseat least to mehas been how quickly, after the initial scramble, the teams aligned themselves just as they have in previous years. Pick of the first fifty the Sox taking six of seven from the Bronx Bombers. And in spite of that, weve reached the Memorial Day marker fiftyone games into the season in a dead tie for first with them. Who woulda thunk it? Steve calls, and we dissect the game. They came out flat, we agree. But, overall so far, Steve says, were playing way over our heads. Look at these guys whove been getting it done for us Youkilis, McCarty, Bellhorn. Nomars not too far away, and Trot. Sure, were headed out West and the Yankees are coming home, but historically we do okay out there. Hes more optimistic than I ama raritybut hes right too. And yet, after I hang up, Im still worried about Lowe, whose ERA must be pushing 7.00, and who hasnt made it out of the sixth inning in over a month. The Boston Globes Dan Shaughnessy. Where it festers. In the first two meetings of this year, we beat them by scores of 62 and 52, and the Yankees big offseason acquisition, Alex Rodriguez (who Red Sox fans see, rightly or wrongly, as a player stolen out from under our very noses by George Ill Spend Anything Steinbrenner) went 0 for 8. Well enough. In the third game, however, The Team That Will Not Die is leading the Sox 73 in the fourth inning. Shaughnessy again only three collapses approximate this one the 1915 Giants led the Boston Braves by fifteen games on the Fourth of July and finished ten and a half behind; the 1951 Brooklyn Dodgers led the Giants by thirteen games August 11, got tied on the final day of the season, then lost the playoff; and the 1964 Phillies led the Cardinals by six and a half games with twelve to play, then lost ten straight. The Giants, Dodgers and Phillies eventually won championships. The Red Sox Well, do we need to finish that? Fuck, no, wes fans. Who went to the unusual length of issuing an apology after the gamefat lot of good it did us. Who will not be eligible for the win today, Im happy to report. When Zim was the Red Sox field general, Sox pitcher Bill Lee once called him the designated gerbil. Harvey Frommer and Frederic J. Frommer, Red Sox vs. Yankees The Great Rivalry (Sports PublishingBoston Baseball, 2004). This is a Bostonbiased book, but most of the color photographs show celebrating Yankees and downcast Red Soxwonder why. Ibid. The Yankees won todays game, 73. The final game of the series will be played tomorrow at 11 A.M. (its the annual Patriots Day game in Boston), and with todays win and tomorrows matchupBostons Bronson Arroyo versus the Yankees Kevin Brownthe Yankees have an excellent chance of earning a splitcurse them. The loser, Im very sorry to say, happened to be exRed Sox closer Tom Gordon, the star of a book I wroteand in The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Flash will be the Red Sox closer forever. Sorry, Mr. Steinbrenner, but theres not a thing you can do about that one. Heres what I understand about hockey Bulky men wearing helmets and carrying sticks in their gauntleted hands skate around for a while on my TV; then some guy comes on and sells trucks.


Sometimes chicks come on and sell beer. The record he shares, perhaps not so coincidentally, with fellow former Portland Sea Dog Kevin Millar. SO There was a time when you could see The Wave going around at almost all baseball parks and football stadiums; to my knowledge, only at Fenway does it survive. Survive? Nay, sir or madam, it thrives! Tonight it went around and around in the eighth, when the Sox sent eleven men to the dish and scored six times. I myself refuse to wave unless I am also allowed to scream Sieg heil! at the top of my lungs. 48 degrees, according to Channel 4 weather when I got back to my hotel. The start of last nights game was held up for an hour and a half in anticipation of rain showers that never came. In truth, Tekfor some reason only known to himself, Stewart ONan always calls him Tek Moneydid not try very hard to avoid this pitch; it was a classic case of taking one for the team if I ever saw one. And, as a man who got to watch Don Baylor play, Ive seen my share. Greek God of Walksbut you knew that. June The June Swoon June 1st Last night in Louisville Nomar went 2 for 3 with a walk, a reason for some optimism. I know hes not going to solve all our problems when he comes back, but having a live righty bat wont hurt. Were playing late in Anaheim, a 1005 start. I catch some of the pregameJerry the former Angel back where he startedbut by game time Im so busy finishing up everything I didnt get done during the day that I miss the first couple of innings. When I tune in, its bedtime, 1130, and its only the top of the third. Were up 21 and Colon has runners on first and second with one out. Millar singles to left, and Sveum sends Manny, but Manny decides not to go. Good thing, because the throw from Jose Guillen is a strike. Youkilis steps up, and I think were going to break the game open, but the firstbase ump calls an obvious check swing a strike and then the homeplate ump rings him up on a pitch well outside. Youkilis swears, and Jerry says the rookies got to be careful not to get tossed. Colon goes 31 on Pokey before unleashing his good stuff, and we come away with nothing. Through three weve left seven men on base. Id love to stay up and see how it turns out, but its almost midnight. Its a defeat, in a way, voluntarily leaving an interesting game in progress. Ill feel disconnected and behind until I read the score in the paper tomorrow morning. For now, I just have to trust Arroyo will hold them and that our big guys will get to Colon. June 2nd We lost, 76, though only a ninthinning tworun shot by Dauber off Troy Percival made it look that close. We had a threerun lead at one point, but Arroyo didnt make it out of the sixth. With the score tied, Vladimir Guerrero ripped a tworun double, and we never really threatened after that. And the Yanks beat the Orioles again, running their record against Baltimore to 1,0000 over the last couple years, so were a full game back. And while the paper agrees that Nomar could join the big club as early as Tuesday against the Padres, it also says that Trots had yet another setback with his quad and will sit out several extended springtraining games. Fifty games into the season, its hard to imagine there are that many guys still stuck down in Fort Myers. The facility must be a ghost town, lots of empty parking spots. Even while hes sitting out, Trot will take batting practice; one of the pitchers hell be facingRamiro Mendoza. SK Were on the West Coast, graveyard of many great Red Sox teams, and we blew a lead last night while the Yankees were holding on to one. Also holding sole possession of first place. I think that in the steamy depths of July, we may look back on May, when the Yankees kept pace, and shake our heads, and say, Sheesh, wont anything stop them? SO Hey, dont ascribe them any superpowers. Thats what theyre going to be saying about us. Already around the league people are wondering how were doing it with all these supersubs. Since I missed last nights game, I make a point of staying up for tonights, even scoring it on a Remy Report sheet. Johnnys not playing; Id heard his knee is still bothering him from the ball he fouled off itand that had to have been a month ago. On the mound for the Angels is lefty Jarrod Washburn, who was Cy Young material two years back but hasnt thrown well since. Weve got Pedro going. Hes said he hasnt been able to throw his curve much because of the cold weather (the grip, I suppose), so Im discouraged in the first when Vladimir Guerrero yokes a hanging curve over the wall in left for a tworun shot. Don Orsillo takes this opportunity to inform us that the Yanks have come from being down 50 to beat the Os 65. I dont know who I hate more, the Yankees for being the Yankees or the Os for rolling over. Manny gets one back in the second with a solo blast to dead center, and in the third an Ortiz sac fly brings in Bellhorn to tie the game (to a healthy Lets go, Red Sox chant). But in the bottom of the inning Guerrero puts the Angels in the lead again with a tworun double. Neither starter has anything. The Sox chase Washburn in the fourth with six straight hits, scoring five. Wed have more, but Ramon Ortiz comes on and gets Millar to bounce into an easy 643 DP. Still, weve come back to take a 74 lead on the road, and Im happy I stayed up to watch this one. In the bottom of the inning, Guerrero hits a sac fly to score Bengie Molina, making it 75. Vladi has all five of their RBIs. Its midnight, past the Soxs bedtime, and their bats go the way of Cinderellas coach. The rest of the game, they manage just one twoout single. Pedros done after David Ecksteins fourth single of the night (the former Sox prospect will go 5 for 5, the Angels first three batters a preposterous 12 for 13) and a fourpitch walk to Chone (pronounced Shawn) Figgins. Im glassy, a little pissed off but dull and punchy, fatalistic. Timlin comes on to face Guerrero and ends up facing the leftfield fence, watching a threerun shot knock around the rocks out there. Its 87 and Guerrero has all eight RBIs. He pops out of the dugout for a wellearned tip of the cap. The Angels add two more in the seventh, when Foulke, coming in early in hopes of keeping it close, lets two of Timlins runners score. Guerreros in the middle of the rally again, knocking in his ninth run of the night. Sitting there by myself in the dark house, facing the screen, I have nothing to distract myself from the terrible baseball Im seeing. Theres no one to commiserate with or to help absorb the loss; its all mine. Weve hit the ball well enough, and while our outfield isnt close to their cannonarmed trio of Jose Guillen, Raul Mondesi and Vladi Guerrero, weve fielded decently, but our pitching has been horrendous. All three pitchers we ran out there tonight got their butts whipped. By the ninth inning, as Francisco KRod Rodriguez strikes out David Ortiz and then Manny, Im in a sour mood, blaming the Sox for my own impatience and irritability. The finals 107, the third time in a week weve given up double digitsand we came in with the leagues best ERA. Its one oclock, only a threehour game, though with all the scoring it feels like four, four and a half. I feel crappy and blue. I feel like Ive earned the day off tomorrow. June 3rd Bostons on the West Coast, and I hate it. We always seem to do poorly out there during the regular season, and the pennant hopes of more than oneRed Sox team have been buried in places like Anaheim and Oakland. This year is looking like no exception. The Angels have now beaten us twice in a row, and in both cases weve come from behind only to blow the lead again. Youch. And when they go out there, I always feel as if the Olde Town Team (Boston Globe writer Dan Shaughnessys term) has voyaged over the curve of the earth and clean out of sight. News travels faster than it used to, grantedI can get game highlights on NESN instead of just a bareass score on the morning radiobut details are still pretty thin unless you actually stay up and watch the game, as ONan was threatening to do last night (and gosh, he must have gone to bed grumpy in the wee hours, if he did). What I want most of all is a box score, dammit, and there wont be one until tomorrow, by which time last nights game will already be old and cold. Or maybe Bostons West Coast swing and current threegame losing streak are only cover stories for a deeper malaise. Later, in August and September, Ill dumbly drop my neck and accept the yoke of fancitizenship in Red Sox Nation, but in June and July I resist a rather distasteful truth as summer deepens, I find that instead of me gripping the baseballapologies to Jim Boutonthe baseball is gripping me. This morning is a perfect case in point. The alarm is set for 730 A.M., because I dont really have to get up until quarter of eight. But I find myself wideawake at 615, staring at the ceiling and wondering if the Red Sox managed to come back from a 42 deficit, which was where I left them. Im also wondering if the Yankees, who were playing Baltimore at home, managed to win yet again. Im thinking that the Orioles, with good hitting and fair pitching, must have managed to beat the Yanks at least once. Im also wondering what Nomar Garciaparras status is, and if theres any update on Trot Nixon. By 630 I can stand it no longer. I get out of bed (still cursing my own obsessive nature) and switch off the alarm. It will not be needed today. I go to the TV and have only to punch the ON button; its already on NESN, NESN is right where I left off seven hours ago, NESN is where the electronic Cyclops in my study is gonna be for most of the summer. Just like last summer. (And the summer before.) A moment later Im sitting there on the rug in my ratty Red Sox workout shorts, hair standing up all over my head (Your hair is excited, my wife says when its this way in themorning), looking at Jayme Parker, who is for some incomprehensible reason doing the sports today on location from Foxwoods Casino, and although shes as goodlooking as ever (in her pink suit Jayme looks as cool as peppermint ice cream), all the news is buttugly the Sox blew their lead and lost, the Yankees came from behind and won. The Evil Empire now leads the AL East by two games. Even Roger Clemens, the pitcher thenSox general manager Dan Duquette proclaimed all but washedup and then traded away, won last night; hes 80 for the Astros. The Red Sox continue their West Coast swing tomorrow night. Its way too early to liken this particular tour of duty to the Bataan Death March (although that simile has done more than cross my mind in other years, on other nightmare visits to Anaheim, Oakland, Seattle, and yes, even Kansas City, where we go next), but not too early to restate my original scripture on the whole, Id rather be at Foxwoods. Franconas talking like Nomar will be back on Tuesday and that hell be used as a DH for a while, letting Pokey, Marky Mark and Youk stay on the field and in the lineup. Ultimately though, hell have to sit someone. Pokeys the glove and the glue, Bellhorns the tablesetter, but its hard to pull Youk after how well hes played. For his .318 average and .446 OBP, hes been named Mays AL Rookie of the Month. A stray stat in the paper since 2001, the Yankees are 4417 against the Os. Make that 4517, as the Os succumb once again. Theyre under .500 now. The problem, I think, is that the Os are basically a cheaper version of the Yankssoso pitching backed by lots of freeagent bats. Like the Yanks, theyre designed to overwhelm mediocre clubs, a wise enough strategy in this postexpansion era (the same strategy the Yanks used in the 50s, when their ace was the lackluster Whitey Ford and they feasted on the second division), but no guarantee of success in the playoffs. As the DBacks, Angels and Marlins (and 1960 Pirates) have proven, to beat a club that grossly outspends you, you have to bring a whole different style of ball. Theres no way the Os can match Georges payroll, so theyll always be a few bats short. Were two and a half back for the first time all year. Its not a hole, but it will take a streak to get us back even. At the high school senior awards assembly, Caitlins friend Ryan, who weve been giving grief about his Yankees since April, says, Have you seen the standings? Hey, I say, you guysll do fine if you only have to play the Os. June 5th Its time to admit it this is the dreaded Red Sox losing streak. Worse, its the dreaded Red Sox losing streak combined with the even more dreaded (and apparently endless) Yankee winning streak. No Jayme Parker on NESNs SportsDesk this morning to ease the pain; its Saturday and Mike Perlow is subbing. And although I tune in at 712 A.M., near the end of the shows fifteenminute loop and during a story about the Olympic Torch reaching Australia (huh?), I already know the worst. Perlow is one of those latetwenty or earlythirtysomethings who look about fourteen, and this morning there is no sparkle in the Perlow eye, no lift in the Perlow shoulders. We lost. Im sure we lost. But of course I hang in there to be sure and of course we did. The unsparkling eye does not lie. Our pitching staff is having the week from hell. Derek Lowe lost to Baltimore in the Memorial Day makeup game; Bronson Arroyo and Pedro Martinez lost to the Angels; last night Tim Wakefield lost to the Kansas City Royals and Jimmy Gobble (a name at least as unfortunate as that of J. J. Putz). The Yankees again won by a single runI dont know how many onerun victories theyve rung up so far this year, but it seems like a lotand we once more got halfbucked to death as KC put up a run here and a run there until the game was out of reach. Its the kind of slow bleed that drives managers crazy. Mark Bellhorn did not help the cause any by running into an out between third and home, killing a potential rally. I think that for serious Sox fans, this sort of losing streak is exacerbated by the fact that the Yankees arent losing RIGHT NOW combined with the sinking feeling that they will NEVER LOSE AGAIN. For serious controlfreak fans (sighthat would be me), its exacerbated even more by the fact that I CANT DO A FUCKING THING ABOUT IT; all I can do is stand by and watch. Oh, and two other things. One is to remind myself that we owned first place less than a week ago, and are now three games out of it. The other is to try and find that Stephen Crane poem where theguy says he likes what hes eating because its bitter, and because it is his heart. Stop that and stay upbeat, I tell myself. This is not impossible or even that hard to do on a beautiful June morning with the grandchildren on the way. Its a long season, after all, and September is the only month where a losing streak can absolutely kill you, and only then if its combined with the wrong teams winning streak. Besides, I have to think of Stewart, who stayed up until maybe two in the morning to watch one of those awful games with the Angels where we blew the lead in the late innings. Man, I havent even dared email him about that. As for tonight, I have my choice the new Harry Potter movie, or the Red Sox. If my older son actually does make the scene with the grandkids, I think Ill let him decide. Who says Im a control freak? Later The headline of this mornings Sox story in the Lewiston Daily Sun reads GOBBLE FEASTS ON SOX. Hours later, while Peggy Noonan is getting all misty about the passing of Ronald Reagan on CNBC, I think, GOBBLE FEASTS ON SOX, and I crack up all over again. When youre losing, you take your chuckles wherever you can get them. As Im cutting the grass, my nextdoor neighbor Dave waves me over to the fence. Daves a big Bruins and Sox fan, and we have the occasional bitchfest about the sorry state of the two teams. Dave says the thinness of the roster is starting to showthat weve gone too long playing secondstringers. I say weve got to find a way to protect Manny; Tek and Dauber have struggled, and Millars been nonexistent. And wheres our friend Mr. Kim? Dave asks. I havent seen hide nor hair of him. I wonder where Mystery Malaska is, whether hes in Pawtucket or on the DL. In the end, I tell Dave that its early and that well turn it around. But really, do we need to turn it around? Are we really stumbling that badly? Even with this second streak, were still up there with the leagues elite. Its a luxury, worrying about being three and a half back. A lot of clubs are already well out of it. June 6th 730 A.M. The Red Sox won last night. Schilling (now 73, God bless him) stopped the bleeding at four games and the Yankees lost, so for the timebeing, alls well as it can be.Its funny, though, how being a fan takes over your life. Ronald Reagan died at 1 P.M. yesterday. At the time he left for that great Oval Office in the sky, he was ninetythreethe oldest living expresident. And, I realize, he would have been seven the last time the Red Sox won the World Series. Hmmm, I think. Thats old enough to have a rooting interest. Wonder if The Gipper was a fan? You know what Ole Case would have said, dontcha? Right. You could look it up. The latest Pedro worry is that he showed up at the clubhouse yesterday wearing a wrist brace on his pitching arm. When asked why he had it on, he told reporters, Because it looks good. Lately he hasnt been able to throw his curveball, so this just sets off a wave of speculation that somethings physically wrong. Well find out Tuesday, when hes scheduled to take on David Wells and the Padres. Nomar should be back for that game. Last night in Toledo he went 2 for 4 with a homer and a tworun double. I expect to be on Lansdowne Street Tuesday afternoon, trying to catch one of his batting practice home runs. 530 P.M. This was a good afternoon for we the faithful. First, the team Nomar Garciaparra is likely to rejoin on June 8th will be ten games over .500, thanks to todays win. Second, Lowe went five respectable innings and then lucked into the win when his teammates scored five runs in the top of the sixth (the only inning in which they managed to score any runs). Third, and maybe most important, I finally saw signs that, yes, Derek Lowe cares. After giving up a tworun gopher ball to KC Royals batter Mike Sweeney in the first (A ball that just screamed hit me,  commentator Sam Horn said in the postgame show), the camera caught a look of weary disgust on Lowes face that summed up all of his feelings about what must seem a nightmare season to a bigmoney player in his walk year. What have I got to do to get out of this? that look said. Or maybe What have I got to do to make it stop? Work is the answer to both questions, of course, and following the Sweeney home run, Derek Lowe worked quite hard. Hes clearly got along way to goand at 55, hes not looking like the answer to any teams 2005 prayersbut at least he now looks like hes awake, and thats an improvement. Then theres Mike Timlin, whos oldtime tough and has the looks to match, with his red socks pulled up almost to his knees and his nononsense low legkick and stride delivery. Timlin is, in my humble opinion, worth a Lowe and a half. He came on in relief of Derek, pitching a perfect three innings before turning the ball over to Keith Foulke. And if Mr. Mike wants to give all the credit to the Lord, more power to him. Oh, and by the waydid I happen to mention that Kevin Youkilis was last weeks Pepsi Rookie of the Week? Yep. Yesterday he hit his second home run. Today the Greek God of Walks justwalked. Hey, its good enough for me. June 9th I had a big day yesterday. The sixth of my Dark Tower novels, Song of Susannah, was officially published, and I was in New York to do promotion (mostly those morningradio drivetime showsnot glamorous, and grueling as hell when you pile them up, but they seem to work). The original idea was to fly in from Maine on the evening of the 7th, get a nights sleep, get up early, do my thing, and fly back late the next afternoon. Instead, I rearranged things on the spur of the moment so I could go to Boston instead. The attraction wasnt so much the opening night of interleague playthis year the San Diego Padres are in Fenway for the first timeor Pedro Martinez, who has been less than stellar this year, as it was the bruited return of Nomar Garciaparra. Funny thing about that bruiting. Not only was Nomar not in the Red Sox lineup, he wasnt even in Boston. He was in Rhode Island, where he played six innings for the PawSox and went 0 for 3. And no one seemed sure just how everyone got so sure he was going to make his major league debut last night in the first place. As I settled into my seat on the thirdbase linecall last nights locale halfway between Kevin Youkilis and Manny RamirezI couldnt even remember where I had gotten the idea. I even played with the notion of skipping the game altogether. Im really, really glad I didnt. Last nights tilt would certainly have to go on my list of Steves Top Ten Games at Fenway Ever. The thing is, you never know when youre going to be reminded whyyou love this game, why it turns all your dials so vigorously to the right. Ive been at Fenway for three 10 shutouts, and the Red Sox have won all three. Wes Gardner, an otherwise forgettable Sox righty, pitched the first under a gorgeous full summer moon one night in the eighties; Roger Clemens pitched the second on a sweltering weekend afternoon in the early nineties; Pedro Martinez and Keith Foulke (who worked a onetwothree ninth) combined on the third last night. The Pods, as they are called (as in Podpeople, from The Invasion of the Body Snatchers? one wonders), may be strangers to Fenway, but their starter, David Wells, knows it welland we, the Fenway Faithful, know him. Never inarticulate, Boomer has often expressed his distaste for pitching in the Beantown venue. And with good reason. Until last night, fresh off the DL, Id never seen him pitch well there. He made up for that in his first start as a Pod Person, giving up just four hits, all singles, and working ahead of virtually every batter. This years Red Sox hitters are a patient bunch, and they usually wear pitchers out. Not Wells, last night; most of our guys just ended up getting in the hole 02 or 12, and slapping harmless grounders in consequence. If Wells hadnt been lifted so as not to overuse him in his return, the game might still be going on. I think he was better than Pedro over the first five, and given Pedros postgame comments (I want to build on this), Pedro may have thought so too.Martinez certainly got great defensive backing from his teammates, who have at times this season been decidedlyshall we say iffy?in the field. Johnny Damon made a leaping catch in center, and Mark Bellhorn made a diving, dirteating stop between first and second. The stop was good, but what reminded me againforciblyof what makes these guys pros was how quickly he was back on his feet again. Quick as a cat aint in it, dear; if you blinked you missed it is more like it. But the defensive play of the night once again belonged to Pokey Reese,who has flashed divine leather all season long. I wont bother describing it, other than saying he went to his left at a perfectly absurd speed, and maybemaybegot a helpful lastsecond bounce. I will tell you that I believe no other infielder except Ozzie Smith could have made the play, and relate two overheard comments from behind me, Charlestown accents and all Do you think Nomah could play right field? was the first. Nomah who? was the second. And today I complete the experience by driving out of Boston on the first bona fide day of summer, temperatures in the midnineties, me in a Hertz RentACar I picked up at Logan Airport, driving up Route 1 as I have after so many games at Fenway Park, since my first one in 1959. Theres something just totally ballstothewall about driving north past Kappys Liquors unhungover at 945 in the morning under a gunmetal sky; youve got that almost flawless twohit, 10 win under your belt, and there are almost four more months of baseball to look forward to. Ive got a cold Pepsi between my legs, the radios turned up all the way, theres a U2 rockblock going on, and Angel of Harlem is pouring out of the speakers of my little Mercury SomethingorOther. Call me a dope if you want, but I think this is as good as it gets with your clothes on. June 10th Last night was 5 Night at Fenway Park; the Return of Nomar. The crowd gave him a vast roar of a standing O, and Nomar, obviously moved, saluted them right back. He took the first baseball to come his way flawlessly, starting a 643 double play. In his first atbat, he singled smartly into left field, to the crowds vast delight. The only problem was the Red Sox lost and the Yankees won, coming back from an early 40 deficit in their game with the Colorado Rockies. The Sox are now down three and a half games. I find this out this morning, having given up on the Sox at 11 P.M., when a rain delay (it eventually clocked in at two hours and fifty minutes) progressed from the merely interminable to the outright absurd. The loss wasnt entirely unexpected, as the Red Sox were down a bunch when the rains came, but the fact that the Yankees won yet again came as a rather nasty shock. They are starting to look more and more like those monolithic Yankee teams from the midtolate fifties that inspired the late DouglasWallop (a Washington Senators fan) to write The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant, which became the musical Damn Yankees. A final note. In a move that may make sense to manager Terry Francona but seems incomprehensible to lowly fans like me, the Red Sox have sent Brian Daubach down to Pawtucket. Andy Dominique started for the Sox last night at first base. After blanking the Padres for four innings, a provisionally rejuvenated Bronson Arroyo found himself with two men on and two out. Brian Giles hit a grounder deep in the hole, which Garciaparra fielded, going to his right. He then made one of those patented acrossthebody throws that have nailed so many surprised runners at first. Not last night. The throw was accurate enough, but a little short. The ball bounced first off the dirt, then off the heel of Dominiques glove. My opinion? Maybe Ortiz doesnt make that play, but David McCarty almost certainly doesand so does The Dauber. My question? Whats the guy with Show experience doing in the minors when were in a pennant race? With all the network Thursdaynight shows over, its easy to claim the good TV. Ive got revisions to do, and settle in. The Yanks have already won, completing their sweep of the Rockies this afternoon, so once again we need to keep pace. Schillings pitching, and Im shocked when leadoff batter Sean Burroughs doubles and scores in the first. Ismael Valdez (a seaworthy name if I ever heard one) throws blanks till he meets Pokey Reese in the bottom of the third. In BP, Pokey has to work to reach the wall, but Valdez finds the perfect spot up and in and Pokey loops it into the first row of M7. The next inning, Valdez hangs a curve to Manny with David on first, and Manny goes over everything and into the parking lot. Meanwhile, Schillings throwing 94 with authority, striking out a bunch. In the fifth, Youks RBI double off the scoreboard chases Valdez. CUT TO crazy handheld zooms of heavyset goateed man in familiar Western shirt gorging on bucket of KFC to raucous music. Its Millar, in the same shirt he wore to the movie premiere. EXTREME CLOSEUP of bucket with SFX of chicken pieces disappearing one by one. Going, going Millar says. When we return, reliever Brandon Puffer intentionally walks Manny to load the bases. Nomar steps in to a standing O and knocks one off the Monster for a 61 lead. Millar follows with a double to the leftcenter gapChickenman! me and Steph yell. Its 81, and the rest of the ways uneventful, save a woman being ejected below Don and Jerry. While the cameras not allowed to watch her, the crowd is. She must flash them, because theres a roar, and for the next three minutes Don and Jerry cant stop laughing. I wonder how that looked on highdefinition, Jerry says. In the ninth, a momentary scare when Nomar bangs his bad foot off second base as he comes across to make a play, but he seems fine. McCarty lets us forget it by making a brilliant diving stop on a hopper down the line, reaching high to snag a bounce that should get over him. Lenny DiNardos frozen on the mound, so the runners safe, but its the kind of play (after Andy Dominique last night) that makes me want to see McCarty play more. June 11th In his first two games back, Nomah is batting in the fivehole. In last nights game, the Padres elected to intentionally walk Manny Ramirez with one out in order to face Garciaparra with the bases loaded and the forceatanybase situation in effect. 5 rewarded this strategy (which, the Padres manager would probably argue this morning, made sense at the time, with Garciaparra having been on the DL for the entire first third of the season) with a double rocketed off the leftfield wall. That baseballbattered Monster giveth and taketh away, as Fenway fans well know. Last night it tooketh from Nomar Garciaparra in parks with lower walls, that ball surely would have carried out for a grand slam. Oh well, we beat the Pods, 93. The Yankees won again, of course. They have now won thirteen straight in interleague play. Damn Yankees is damn right. June 12th Baseballs most delicious paradox although the game never changes, youve never seen everything. Last nights tilt between the Red Sox and the Dodgers is a perfect case in point. With two out in the top of the ninth, it looked as though the Sox were going to win their second 10 shutout in the same week. Derek Lowe was superb. Even better, he was lucky. He gave way to Timlin in the eighth, and Timlin gave way to Foulke in the ninth, all just the way its spozed to be. Foulke got the first two batters hefaced, and then Cora snuck a groundball single past Mark Bellhorn. Still no problem, or so youd think. Thats when Olmedo Saenz came up and lifted a lazy fly ball toward Manny Ramirez in left field. Saenz flipped his bat in disgust. Cora, meanwhile, was motoring for all he was worth, because thats what they teach youif the balls in play, anything can happen. This time it did. Manny Ramirez hesitated, glanced toward the infield, saw no help there, and began to run rapidly in no particular direction. He circled, backpedaled, reachedand the ball returned gently to earth more or less behind him. Cora scored, tying the score and costing Derek Lowe the victory in the best game hes pitched this year. David Big Papi Ortiz eventually sent the crowd home happy in the bottom of the ninth, but what about that horrible error by Manny? How could he flub such a routine fly? Here is the Red Sox center fielder, with the ominous explanation I was the one person closest to the action, Johnny Damon said after the game, and I saw all these weird birds flying around. I think they definitely distracted Mannys attention when he needed it most. That really wasnt an error at all. It was a freak of nature. As one of the postgame announcers pointed out, this may have been the first use of the Alfred Hitchcock Defense in a baseball game. Manny was even more succinct. There goes my Gold Glove, he said. June 13th A worrisome article in the Sunday paper Schill has a bone bruise on his right ankle (his pushoff foot) and is starttostart. Hes been taking Marcaine shots before throwing and wears a brace on days off. What else can go wrong? June 14th Interleague play, my asswhy not call it a marketing ploy, which is what it really is? It fills the stadiums, and I suppose thats a good thing (even the somehow dingy Tropicana Dome was almost filled yesterday, as the temporarilynotsohapless Devil Rays won for the eighth time in their last ten games), but lets tell the truth here fans are paying to see uniforms theyre not used to.


Many of the players inside of those exotic unis (Shawn Green, for instance, a Blue Jays alum who now plays for L.A.) are very familiar. Or hows this for double vision In last nights contest (an805 EDTESPNfriendly start), you had Pedro Martinez starting for the Red Sox. He used to pitch for the Dodgers. And for the Dodgers, you had Hideo Nomo, who used to pitch for the Red Sox (only before the Red Sox, he used to pitch for the Dodgers). Im not saying life was better for the players before Curt Floodit wasntbut rooting was both simpler and a lot less about the uniform. One of the reasons Im such a confirmed Tim Wakefield fan (and am sorry his last couple of starts have been disasters) is because hes been with the Sox for ten years now, and has done everything management has asked of himstarting, middle relief, closingto stay with the Sox. Meanwhile, we won yesterday evenings game, 41. Pedro (the one who used to be with the Dodgers and probably wont be with the Red Sox next year) got the win, with a little defensive helpa lot of defensive help, actuallyfrom Pokey Reese, who made a jawdropping leap to snare a line drive in the seventh inning and save at least one run. Play of the week aint in it, dear; that was a Top Ten Web Gem of the season. Today we have off. We ended up taking two of three from the Pod People and two of three from the Dodgers, and still the Yankees mock us. Yesterday the Padres led the Yanks 20 going into the bottom of the ninth and blew that lead. Led them 52 going into the bottom of the twelfth and blew that lead, as well. The Yankees ended up winning, 65, to maintain their threeandahalfgame edge. I looked at that this morning and reacted not with awe but a species of superstitious dread. Because that kind of thing tends to feed on itself. The rest of the AL East, meanwhile, is bunching up behind the Red Sox in interesting fashion. Baltimores in third and Tampa Bays in the cellar; both to be expected. Whats not to be expectedexcept maybe I did, sortais that at this point, approaching the seasons halfway mark, those two teams are only two games apart, Baltimore 11.5 out and Tampa Bay 13.5. June 16th When I turned in last night at 1115, the Red Sox were down a run to Colorado, 43, but I had a good feeling about the game, and why not? The Rockies have been horrible this year. Besides, Id gotten a call from my publisher saying that Song of Susannah was going straight to number one on the New York Times bestseller list, and thats the sort of day thatssupposed to end with your team winningits practically a national law. I wake up this morning at 645 and turn on SportsDesk, feeling like a kid about to open his Christmas stocking. Unfortunately, what I get in mine is a lump of coal. Red Sox lost; Yankees won. The Christing Yankees won again. I can hardly believe it. Jayme Parker is telling me these bozos now have the best record in baseball, which is no news to me. Im thinking they must have the best record in the entire universe. The Red Sox arent doing badly; by my calculations, we would have won the wildcard spot by two full games, had the season ended yesterday. But I am just so sick of looking at the Yankees collective pinstriped butt in the standings each and every day, so sick of realizing that well still be in second place even if we sweep them when we see them later this month. Theres nothing better than waking up to find your team won and the other guys lost. Conversely, theres no worse way to start the day than finding out your team lost and the other guys won. Its like taking a big swig of the orange juice straight from the carton and discovering that its gone over. June 17th The Red Sox are now back to full strength, or almost (Pokey Reese is daytoday with a jammed toe, as a result of that spectacular catch on the thirteenth). Trot Nixon returned to the lineup with a bang last night, stroking a home run to whats almost the deepest part of Coors Field. So alls right with the world, right? Wrong. The Sox got behind early again and couldnt quite come back, Schilling lost (television viewers were treated to the less than lovely sight of Father Curt, the staffs supposed anchor, pounding the shit out of a defenseless Gatorade cooler after giving up a key twoout hit), and the Yankees won for the 730th time in their last 732 games. Consequently, weve fallen five and a half games out of first place. These will be hard games to make up, assuming they can be made up at all (probably they can), and what hurts the most is that the last two losses have come at the hands of the Rockies, currently major league baseballs worst team. But the Red Sox have a talent for making bad teams look good, I sometimes think; we have done some almighty awful franchises the favor of making themlook terrific for their fans, especially during the two or three weeks after Memorial Day. For this is almost certainly the beginning of that yearly Red Sox rite known as the June Swoon. Longtime fans know it so well they can set their calendars by it, if not their watches; it begins when the NBA finals end. During this years LakersPistons finals,the Sox were busy taking two out of three from both the Padres and the Dodgers, who are vying for the top spot in the NL West. Now that the finals are over, they are busy getting their shit handed to them by the lowly Rockies and their lead in the wildcard raceyes, even thathas melted away to a mere single game. If it is the Swoon, I dont think I can bring myself to write about itbut Ill be watching it happen. Have to do it, man. Its my duty, and not because of this book, either. Its because thats the difference between being a mere fairweather fan and being faithful. Besides, Julys coming, and the Red Sox always turn it around in July. Usually always. I take the Fenway tour in the morning, hoping to catch BK working out. Hes not. The grounds crew is doing something to the track in left; theyve dug up the corner and pulled some padded panels off the wall. We cant go down to field levela drag, since I wanted to walk the track and peek in the scoreboard. We hit the press box, then the .406 Club. While were listening to the guides spiel, I notice two members of our tour being escorted to the mound far below. A man and a woman. The man goes to one knee. KELLI, WILL YOU MARRY ME? the scoreboard flashes. She kisses him, and the tour applauds. We cross the Monster for the big view. Im surprised by how many tours are running at once, and how much activity there is. There are several school groups circling the top of the park the opposite way. Under the bleachers, a crew is setting up a catered job fair; in the rightfield grandstand, workmen are replacing old wooden seats. The last stop is the rightfield roof tables, an anticlimax, and we walk back down the ramp to Gate D, looking down on the players lot. The guard there says BK should be in any minute. Back home, the schedule makers sneak todays game by me. Its a 305 start, 105 mountain time, and when I tune in to NESN at nine oclock theyre showing Canadian football, complete with the 55yard line and Labatts ads painted on the astroturf. I check the website 110 Sox. Lowe threw seven strong, getting 17 groundball outs. Ortiz put it out of reach in the sixth with a threerun shot. It figuresthe one game I miss. June 18th ESPN notes that Lowes shutout was only the second of the Rockies at Coors in their last four hundred games. And the Yanks lost to the Dbacks, so we gained ground. Francona kept Wake out of the Colorado series, citing knuckleballers poor history there, so Wake opens against the Giants at Pac Bell (SBC, if you want to be a stickler). As in his start against the Dodgers last Saturday, hes got nothing. The Giants run on him at will, and Marquis Grissom takes him deep twice for a 72 lead in the fourth. Im at the beach, watching with my nephew Charlie. Why dont they take him out? Charlie asks. Because we dont have anyone else. And theres Malaska warming. With the 1005 start and all the offense, its late, and we dont want to keep the rest of the cottage up. My fatherinlaw, stumping to the bathroom in his skivvies, asks how were doing. Ah, were getting crushed, I say. June 19th The local edition of the Providence Journal only stayed up as late as I did. They have the score 72 in the fifthas if that helps anyone. They won, Charlie says, shrugging. The score was something like eleven to eight. No one can verify it, so I get on my fatherinlaws laptop and hit the website. 149 was the final. Ortiz and Manny went backtoback and Millar had a pinchhit threerun shot over Barry Bondsall in the top of the fifth. Son of a bitch. All we had to do was stay up another ten minutes. Fairweather fans, Trudy says. No, I say. Its the opposite. When I watch them, they lose. I turn it off and they win. June 20th 745 A.M. Todays game against the San Francisco Giants will mark the end of interleague play for the nonce, and Im glad. I dont like it because I think its a marketing stunt, but thats secondary. A New England team has no business on the West Coast, thats what I really think. Still, it should be an interesting contestthe rubber game in a threegame series the Red Sox would dearly love to win. For one thing, it would send them home with a .500 record for the trip. For another, theyd go back to Boston four and a half behind the Yankees, only three and a half if the Dodgers can beat the Yankees again today. And Sox pitching has pretty well muzzled Barry Bonds, who strikes meadmittedly an outsider, but sometimes outsiders see with clearer eyesas one of the games more arrogant and conceited players. His fans in left field hang rubber chickens when Bonds is intentionally walked, but they havent hung many in this series. Oh, and by the Raythe Devil Ray, that isthose Tampa Bay bad boys have now won a franchisebest ten straight. And you know what that makes them, dont you? Right. Hapless no more. SO So where was Foulke yesterday when Alfonzo came to the plate? I know our pen threw five Friday night (tanks, Wake), and that Williamson just got off the DL, but Franconas use of the bullpens been a real mess lately. Weve been behind a fair amount this road trip (just like the last two), but DLowes 110 laugher should have given us a breather. Does Theo need to go and get a middle guy to replace Mendoza and Arroyo, or are Mendoza and Kim actually going to come back and contribute? The AllStar breaks three weeks away, and all weve gotten out of those two is a single quality start from BK. Meanwhile, Dauber languishes in Pawtucket, the forgotten Sock. Yesterday he jacked a foul ball out of McCoy Stadium into the middle of the football field next doorthing must have gone 475 feet. SK Wheres Francona been lately? He could have cost us the game on Friday night, playing Bellhorn at third. Wuz just luck it worked out. The rubbah game today should be good. Did you see the Harvardprof piece in the NY Times about how teams that pitch to Bonds instead of walking him (tentionally or un) do better than those who dont? The Giants score .9 runs an inning when hes walked with none on and no outs, and .6 an inning when hes pitched to in that situation. We pitched to him yesterday, and altho I didnt see the whole game, I think he went 0fer. Oh, and by the wayhow bout those THIRD PLACE Devil Rays? SO That just ties in with the Bill JamesMoneyball OBP philosophy. Get men on and you get men in. And yeah, Barry was 0for yesterday and looked asleep out in left. 10 in a row for the DRaysLou must be pumped. And the Os fans must be pissed. 400 P.M. Its Fathers Day, and Im right where I belong, with a blue westernMaine lake just to my left and the Red Sox ready to start on TV in front of me. Ive got my booka really excellent novel by Greg Bear called Dead Linesto read between innings, and all is okeyfine by me. Its Jason Schmidt against Bronson Arroyo, a mismatch on paper, but as pointed out both on ESPN and in these pages, baseball games arent played on paper but inside TV sets. So well see. One of these things well see is whether or not Schmidt can strike out ten or more (he struck out twelve Blue Jays in his last start), and whether or not Arroyo (currently 25) can keep the ball around the plate. 430 P.M. Bronson Arroyo (whose goatee unfortunately does make him look a bit goatlike) finds his way out of a basesloaded jam in the first, partly by inducing Barry Bonds to pop up. Bonds continues to be an offensive zerofactor in the series. By the way, you have to give it to the people who designed SBC Park; the only ugly thing about it is the name. 500 P.M. Arroyo settles down, but the Red Sox still dont have a hit. Kevin Millar took Schmidt deep, but Bonds snared that one, flipping it backhand into the crowd in almost the same motion. The gesture is gracefuland arrogant at the same time. Watching Barry Bonds play makes me remember the late Billy Martin muttering about some rookie, Ill take the steam out of that hot dog. Bonds is no rookie, but I think the principle is the same. 530 P.M. Kevin Youkilis breaks up Jason Schmidts nohit bid with a hard double. Arroyo fails to bunt him over, but then Giants catcher A. J. Pierzynski drops strike three. Its just a little dribbler, but Pierzynski forgets to throw down to first. A couple of batters later, the Sox find themselves with runners at the corners, two out, and Ortiz at the plate. Big Papi, who leads the AL in runs batted in, stings the ball, but first baseman Damon Minor (whos even bigger than Ortiz) makes a runsaving stab, and Ortiz is out to end the inning. 620 P.M. After a disputed call at third base that goes against the Sox (and gets Terry Francona thrown out for the first time this year), the Giants win the game, 40. Edgardo Alfonzo won it yesterday with a tworun shot off Alan Embree; today he gets the grand salami off Mike Timlin. On the whole, I sort of wish Signor Alfonzo had stayed with the Mets. Them we dont play this year. In any case, Bronson Arroyos best performance of the season was wasted and the Red Sox can finally go home after a disappointing 24 road trip. But heyits Fathers Day, the first day of summer, and Im by the lake with my family. Also, there was baseball. Aint nothing wrong with that. June 22nd I only have to see three atbats of this one. Caitlins birthday dinner eats up the first six innings; its the bottom of the seventh when I tune in. Were up 31, so Schilling must have thrown well. Johnnys on second, Bellhorns on first, one out, with David Ortiz at the plate. He lines a double off the centerfield wall even Torii Hunter cant get to, scoring Johnny. With first open, Ron Gardenhire goes by the book, intentionally walking Manny, except now the number five guy isnt Tek or Dauber or Millar, its Nomar. Reliever Joe Roa dawdles on the mound, and Nomar steps out. He steps back in. Roa delivers, and Nomar blasts one to center that bounces off the roof of the camera platform and ricochets into Section 34. 81 Sox, and Nomars got his first homer of the season and only our second granny. 92s the final, with Foulke leaving them loaded. And Theo finally picks up some middle relief help, former Royal Curtis Leskanic, a thirtysixyearold righty with arm problems. He was 03 with an 8.04 ERA this year before KC cut him. Okay, now tell me the good news. June 23rd The Sox, clearly happy to be back from the West Coast, put a hurtin on the Minnesota Twins last night. The newly returned Nomar Garciaparra hit a grand salami of his own to dead center field. And NESN, in slavish imitation of its bigger brother, Fox Sports (even the name of the features the sameSounds of the Game), decided to mike a player and pick up some ambient audio. The player they picked was the also newly returned Trot Nixon, a wise choice, since Trot, like Mike Timlin, is long on Praise Jesus and short on Youghta knock is fucking head off for that. It was a noble experiment, but a failure, I think. When Nomars home run brought the capacity Fenway crowd to its feet, cheering at the top of its lungs, the TV audience was treated to the sound of a laconic Trot Nixon Go, ball. Go on, now. Ats right. And, greeting 5 as he crossed the plate, these immortal words Good job, Nomie. Nomie? Well, everyone has his walk in life, or so tis saidthe sportswriters have one, the ballplayers another. Maybe thats the point.And we kept pace with the Yankees. That might also be the point. And the haplessnomore DRays won their twelfth straight. And Kevin Youkilis sat last nights out while Mark Bellhorn did not do too much at third base. And Brian Daubach is still hitting meaningless home runs for the tripleA PawSox. Those things might also be the point. Multiple points are, after all, a possibility; even a probability in this increasingly complex world, but Git out, ball? Caitlins graduation takes place on the high schools baseball field. The stage is just beyond first base, and were sitting in shallow right. Ive brought a pocket radio the Pirates gave away in the early 80s with a single sneaky earbud, and as the speeches drag on, Minnesota loads the bases with no outs in the first. Lowe gets two ground balls, but again, we cant turn either double play, and the Twins go up 20 without hitting the ball out of the infield. Later, at the graduation party at our house, I tune in to find the Twins up 42 in the eighth. Pokey hurt his thumb and left the game early. Its a worry because its the same thumb that put him out nearly all of last season. The Twins hold on to win. I catch the highlights Torii Hunter hit a tworun shot in the fifth to put them up 40. We got solo shots from Trot and Bellhorn, that was it. Miraculously, the Os beat the Yanks, so were still four and a half back. June 24th Were the first in Gate E for todays businessmans special, and nab the spot in the corner, hauling in five balls during BP. Pokey doesnt hit, but Bill Muellers here, joking and taking grounders at third. One gets by him and rolls right to me. Thanks, Billy! I hang around the dugout and get Manny to sign my glove, and Gabe Kapler and new guy Curtis Leskanic to sign my allpurpose pearl. I notice Pokeys wearing a brace on his wrist and handanother bad sign. Wake looks better today. He doesnt have that scuffling first inning, and David Ortiz gives us a lead in the bottom with a towering homer down the rightfield line that goes over the Pesky Pole. Ive poached a seat at the far end of the Sox dugout, right behind the camera well, and I have to look to the firstbase ump for a fair call; behind him, Twins first baseman Matthew LeCroy is signaling foul. The Twins get two on a strikeout and passed ball and a pair of wallball doubles to go up 21. In the sixth I snag a foul ball from Bellhorn, a twohop chopper that clears the NESN camera in front of me. Its the easiest play Ive made all day, a chesthigh backhander, so Im in an even better mood when David Ortiz brings us back in the seventh, singling in Youk and Johnny. For some reason, Francona leaves Wake in to pitch the eighth. He gets in trouble, giving up yet another wall double, but Scott Williamson comes on to shut the Twins down. Foulke throws a clean ninth, but we do nothing with our half, and go to extras. Leading off the tenth, speedy Cristian Guzman hits a roller far to Nomars left. Nomar gloves it behind second, then spins to get more on his throw. Its wide. Millar lays out but cant keep it from going in the dugout. Jose Offerman bunts Guzman over to third, giving Lew Ford the chance to knock him in with a soft sac fly. In our half weve got David Ortiz, Manny and Nomar. David flies to right, Manny waves at a third strike a foot outside, Nomar pops foul to the catcher, and we lose 43 on an unearned run. Pokey and McCarty make that play. At the very least, the throw doesnt end up in the dugout. Millar also went a very badlooking 0 for 4. I have no idea what hes doing out there instead of McCarty after the seventh. June 25th 750 A.M. The Red Sox have won exactly one game in each of their last three series, making them three for their last nine. Pokey Reese is injured. The pitching staff is struggling. Our position visvis the Yankees has for a second time sunk to a seasonworst five and a half games out of first place, only this time weve lost our lead in the wildcard race (the Red Sox are currently tied with Oakland for that dubious honor). At the general store where I do my trading during the summer and fall months, people have started asking me whats wrong with the Red Sox. (Because I have been interviewed on NESN, I am supposed to know.) I am also asked when Im going to go on down there and whip those boys into shape. I guess Id better do it this weekend. Ill write for a couple of hours, then throw some clothes and a fresh can of WhipAss in a bag, and leave at 1 P.M. this afternoon. From the lake over here in western Maine, Fenways a threeandahalfhour drive. The weather looks murky, but what the hell; the way the Sox have been playing, a rainout would be almost as good as a win. Besides, Michael Moores polemic Fahrenheit 911 opens tonight. If all else fails, I can go see that. The Carlos Beltran trade finally goes down, a threeway deal that sends him to Houston and Astros closer Octavio Dotel to the As while the Royals pick up three prospects. Its a bad deal for the Sox. Dotels a hard thrower, and the way things are going we may end up battling Oakland for the wild card. Friday night and were in a local pizza place. I see the game all the way across the restaurant on a TV above the bar. I can barely make out the score 20 Sox in the fifth, and Pedros working. I figure were in good shape, since hes gotten past the first. Were talking, and when I look up again, Manny tags one to deep right. It looks out, but Bobby Abreu goes back hard and leaps at the wall, banging into it as the ball lands in his glove. He falls, hanging on to the wall with one armhes got it. Manny just smiles and jogs back to the dugout. I notice its 30 now, so Ive missed something. Trot walks, Millar singles. New pitcher. Tek singles, knocking in another run. Its 40 and were paying the check. Driving home, its still the sixth inning. Youk sends a double off the wall in leftcenter and takes third on the throw home. 60. Bellhorn legs out an infield hit, scoring Youk. New pitcher. We get home and I click on NESN and its still the sixth. The new pitcher has walked Ortiz (who I discover led off the inning with a solo shot) to load the bases for Manny (who has a home run and an RBI double besides being robbed). Manny slices a liner to right that carries over Abreu into the corner. It takes a hop toward a fan at the wall who whiffs on it with both hands, knocking over his beer in the process. The ball caroms off the wall, still live, and all three runners come in. 100 Sox, and this ones done, except for a brilliant diving catch by Manny in the seventh that has Pedro pointing with both hands, giving him props. Pedro goes seven, giving up two hits. Curtis Leskanic throws his first inning as a Sock, and then in the bottom of the eighth the rains come, and the ump calls it. In the Bronx, the same rain wiped out the Mets and Yanks, so we pick up a half game to make it five even. June 26th Its still wet when the gates open, so theres no batting practice today. I hang around the firstbase line and watch the grounds crew roll the tarp off. Mike Timlin signs, and Lenny DiNardo, and just before game time Nomar walks over. Im in the first row, and the crush is enormous. Little boys scream and plead for an autographrock star Nomar. Im a foot away from him, and think hell actually sign the pearl Ive brought, but he only does a couple before scooting down about twenty feet. I poach the corner seat at the end of the camera pita great spot for foul ballsand am immediately rewarded by David Ortiz, tossing me a warmup ball. I get the boot early, and go over and join Steve and Owen. Bronson Arroyos pitched way better than his 26 record, but today hes consistently behind hitters. Youk misses a foul pop by the visitors ondeck circle, then cant handle a throw by Johnny; he chases it down, only to gun it too high for Tek to put a tag on the runner. Jim Thome hits a monster oppositefield shot. Arroyo muffs an easy grounder. Later in the same inning Millar kicks a doubleplay ball into right field. The Phils score five runs, making it 71, and the Phillies fans chant. The Sox are putting the leadoff man on nearly every inning, then stranding him. Late in the game, the stands are halfempty. Its not just that theyre bad, Owen says. Theyre boring. June 27th So I cued up some good CDs and made the threeandahalfhour run from our little town in western Maine to Boston, pumping up for the drive into the city by playing Elviss Baby, Lets Play House and Mystery Train at top volume about nine times, and do I succeed in spraying my fresh can of WhipAss on the Red Sox? I do. Sort of. We lose the middle game, 92 (the Sox commit a numbing four errors), but Pedro wins on Friday night and Schilling wins on Sunday when the Red Sox bounce back from a 30 deficit. Pedros eighth win; Curts tenth. The former was a totally righteous 121 drubbing shortened by thunder and lightning in the eighth inning. The best thing about the weekend is that my youngest son came up from New York to share the Sox with me. These were his first Red Sox games of 2004, his first regularseason games in two years. It was great to be with him, swapping the scorebook back and forth just like old times, catching up on what weve been doing. Stewart ONan joined us on Saturday and that was good, tooit made an essentially boring game funbut there was something especially magical about just the two of us. One of the things baseball is made for, I think, is catching up with the people you used to see all the time, the ones you love and now dont see quite enough. In our family, baseball and swapping scorecardssometimes bought from a vendor outside the park, sometimes from one in the concourse, sometimes a homemade job scrawled on a legal padhave always been a constant. Ive got a drawer with almost thirty years worth of those things saved up, and I could tell you what they mean, but if youve got kids, you probably know what Im talking about. When it comes to family, not all the bases you touch are on the field. The Yankees, thrifty baseball housekeepers for sure, are busily sweeping up the Mets in a Sunday daynight doubleheader, which means well go into our final series of the month with the Bombers five and a half games back. Not an enviable position, but one weve been in before. A gorgeous Sunday afternoon. Its Visor Day, and theyre giving out posters with Tek and Wally promoting reading. Pokey takes BP, a reason for optimism. Im in my favorite spot for BP, hauling in balls, when Placido Polanco rips a hooking liner our way. Heads UP! I bellow, because its going to be a few rows into the crowd behind me. I expect it to bang into a plastic seatback, like most screamers, but this one hits skinand not the fat smack of a thigh or biceps, but a spongy, fungolike sound, unmistakable it nailed somebody in the head. The ball ricochets at a right angle another ten rows into the stands, and a bald guy in his late fifties who was coming down the aisle reels sideways into the seats, still holding his two beers. He wobbles like a fighter trying to stay upright until people take him under the arms and sit him down. He looks dazed, mumbling that hes all right. Im already waving to security to get a trainer out here, medical staff, somebody. Former Sox pitching coach Joe Kerrigan has been pacing the wall all BP, warning kids to keep their eyes on the batters. He gets a ball for the guy, and is standing there talking to me about how dangerous this place ishow Yankee Stadiums the same way down thirdwhen Polanco stings one right at us. It skips once on the track, Joe backs off a step, and I glove it. When BP ends, I check on the bald guy. Hes sitting down, surrounded by security and a couple firstaid guys. On the side of his dome hes got a purplish knot the size of a fried egg. I think he should go to a hospitalat the very least hes got a concussionbut hes talking with them, giving them his information. He wants to stay for the game. Trudys over at Steves seats. She saw all the hubbub; people around her thought it might be a heart attack. She shows me that the souvenircup makers have fixed the SHILLING. He must have a good agent, she says. The pregame ceremonies pay tribute to all the middleaged guys who took part in the Soxs pricey fantasy camp. They fill the baselines, stepping forward and doffing their caps as Carl Beane announces their names. No one except their families is paying attention until two guys on the thirdbase line unfurl a messily spraypainted bedsheet that says YANKEES SUCK. It gets a big hand, but, in typical Fenway fashion, when the guys walk by us on their way off, someone behind me hollers, Is that the best you could do with the sign? June 28th Both the Sox and Yanks wanted Freddy Garcia, but the White Sox got him, for a secondstring catcher and a pair of prospects. Like the As, even if they dont take their division, theyll be in the wildcard hunt, and theyve made themselves stronger. Theos got another month to cut a deal. One more solid starter would solve a lot of problems. Jeff Suppan, who we let walk after last year, is 65 with a 3.75 ERA for the firstplace Cards. (And Tony Womack, one of our springtraining invitees, is hitting .300 for them and running all over the place.) Tomorrow we start a threegame set with the Yankees in the Bronx. Short of a sweep by either team (unlikely), it wont change the standings much, but it could set the tone of the AllStar break. Looking back at the first half of the season, Id say weve played well with a bangedup club. Ten games over .500 isnt great but it isnt bad either, given the team were putting out there. And yet they do seem like the same old Sox a couple of great hitters surrounded by mediocre guys, zero defense, inconsistent pitching, and the usual June swoon. It could be 1987 or 1996 or 2001. June 29th Both Lowe and Vazquez have thrown well lately, so the openers an even matchup. To show how big of a game it is, Vice President Dick Cheneys crawled out of his hideyhole and is sitting in the front row. Johnny D sets the tone, leading off with a home run. The Ghost of Tony Clark gets it back in the second with a twoout RBI single. To prove it wasnt a fluke, Johnny hits another out in the third, and were up 21. In the bottom, Lofton leads off with a ground ball to Millars right. He drops it, and by the time he recovers, Kennys beaten Lowe to the bag. Jeter singles, and Lofton scoots to third. On the first pitch, Sheffield flies deep enough to leftcenter to tie the game. Jeter steals second easily. ARod singles off the thirdbase bag, the ball popping straight up so that Bellhorn has to wait for it, and Jeter holds at second. With Matsui up, Jeter and ARod pull the double steal on 22unforgiveable, with a lefty batting. On a full count, Matsui knocks a curveball thats down and in (terrible pitch selection to any lefty, but especially this guy, who cut his teeth on breaking stuff in Japan) into right. Its 42, and the rare weeknight sellout crowd is on its feet. In the Yanks fourth, with one down, Lowe walks former Cardinal Miguel Cairo, who, on the very next pitch, steals Teks sign for a curve and swipes second. Does Varitek throw any runners out? my fatherinlaw asks, and I have to defend him. Like Wakes knuckler, Lowes sinker is a tough pitch to dig out. With two down, Nomar kicks a grounder from Jeter that should end the inning, and Sheffield takes Lowe out to leftcenter for a 72 lead. The next inning, Pokey (Pokey!) muffs a doubleplay ball, and Tony Clark goes long. Its 92, and all the runs have come from hired guns Sheffield, Matsui, Clark. Lenny DiNardo is warming, and short of a miracle, this ones done.