Is there no limit to the humiliation we can endure when the Yankees come to town as August gives way to September?
Apparently not. This Red Sox-Yankees ''rivalry'' is so predictable it strains all limits of believability. BoSox screwups become instant folklore (''Why did he take out Castillo?'' has already taken its place alongside ''Why did he take out Willoughby?'') as we play into this ninth decade of New York dominance over Boston.
Thousands of college freshmen - a new generation of youngsters from around the world - have descended on our town this weekend, and the Hub Hardball Nine are conveniently offering a three-day tutorial in the sorrow and pity that consumes Red Sox Nation.
Yesterday, on a splendid, crisp afternoon at the Fens, the Yankees overcame an eighth-inning deficit for the second straight game, winning, 2-1, as the Red Sox went on national television to announce their resignation from the 2001 pennant race. Boston has lost seven straight and trails New York by a whopping eight with 28 to play.
We are pathetic here at Fenway-by-the-Charles. Sox fans chant ''Yankees suck'' in the grandstands, at rock shows, even at wedding receptions. They wear shirts and carry signs with the same message and inimitable sports talkmaster Eddie Andelman has gotten mileage all season promoting his ''Yankee Elimination Party.''
Meanwhile, the Yankees go about their business from April through August - paying little attention to the noise in Boston - then crush our spirit every autumn. And now it's happening again, right at home, in front of the sad eyes of the Nation. If Mike Mussina takes care of business tonight, this series will take its rightful place alongside the Boston Massacre of 1978, the final weekend of '49, and all the other indignities heaped upon the Olde Towne Team since Babe Ruth was sold to New York (1919).
Speaking of George Herman, would Pedro Martinez like to rethink that challenge he issued May 30, when he said, ''Bring back the Bambino and have me face him and I'll drill him in the ass''?
Martinez pitched a stellar six innings of two-hit, no-walk, six-strikeout, shutout ball yesterday, but he is now 0-for-June-July-August-September since taunting the Big Fella.
Martinez did not stick around to talk after the disappointing loss. Closer Ugueth Urbina and outfielder Carl Everett, two of the goats of the game, also refused to comment. Perhaps the silence is a tribute to the spirit of invisible general manager Dan Duquette, who remains sequestered in his private box while almost all of his moves blow up in his face.
Really, could it get any worse for the Duke? Friday night his team lost to Roger Clemens, the greatest pitcher in franchise history, who is working on an 18-1 record and his third Cy Young since the Duke dismissed him as being in the ''twilight'' of his career. The immortal Izzy Alcantara, another Duke pet, dropped a throw at first base to help lose the game and manager Joe Kerrigan made the skull-imploding decision to remove Frank Castillo after seven innings of two-hit, shutout ball.
Yesterday, the Duke's adopted son, Everett, lost a popup in the sun (or the wind) that cost a run, went 0 for 3, and dropped to .255.
''You're talking to the wrong guy,'' Everett said when asked to explain the popup confusion, which also included second baseman Chris Stynes.
Urbina was the victim of the lost fly (which was scored a double because nobody touched it) but compounded the problem by giving up two other hits, including a decisive homer to Bernie Williams in the ninth.
Urbina is the guy the Yankees rejected earlier this season because they think his elbow is gone. He's also the guy Duquette wanted as Sox closer - a move Jimy Williams was reluctant to make.
Ah, the ex-manager. How long before the ''Bring Back Jimy!'' placards are spotted around the yard? The Red Sox were 12 games over .500 and one game behind Oakland in the loss column when the Duke axed goober Jimy. They are 6-10 under Kerrigan and can't see Oakland with the Hubble Telescope. After pledging lineup stability in his inaugural address, Kerrigan has written 16 different lineups in 16 games - which is not his fault, but merely a reflection of what any manager must do given Duquette's assemblage of broken-down talent. Look for lineup No. 17 tonight as Everett (hopefully) takes a seat on the bench. Too bad the Duke didn't trade this crazed loser when Everett's value was high; instead we were told that all that mattered was performance on the field.
The first two games of this series have served to encapsulate 83 years of Boston frustration measured against Yankee success. And to think the Sox have to go to New York to play these guys four more times next weekend. Ouch.
''If it happens, it happens,'' Manny Ramirez said with a sigh of resignation. ''If not, we come back next year. It's not gonna be the end of the world.''
Somebody's got to tell Manny that this is the end of the world to a lot of folks who die a little death every year the Sox don't win. It might also be a good idea for Manny to lose the earrings. Somehow a team looks more beatable when its cleanup hitter walks to the plate with Band-Aids over both earlobes. (Oh, while we're at it, Manny, stop admiring your hits and run out the ball.)
This Sox-Yankees thing reminds me of backyard basketball with my brother, who was 6 years older and a much better player. He always won. And he would tease me, just for the sport of it, letting me take a 6-0 lead in a 7-point game, then crushing my spirit with seven consecutive baskets.
The Yankees have crushed the spirit of New England again. It's September, it's baseball, and the story line never, ever changes.
By Dan Shaughnessy, Globe Columnist, 9/2/2001
This story ran on page 1 of the Boston Globe on 9/2/2001
© Copyright 2001 Globe Newspaper Company