The recent sale of the Boston Red Sox attracted little notice in
New York, and probably wouldn't have even if New Yorkers hadn't had other
things on their mind. Who are the Red Sox, after all, except another team
that gets beat by the Yankees? But in Boston, where the Sox are no mere
ball club but a civic and cultural institution, the story was front-page
news and the occasion of public lamentation. "Sleazy," "sordid," "bag job"
were among the kinder descriptions in the local press of the deal that
will eventually hand over the Sox to a group headed by John Henry, a
Florida financier and owner of the Florida Marlins, and Tom Werner, a
Hollywood television producer and creator of "Roseanne." Dozens of suitors, including several locals, had lined up for the
privilege of paying a fortune for the historic franchise (the winning
offer was estimated to be $700 million), and nearly all were found wanting
by the Red Sox faithful — mostly on grounds of underfinancing. Fans were
concerned that the new owners might have to hit up the taxpayers to pay
the bills or, worse, that they would scrimp on players' salaries, thus
lengthening the team's legendary World Championship drought, which has
lasted since 1918. The Werner group appeared to be well financed, and had
promised to preserve the team's fabled home, Fenway Park, but not even
that made up for the fact that they were outsiders — "carpetbaggers," in
the words of Dan Shaughnessy, a columnist for The Boston Globe. Not just any kind of carpetbaggers, either. Critics were quick to
notice that the Werner group included, as a minority partner, The New York
Times Company It's true that precisely because the Red Sox are such an institution,
not all articles about the team appear on the sports page, and so the
journalistic concerns are not entirely far-fetched. (The Times says its
minority interest would present a conflict of interest only if Globe or
Times reporters or editors were required or encouraged to give the team
favored treatment. This, the company adds, will not be the case.) All the
same, outsiders may be forgiven for wondering if Bostonians would object
as strenuously if both the team and The Globe had been purchased by, say,
the Tribune Company IT'S possible, in other words, that The Times is not really the issue
at all (though some Bostonians still resent its takeover, six years ago,
of The Globe, which until then had been owned by a local family, the
Taylors, who, as it happens, were also the builders of Fenway Park).
Rather, the problem may not be the paper so much as its address: N.Y.C.
The rivalry between Boston and New York, between the Red Sox and the
Yankees, is one of the oldest and bitterest in sports, and Boston has been
on the short end ever since the fateful moment in 1919 when Harry Frazee
sold Babe Ruth, then a Red Sox pitcher, to the Yankees for $25,000 and
three i.o.u.'s so he could finance a Broadway musical. This was the
beginning, many Bostonians are convinced, of the dread Curse of the
Bambino, a spell of inferiority and World Series winlessness that has hung
over their city ever since. If you acknowledge the Curse (and the Red Sox
loss to the Yankees in the 2000 playoffs made confirmed believers of many
who had only been slightly paranoid before), then to have your home team
owned by The New York Times only confirms your sense that the universe is
deeply and hurtfully unfair. On the other hand, studious Bambinologists may have noticed a curious
augury or two. New York's new mayor, Michael R. Bloomberg, is a Bostonian
by birth and has confessed to being a furtive Sox fan. At his swearing-in
ceremony outside City Hall on New Year's Day, the host was not a Yankee
(as he surely would have been if it were Rudy Giuliani taking the oath
again) but a Met. And not even Mike Piazza but the journeyman hurler Al
Leiter, who had a 2.87 E.R.A. against the Yankees in the 2000 Series. Was
His Honor trying to send a message to the folks back home?
By Charles McGrath This story ran
in The New York Times on January 6, 2002
© Copyright 2002 The New York Times
Company