It's high time we add season to list of lows
Goodbye to the Yankees for another year. The Sox and Bombers jousted 19
times this season, several of them epic, but in the end the Yanks took the
season series, 10-9, on the strength of last night's 3-1 victory in the
Bronx. In addition to losing another game, the Sox endured the usual
indignities: a guy with ''1918'' stenciled on his forehead, photos of Babe
Ruth plastered to the stadium facades, and the standard ''Boston
[expletive]'' and ''1918'' chants. Oh, and another killer GIDP from
Joggin' Manny Ramirez.
Today is the 84th anniversary of the first game of the 1918 World
Series (the Bambino blanked the Cubs, 1-0). And now we know it's not going
to happen again this year.
Happily, Boston won't see another good team this season. The soft
parade starts with Toronto, the first in a series of American League
tomato cans who round out the Sox schedule. Still, it's probably too late
to save a season that started with such promise (remember 40-17?). The Sox
trail in the wild-card hunt by a season-high 61/2 games with 25 to play.
''We're gonna keep fighting,'' said last night's loser, Derek Lowe.
''But we kind dug ourselves in a really big hole.''
The Yawkey Way arcade experiment starts this afternoon. CNN no doubt is
standing by. Fenway activists would have you believe that the expansion of
the ancient ballpark's footprint will produce something akin to the
parade-riot scene in ''Animal House'' (''May I have 10,000 marbles
please''). Don't bet on it. There'll be no togas and no Hell's Angels
working security. The betting here is that it will be tamer than your
average late-night session of the Massachusetts House of Representatives.
The most combustible moment of the evening could be the introduction of
Sox starting pitcher John ''I Won't Go To The All-Star Game'' Burkett. The
shaky starter was the most militant would-be striker last week, then went
home while the rest of his teammates waited at Fenway for the announcement
of the settlement.
While his mouth roared, Burkett's arm went stale. He's been a meatball
artist since midsummer and appeared to pitch himself out of the rotation
last weekend in Cleveland. But Pedro Martinez is hurting, the Sox are
strapped, and Burkett takes his regular turn tonight. More than any
neighborhood activist or litigious publisher, Burkett could be affected by
John W. Henry's new Beer Garden.
(Speaking of our business partner, some of us at the Times/Globe are a
little concerned about how this new Basic Agreement may impact our
investment in the Red Sox and we may urge Henry and Larry Lucchino to vote
''no'' when owners get around to ratification of the pact.)
As for Grady Little, what is there to say? Lucchino is not a patient
man and if the Sox go south this month, Grady might find himself
harvesting the lower 40 on his old John Deere, collecting two more years
of salary from the Red Sox. Fan patience with Grady Gump is waning. The
reservoir of good will is low. ''Too nice'' and ''too comfortable'' are
expressions being tossed around. Seeing Dick Williams come back with the
'67 team didn't help.
It was pathetic to hear Grady still using the summer long labor crisis
as an excuse after last night's loss. When the topic came around to the
idea of the Sox maybe waiting too long to go into high gear, Grady
actually said, ''Up until last Friday, I think I know where all of our
guys' focus was.''
Wow. What an indictment. It doesn't make the manager look good. It
certainly won't fly in the CEO suite.
Ken Macha is loosening in the on-deck circle. Poor Grady. Hard to
believe he may not even last as long as Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob
Thornton.
Then there's Gentleman Mike Port. Port has done everything he's been
asked to do. He's handled messy situations (Jose Offerman) with typical
class and dignity. He went out and got Cliff Floyd and Alan Embree for the
stretch run. And now all we hear is that he's not Lucchino's guy, and
therefore, not the GM much longer.
I say Port is the perfect guy for this job. He knows what he's doing,
can bombard Lucchino with information, but won't argue with his boss if
he's overruled. Lucchino and a hard-headed, boy-wonder GM-on-the-rise
won't mix.
As for Pedro, it's beginning to feel like 2001. There's no sense
sending the little guy back out there until he's 100 percent. The next two
seasons are too important. There's still hope for 2003 and 2004.
Why do I feel like the same can't be said for 2002?
No more Yankees. It's all Blue Jays, Devil Rays, Orioles, Indians, and
White Sox from now until Sept. 29. The Sox are coming home to die and New
England is ready for some football.
By Dan Shaughnessy, Globe Staff
This story ran on page F1 of the Boston Globe on
9/5/2002.
Copyright
2002 Globe Newspaper Company.