It's the same, old story for town's team
I know. It's hard to remember them fondly now. They are like the guy
who died before paying off a $10,000 debt. Each time his name comes up,
all you can think is, ''That [expletive] owes me something.''
That's true of the Sox, with one exception. They didn't leave this
world with everyone else's cash. They left with a region's emotional
investments in their pockets. By the time everyone realized who they were
- a group of well-intentioned guys who were incapable of closing a deal -
it was too late. Their spirit, along with your hope, was already gone.
What a shame. Remember how much fun they were in winter and spring?
Remember the festive team dinners in Fort Myers? Remember the crew from
ESPN arriving in Florida to feature the Sox on ''The Life''? Remember
seeing Tony Clark, the nicest man in baseball, sign autographs and quote
from The Book of Philippians?
Now we know there wasn't a lot of joy at the postgame spreads in late
summer. The camera crews were mostly local and asking questions (''What
happened to you guys?'') that no one could seem to answer. Clark remained
as pleasant and intelligent as ever - while hitting .212. With fewer home
runs than Lou Merloni. And when someone mentioned a Sox player and the
Book, most fans thought of the Book of Numbers.
Oh, the numbers. There were so many numbers with the Sox that either
made you sad or didn't make sense at all. Seven All-Stars ... 91/2 games
out of first place. Second-best intradivision record in all of baseball
(Minnesota is first) ... 71/2 games behind the wild-card leader ... three
midseason trades to help with a playoff push ... the third consecutive
season with no baseball postseason in Boston.
We have all had friends like these. They are the frequent subjects of
our amateur psychology. We determine they are close to turning it around,
if only they had more support. Or different management. Or Oprah. Or
positive role models. Or motivational speakers. Or a little more time.
With friends like these, you feel like you're eulogizing your enemies.
There is no need to be frustrated with the Sox today, because now it is
unquestionably clear who they are and what they represent. The word around
New England is that they underachieved, a summary that is half true. There
are many sides to underachievement, so if people mean the Sox are not
''accomplished,'' then that's accurate. But if they mean the Sox did not
reach their ''potential,'' there is no evidence to support that.
The 1999 Sox, with a similar nucleus, were called overachievers.
The 2000 Sox, with a similar nucleus, were called underachievers.
The 2001 Sox, with a similar nucleus, were called underachievers with a
bad attitude.
In 2002, once again, we are talking about what the deceased could have
been.
You know you have a friend when they accept you for who you are, and
it's time to accept the last three versions of the Sox. Can we truly call
it underachieving after three years? Central and fringe characters have
come and gone, but the results remain the same.
Jimy Williams is in Houston, Carl Everett is in Arlington, Texas, Joe
Kerrigan is in Philadelphia, Jose Offerman is in Seattle, and Dan Duquette
is in Acton. The team has been sold. The television deal has been
reworked. The clubhouse has been remodeled. Expensive seats have been
added next to the dugout. Yawkey Way is now the site of a pregame
festival.
And the Sox, God love them, change as quickly as glaciers change.
They teased everyone in April and May, winning 40 of their first 57
games. They appeared to be different. After a while, like most
people, they returned to their natural selves. You can't be angry with
them for that.
No one will forget how much fun they used to be in '02. Pedro Martinez
was a poet on the mound. Derek Lowe and Shea Hillenbrand matured. Nomar
Garciaparra hit three home runs in the first game of a doubleheader. Katie
Couric and Mia Hamm visited town.
It's over now, and there is no use being irrational about it. Let's
hope Larry Lucchino understands this. If he tries to solve the problem by
firing Grady Little, his '02 Sox lived their lives in vain. The manager
was not the problem last year nor is he now. In the offseason, Lucchino
needs to find a talented general manager who can remix and resuscitate the
Sox.
The current team tried. The current team had compassionate and
interesting people. The current team was killed by its inability to hit
and pitch in the clutch.
By Michael Holley, Globe Staff
This story ran on page E1 of the Boston Globe on
9/7/2002.
Copyright
2002 Globe Newspaper Company.