Who woulda ever thought we would read this article???
Pomp and circumstance
By Eric Wilbur, Boston.com Staff | April 11, 2005
Last updated: 4:18 p.m.:
So, the Red Sox stage a grand pregame ceremony, handing out the World Series rings to all of last fall’s heroes, complete with Derek Lowe and Dave Roberts, and the two best moments of the entire afternoon come from a Yankee and a Patriot. How in the name of Arquimedez Pozo did this happen?
After fans roared for the 2004 Red Sox, who received their rings one by one, culminating with Johnny Pesky receiving his after 64 long years, the New York Yankees were introduced along the third base line.
When Mariano Rivera’s name was called, the fans gave the Yankee closer a standing ovation, thanking him for his two blown saves in the ALCS, and last week in the Bronx.
But when Tedy Bruschi came out to toss the ceremonial first pitch, along with Richard Seymour, Bill Russell, and Bobby Orr, Fenway Park went ecstatic. Here was the guy who has helped deliver three Super Bowl titles to New England. The same guy who had suffered a stroke just a few months back. The guy who reportedly has a hole in heart and has his playing future in doubt. And here he was, wearing Terry Francona’s No. 47, an obvious tribute to the Red Sox manager’s own recent health troubles.
This was a moment planned, yet guaranteed to put an extra chill into the air. Rivera’s off-the-cuff reaction was so genuine that the sellout crowd had no choice but to laugh along with him.
The unfolding of the team’s World Series banners one by one over the Green Monster to the chords of “2001” by members of the Boston Symphony and Pops (good, but could have used a Mike Gordon riff) was certainly a highlight of what was a solid if not spectacular pregame ceremony. Unfortunately, some members of roof box section eight were forced to miss it when some yahoo ran in asking every person, “What section is this? What section is this?” It was about two minutes before the guy realized he was being ignored because of what was going on down on the field. Unreal.
Unkempt youngster James Taylor did a nice rendition of “America, the Beautiful.” Or as Homer Simpson would call him, Former President James Taylor.
A number of our “greatest American heroes” were on the field before the ring ceremony, as members of the US military were on hand shaking hands with the players and Red Sox staff to chants of “USA” from the crowd. In a related note, Yankee broadcaster Jim Kaat was in the house, but no William to speak of.
Dave Roberts was a surprise appearance. As was Ramiro Mendoza.
How happy a day was it at Fenway? The crowd even saluted Dale Sveum.
Cruel name department, Vol. 16: Wouldn’t it have been much cooler if the Red Sox video coordinator wasn’t named Billy Broadbent, but Billy Broadband? Imagine the marketing campaigns. No?
The raising of the 2004 World Series championship pennant, while a grand idea with members of last year’s team, along with Red Sox legends including Dwight Evans, Dom DiMaggio, and Bill Lee, was tainted by the singing of Terry Cashman, whose ballad of the Red Sox and the curse being dead was, in a word, pathetically and painfully awful. It was so bad that as the pennant was being raised in center field, fans were rather quiet. The pinnacle moment of all this, and we’ve got Terry Cashman. The Yankees had to be embarrassed for everyone involved in this one. Ugh.
Really. Classy.
During a moment of silence being observed for former Sox hurler Dick Radatz, some piece of Samsonite along the third base line decided to break the silence by screaming, “A-Rod, you suck.”
Derek Lowe, Dave Roberts, Ellis Burks, and Johnny Pesky met with members of the media in the interview room immediately following the pregame ceremonies. Lowe called today, “A good day to move on.” Although you have to wonder what Lowe and Roberts’ teammates on the Dodgers and Padres, respectively, thought about them wearing Sox jerseys today.
Lowe’s tone turned serious when asked about this offseason.
“Nothing happened,” he said. “And I don’t mean that sarcastically. Nothing happened. There never was an attempt to have me come back.”
Roberts, when asked how special this all felt, even for a guy who was in Boston for a total of three months, remembered how in one of his first at-bats at Fenway, he successfully moved a runner from first to second by sacrifice, and received a nice ovation from the crowd. “I went back to the dugout and I said, ‘That might be the best ovation I’ve gotten all year long.’”
That, of course, didn’t stay status quo.
Carl Yastrzemski darted straight from the field to his waiting car outside the players parking lot, where he signed a few autographs before quickly zipping away.
1:57 p.m.:
I know it’s cruel, but has anyone else envisioned giving Big League Brian, the dude on the stilts out on Yawkey Way, a swift kick in the kneecaps, just to see how talented he really is…
They’ve extended the row of framed newspapers up here in the press box. What used to be just one row of Boston Globe sports fronts (including one of my favorite headlines ever, the day after Derek Lowe’s no-hitter: “Lowe’s Theater” but still second to the Boston Herald’s account a few years back of a second cat lady in the city, “Deja Mew) now wraps around with day after World Series editions. Among those on hand: The Rocky Mountain News, Philadelphia Inquirer, Toronto Globe and Mail, Norwich Bulletin, Concord Monitor, the Globe, Herald, and many more.
I know, you’ve read this far to find the important news. Here it is: Beers are up to six bucks.
As the Yankees emerged from their dugout for their pregame stretching ritual, they were quite obviously jeered by the fans along the third base line. “We’re in your head, Mariano,” one fan screamed. But, and this may be due to the wine and dine nature of Opening Day, I have to tell you it was pretty calm based on the fact this was the team’s first appearance since baseball history went all asunder. I expected more.
As Manny Ramirez was waiting to get his licks in during Boston’s batting practice, he teased a few of the Yankees who were nearby on the ground, stretching, hovering over them and waving his stick of lumber.
Your worst Fenway nightmare may be on the way. Sushi, perhaps? A Lefty and Righty mascot revival campaign? Until then, how is this for nauseating: Apparently unable to quell the throngs demanding them any more,
you can now purchase (and I wish I didn’t have to deliver this news to you) a Red Sox Rally Monkey. Thunderstix should be here any day now.
Nantucket Nectars has set up a giant card out in the centerfield concourse, urging fans to sign it and give their suggestion to the Red Sox brass. For everyone that signs, Nantucket Nectars will donate one dollar to charity. At the urging of one of the Nectar volunteers, I took the Sharpie and signed "Good luck," or something lame like that, when I should have written, "For the love of God, put a stake into 'Tessie.'"
Fans entering the ballpark received signs that read, “I got you Babe.”
Speaking of, if you’re not in the stands now (1:48 p.m. ET), good luck getting here in time. Fans were lined up around the corner of Brookline Ave. waiting to get in at 11:30 this morning. Gates opened at 12:30, to an enormous throng awaiting on the other side of the ballpark, near the players’ parking lot.
12:32 p.m.: Now that it’s here, the most-anticipated Opening Day in the history of Boston baseball, do you care who the opponent is? Do you really?
There is a certain sweetness to the fact that it IS the New York Yankees in the visitor’s dugout at Fenway Park, the very same team whose monumental collapse opened the door for the Red Sox to make history, but it is minimal with what we expect to be on tap here today. Send in the Devil Rays for all we care. It won’t change what is certain to be one of the most special hours on the corner of Yawkey and Brookline.
The Red Sox, and their Nation of rabid inhabitants, celebrate, for one last time, the World Championship that eluded New Englanders for 86 years. Rings will be handed out. Grown men will cry. Fans will go ballistic over the sight of Derek Lowe, and enraged at the first glimpse of the lefthander who replaced him on the roster.
There is the traditional Opening Day, and then there is OPENING DAY. This is the one we’ve all waited for, and no matter the lurking fear that it could all be a little disappointing, depending upon your expectation levels, the honest truth is that only a blowout loss in the game they play after all the pomp and circumstance has ended could dampen the spirits of a fandom that is rapidly filling up the streets of the Fenway this morning.
Tedy Bruschi (along with Bobby Orr, Larry Bird) is rumored to be tossing out the first pitch, a decision that quite frankly couldn’t be topped no matter whom you flew in. The Boston Pops will handle the National Anthem. Too bad Ray Charles is no longer with us to repeat his stirring rendition of “America the Beautiful” like he did on this very field two years ago.
The Red Sox are 2-4 to start the season, but it won’t matter today. Not a Cool Dog lick. It is a crisp, sun-drenched, fall-like day in Boston today, which should only add to the chills.
Baseball is back in Boston. The World Champs are back at Fenway. After seven months of basking in the glow of the World Series title, there is one more hour of partying to be done. And the Yankees are here. OK, I lied. It does make it all that much better.
Cue the chants.
Tito's back
After missing his team’s last four games with a health scare, a subdued Terry Francona has indeed returned to manage the Red Sox, and met with the media this morning at Fenway Park.
“I feel OK. More embarrassed than anything,” he said. “I have an obligation to this team and I missed it. That bothered me more than anything.”
After countless tests on body parts Francona joked he didn’t even know he had, doctors at Massachusetts General Hospital concluded that Francona had a viral infection in his chest, quelling the skipper’s fears that he had had a heart episode while preparing for the Red Sox’s third game of the season in New York. He was taken by ambulance from Yankee Stadium to the hospital, where he sat while his team went out and won its first game of the season under interim manager Brad Mills.
Francona admitted that he needed to watch his diet and exercise more to avoid future scares. Doctors also told him to avoid stress, something that certainly doesn’t come easy with managing a baseball team, not to mention, the Boston Red Sox.
“I’ll try to figure that one out,” he said.
Still, while Francona says he is feeling OK, he told the press that he woke up this morning feeling lousy, and there is the unavoidable history of heart problems in his family. His father, Tito, has undergone a pair of open hearty surgeries, and Francona said heart attacks have been responsible for the deaths of a few members of his family. When asked whether that number was two, three of four family members, Francona quietly said, “More than that.”
At no point did Francona fear he might have to end his tenure with the Red Sox to take care of his health. In fact, watching his team on TV over the weekend made him want to get back to the bench all the more. Witnessing Keith Foulke almost blow a save in Toronto Friday night certainly didn’t help his stress level for sure.
“Watching Foulkie the other night,” he said, “if I didn’t have a heart attack then…”
Francona met with the media in the brand, spanking new interview room, located one level up from Gate D on Yawkey Way. Reminiscent of a college classroom, it features a Sony Wega flat screen, approximately 30 inches, lights more than adequate for the TV cameras, and the most innovative feature: room. At almost three times the size of the team’s old interview room, located to the left of the Red Sox clubhouse, it more than handily fit members of both the Boston and New York press circuits. Today was obviously the debut of the new room, quite evident by the handful of press members walking around in circles in an attempt to locate it.
Fine, you take the new concourse, food courts, bathrooms, and nightclub as your favorite additions to Fenway Park. I’m sticking with the availability of Frank’s Red Hot on every table in the press dining room.
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