Series Won by the "Right" Sox

Like the blink of an eye, the ALDS series between the two American League Sox was over. At the end of it all, it seemed like Boston did not know what hit them. They were supposed to score the runs, come from behind, and have all the fun. They were the most recent “October kids”, fresh off a historic postseason in which they broke almost all the unwritten rules. They were supposed to face the Yankees in the next round.

Except Chicago did not really agree.
The two teams were a model of contradictions, almost to the point of the New York-Boston rivalry: the White Sox, a no-horseplay, down-to-business National League-style club complete with bunts, steals, and starting pitching; and the Red Sox, with high emotions, high margin for error, and the balance resting essentially on two sluggers’ shoulders.

Their respective managers shared many differences, too: Ozzie Guillen, the animated and volatile Chicago ringer, whose genius is in his presence and constant play-calling; and the Red Sox manager, Terry Francona, who seems to do best when he just lets his players play, giving them encouragement along the way.

Chicago had a fantastic three-quarters of a season, before they nearly imploded, letting a fifteen game lead almost completely fall from their grasp. It was the season nobody saw coming–entering March with question marks after losing sluggers Carlos Lee, Jose Valentin, and Magglio Ordonez and replacing them with role players Scott Podsednik, Tad Iguchi, and Jermaine Dye. Their pitching staff was young and/or old–beyond Mark Buerhle and Freddy Garcia there was no one expected to win more than 10-12 games. Yet, Jose Contreras won 15 and Jon Garland won 18. And the bullpen, with a floundering Shingo Takatsu, had guys like Dustin Hermanson (34 saves), Damaso Marte (3.77 era), and Bobby Jenks (98 mph fastball) step up all year.

And yet, they seemed destined to fall early to the counterpart Sox. Boston does not lose to teams like Chicago–they devour them. Manny Ramirez, fresh off a 3-homer weekend series with the Yanks, looked unstoppable. David Ortiz, with his late-inning heroics against Toronto and Tampa Bay, seemed unbeatable.

But that’s where it ended. Papi and Manny did their work, combining for a .315 avg, 3 homeruns, and (only) five RBI, but the cliff dropped from there. Johnny Damon was subdued, Trot Nixon defenseless, and Edgar Renteria is still no Orlando Cabrera. The two-headed monster tried to win a battle without legs. And it lost.

If I’m Boston, I’m pissed. I’m pissed because we could barely give a fight–forget a fight we could barely keep our heads above water. Ozzie Guillen out-managed us, stealing three bases, including a crucial suicide-squeeze in game 3, and he had the umpires on his side all week. He used his starting pitchers to a tee, not wasting Buerhle or Contreras, and keeping faith in his bullpen and inexperienced closer Bobby Jenks. Where did El Duque come from? Ask Ozzie, who said before the series even began “I know this kid is going to show up with cold blood”, taking Hernandez and his 5.71 ERA on the postseason roster over rookie upstart Brendan McCarthy. You looking for a manager more in tuned with his players? Good luck.

I’d be pissed because my pitching staff let me down. Matt Clement got rocked game 1, and I mean rocked. His control was awful. Wells pitched strong, and Graffanino’s error hurt him, but Tony didn’t serve up the Iguchi homerun ball. Good pitchers can overcome bad defense–look at what the Sox did last year. And then Wakefield lost his stuff in the fifth inning, and once you lose the knuckle-ball you’re good as gone. This was not supposed to happen. It was supposed to be Curt Schilling for 8 innings, then Bronson Arroyo for 8, then Wade Miller for 8. Series over. What happened to that?

And I’d be pissed because they played like they didn’t even care. I’m not just talking about these last three games, I’m talking about the last three weeks. Before the final series of the season, David Ortiz was quoting as saying “Manny’s excited now”. Now? Manny’s being Manny, and that’s what kills me. He may prove his worth on the field physically, but the proper mentality is far askew. Does anybody else get the feeling that the fans were the only ones who knew the Sox were losing their lead? Do you think Terry Francona, or Manny Ramirez, or Mike Timlin had any idea just how close they came to losing it all. Sometimes I see Jason Varitek, and his pride and competitiveness and hard-work, and I think, buddy, you’re on the wrong team. Why do you do this to yourself? How can you be so serious and heavy-hearted with Johnny Damon lying around the clubhouse naked, Kevin Millar proclaiming he’s the “Tom Brady of the team”, and Manny Ramirez just getting excited, now? Varitek sticks out like a nun in a strip club–he’s a professional and he doesn’t belong in Boston.

He belongs in Chicago.

And that’s where the line is drawn. This isn’t about the Yankees-Red Sox anymore; it’s about those who can win and those who can’t. In my opinion, the Red Sox last year put together a string of great games together at the right time–it says nothing about their will, or teamwork, or believing, or whatever. It was a lot of talent and a lot of luck. Period.

Things didn’t go that way this year because the no-nonsense club shut them up, and shut them out. The White Sox didn’t “Cowboy Up”; they tied their shoelaces, put on their caps, and never cracked a smile until it was all over.

“We beat one of the best teams in baseball,” said Guillen, afterwards. “But fly real low. Don’t get too excited.”

It would be completely out of character if anybody on that team did.