Introduction: Sox Bid Curse Farewell: The 2004 Boston Red Sox

Sox Bid Curse Farewell began as a project of SABR’s Boston Chapter, but as the 20th anniversary of the 2004 Red Sox season approached, it was adopted by the national organization and we are pleased to have it presented as a SABR publication. At the beginning of 2024, SABR published its 100th book in the SABR Digital Library. 

This book is free to all SABR members. One of the real benefits of SABR membership is free access to all of SABR’s publications in digital form – books and journals – a value that is many times greater than the cost of membership.

Each SABR book is written by SABR members and edited by SABR members. It is another benefit of membership – the opportunity to contribute to SABR publications. A typical SABR book is the collective work of 35 or more authors and editors. This book contains contributions by 68 SABR members.

As lead editor of this book, I feel I should “apologize” for one thing. My name shows up as author of an inordinate number of the biographies and other articles contained herein. Normally, SABR’s lead editor will try to limit any one member to no more than two or three contributions, in order to offer the opportunity to become involved to as many members as possible. In the case of the 2004 Red Sox, I had already written eight of the player biographies in the years before we decided to undertake a book on this team. That still left 53 other bios for others to write. There are 41 other SABR members who have contributed by writing a biography for this book.

Another SABR “team book” might have also included biographies of the broadcasters, team executives, and a ballpark bio as well. There were already so many bios of players, the manager, and the 10 coaches that it was decided not to add more – so that we could include a few other features as well, such as the 28 “memories” – appreciations of the 2004 season, and what the season meant to these many other SABR members. 

Winning the World Series for the first time in 86 years was something that resonated throughout New England and “Red Sox Nation” beyond, and tapped into the strong sentiments that many people have in often rooting for the underdog. Once the Red Sox had been eliminated in 2005 and the Chicago White Sox were in that year’s World Series, a healthy portion of Red Sox Nation started rooting for White Sox fans to enjoy what we just had – and their wait had been two years longer – 88 years. I think it’s safe to say that most Red Sox fans had always seen ourselves as kindred spirits with Chicago Cubs fans. They had an even longer wait – 108 years! – but in 2016 Cubs fans got to experience the thrill of the ultimate victory.

In terms of long waits, I hope readers will enjoy the story of Kathryn Gemme, who finally saw the Red Sox win it all when she herself was 109 years old.

I will indulge myself by adding one other thing here. Scouring some old emails, I found something I wrote before the 2004 season got underway. I emailed it to myself on March 23, 2004, at 10:44 P.M. Here is the email. (Yes, sometimes my emails to myself have footnotes.) 

How to Help the Red Sox Win the World Series

After 86 seasons without a World Championship, Red Sox fans are burdened with bitterness, cynicism, and curses. Maybe it’s time to try a different approach.

Last season, when several Red Sox players celebrated after clinching the American League “wild card,” a certain segment of Red Sox Nation came down on them. After the September 25 game, five players (Gabe Kapler, Derek Lowe, Lou Merloni, Kevin Millar, and Todd Walker) all jogged from the park down Yawkey Way to the Baseball Tavern on Boylston Street, wearing wild card T-shirts over their street clothes. At the Tavern, they were “high-fiving and embracing delighted patrons.” One of those patrons described them as “drenched in sweat, champagne and beer.”1 The Boston Globe ran a photo by Jim Davis showing Tim Wakefield spraying fans behind the dugout with champagne. An accompanying story said that principal owner John W. Henry poured some champagne for fans, and he and team chairman Tom Werner joined the fans in a toast.2

I’d been at the game with my young son and left right afterwards, so I missed all this. When I learned about the celebration, I wished I’d been there at the Baseball Tavern. I gave the players a lot of credit for actually mingling with real people and including them in their celebration.

The next day, though, the players were chastised for going “over the top” and there was a general feeling that they shouldn’t have celebrated so much when there were still more games that had to be won. And besides, it was said, this wasn’t the pennant; it was just the wild card. 

“For people to be concerned about how much people celebrate something is ridiculous,” said Kevin Millar to a Globe reporter. “This team had fought through 159 games to get to that point. You know what? I don’t think we celebrated enough.”

Millar went on to ask, “Who wrote the script for celebrations? What it is? Clinch wild card, no beers? Clinch Division Series, 4 to 9 beers? Clinch LCS, 6 to 9 beers? Win World Series? No limit? I never had more fun in my life, running down Yawkey Way in my spikes with Derek and Todd and heading into that tavern. … We were there ten minutes. I wish we could have stayed four hours.”3

Winning the wild card earned the Sox a slot in the Division Series. Only four teams reach that stage; the others are eliminated. Personally, my own reaction was that maybe if the players got in the habit of celebrating a little more, they’d find that they liked it and go for more. And, after all, if the last eight generations of Red Sox players had waited for the final celebration, they’d still be waiting.

It seemed that a good part of New England was down on the players for having too much fun, while we were all busy worrying that something was sure to go wrong soon and that we were all just waiting to find out what it was going to be this time. Well, we found that out in the ALCS. There was Pedro accepting congratulatory hugs in the Red Sox dugout after closing out the seventh – something that would never happen if he were still in the game. Oops, he soon got asked to put his game face back on and go pitch the eighth. 

At the same time the season was winding down, I was busy over at the Boston Public Library researching the 1904 season. Boston’s American League team had won the first World’s Championship in 1903 and they won the pennant again in 1904. In ’04, though, John McGraw and the New York Giants declined to meet the A.L. champs in a World Series so Boston retained their status as the undefeated “world beaters.”

The regular season ended on October 10 that year. Without an opportunity to play the National League pennant winner, a testimonial evening was planned for the players at the Boston Theatre on the afternoon of the 13th.  Mayor Collins attended, as did Governor Bates and, of course, many of the Royal Rooters, the Bosox Club of their day. 

The ballplayers were introduced one at a time, with Candy LaChance first up. “He was given three hearty cheers and it was several minutes before the noise subsided.” The champions, “dressed in the ordinary attire of mankind, blushed like schoolboys when presented to the audience.”4 Each player went home with $100.00. 

Sentiments expressed at the post-pennant banquet hosted by John I. Taylor indicated that the Boston ballplayers “were unanimously of the opinion that their best work was brought out by an intelligent and fair-minded baseball public and just treatment by the press.”5

If that’s what it takes, a fan might wonder a century later, is there any hope in Boston?  

Right after the post-celebration flap last September, Todd Walker muttered, “No matter what happens around here, somebody will have something negative to say.”6  Is that really the message we want to convey to Red Sox players? Don’t get too happy about winning?   

Some will remember Elizabeth “Lib” Dooley, for decades a Red Sox season ticket holder. She had name cards printed up, characterizing herself “a friend of the Red Sox.” I respected her greatly. She was very knowledgeable about the team, and aware of its weaknesses, but would not speak ill of the Sox. Maybe more of us should emulate her example. It’s fun to be cynical. We can share our wisdom with a snicker. We can cringe, anticipating the final fall. Maybe Lib Dooley was on to something, too.

Shall we try it? No more “Yankees Suck” chants when the Sox score five runs in the third inning of an early May game against Kansas City. Let’s become more “fair-minded” and even more intelligent a baseball public than we already are. If the press – or talk radio – start getting cynical on us, let’s sing the praises of our boys.

Rah rah, team!  Go team go!

We’ve tried dredging ponds for pianos Babe Ruth drowned. Paul Giorgio burned a Yankees cap in the thin air on Mt. Everest. Laurie Cabot has thrown her spells, and Father Guido Sarducci splashed something like holy water on the Fenway façade. We’ve tried just about everything else. What have we got to lose? Let’s try for just treatment by the press. And talk radio. Those players who celebrated had to feel deflated, to have fans come down on them for celebrating victory. Let’s shoot for something different. No more demoralization. Go team go! This could be The Year. 

Indeed, it was the year. And Red Sox fans have been fortunate in the years that followed 2004. It’s a feeling we hope that fans of other teams will enjoy from time to time as the years unfold.

Meanwhile, we hope all will find things to enjoy in this book celebrating the 2004 Red Sox team.

 

Notes

1 Bob Hohler, “That’s the ticket,” Boston Globe, September 26, 2003: E1, E6.

2 Gordon Edes, “Excitement overflowing in all corners,” Boston Globe, September 26, 2003: E1, E6.

3 Bob Ryan, “Martinez makes short work of Rays,” Boston Globe, September 27, 2003: E6.

4 Boston Record, October 14, 1904.  

5 Boston Journal, October 14, 1904. 

6 Ryan.