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.

On January 5, 1920, a day of infamy for Boston’s baseball fans, Babe Ruth signed with the New York Yankees for the money and then some (two years at $10,000 per year with bonuses of $10,000 a year and $5,000 for signing), and he wanted $20,000 from Harry Frazee for signing a contract with Miller Huggins which was to come from the Boston club.1 That is what we know about the history that would ultimately set into motion the seeds planted for a curse upon the Boston Red Sox. Seventy years would pass by before the curse was revealed as the cause of Boston’s baseballic misfortune. All the usual suspects, Harry Frazee, Jacob Ruppert – and even the Bambino, Babe Ruth himself – none would live long enough to see how 86 years of Red Sox World Series drought would end.

In the days following the 1920 announcement, Boston newspapers did their best to defuse anxiety over Babe Ruth’s exit from Boston. Arthur Duffey wrote: “Why all this hubbub over the sale of Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees? Is the price worth the candle? Boston baseball fans are a pretty sensible lot and why wouldn’t it be a good idea to reserve judgment over the Ruth sale for a while until things really have had time to shape themselves? This is not the first time that Boston fans have been thrown a bit into the air with the sale of one of their star players, but in any of the former cases, did it work to the disadvantage of the Boston Club? Of course, it is going to be tough to see the champion fence buster disport in another uniform next season, but after the first storm of criticism has blown away I wouldn’t be surprised that if the sale of Ruth to the New York Yankees would prove one of the best things that could happen [to] the Boston Red Sox.”2 

History tells a different tale about Babe Ruth and his celebrated baseball career in New York. When the Babe returned to Fenway Park in the 1920 season, the headline proclaimed: “Babe Ruth Is Here to Make Boston’s Holiday Complete.” Burt Whitman wrote, “He came into his own as a Red Sox and Hub fans always will keep their enthusiasm for him and his long-distance smashes.”3 No hard feelings, just “welcome back.”

As time went on, seasons came and went along with new hope that “this is the year!” The Red Sox counted up near-misses, miscalculations, optimistic predictions, and lost opportunities, and not even the greatest hitter who ever lived could singlehandedly rescue the entire franchise. The misfortune of the Red Sox inspired writers to compare the team in terms reminiscent of a Greek tragedy. In the  Saturday Evening Post in 1946, Boston Globe writer Harold Kaese asked a simple question that was year after year repeated: “What’s the Matter with the Red Sox?”4

In 1986, as Boston went down to defeat in the seventh game of the World Series at the hands of the New York Mets, New York Times writer George Vecsey blamed the Bambino in his column titled “Babe Ruth Curse Strikes Again.” He wrote: “All the ghosts and demons and curses of the past 68 years continued to haunt the Boston Red Sox last night.”5

In 1990 the cause of decades of Red Sox misfortune was settled. Simply stated, the sale of Babe Ruth to the Yankees was the punishment endured by Boston for that colossal, disastrous decision. The person who unveiled the news was Dan Shaughnessy of the Boston Globe, who said he was informed of this curse by a woman whose grandfather had proclaimed, “Boston will not win a World Series because Babe Ruth was sold to the Yankees. It’s the Curse of the Bambino.”6

Despite all their efforts, must the Boston Red Sox endure some sort of punishment for a ruthless mistake made in 1920? Red Sox fans immediately embraced The Curse that explained away decades of misfortune. Newspapers devoted lines, paragraphs, stories, and The Curse was celebrated in books, including children’s literature.7

With new ownership and management changes, the 2003 season instilled hope that the Red Sox’ fortunes might improve. The gut-wrenching loss to the Yankees in that year’s ALCS only confirmed the awful suspicion that the Red Sox were indeed cursed, and something must be done about it.

In 2004, as the Red Sox advanced up the American League East standings, whispers rose to shouts that this might be the year that The Curse would be broken. There were visitations to the Bambino’s gravesite where curse-breaking offerings were left. Signs appeared around New England – “Reverse the Curse!” – and as if fans could sing a curse away, songs rang out in Fenway Park – “Dirty Water” – and a twenty-first-century version of an old tune, “Tessie,” by the Dropkick Murphys debuted in June 2004. The original song had been adapted and sung by the Royal Rooters at the first World Series back in 1903 and some of the losing Pittsburgh Pirates said it had rattled them, perhaps causing them to lose the World Series.

Had the Boston Red Sox won the World Series in 2004 because they vanquished The Curse of the Bambino? Or did the Babe finally let it go, giving a tip of his hat to Boston after the thrilling ALCS series against New York? There is another possibility. After Boston’s victory in the 1918 World Series, there appeared a curious headline and story about the end of the final game: “Tessie! Where was the Old ‘Gal’ at Fenway?” wrote H.W. Lanigan in the Boston American. “Where was ‘Tessie?’ Forsooth, there wasn’t any music at all. President Frazee planned to have music, but so great was the demand for grandstand seats that he was forced to sell the space he had allotted for the band. Curses!”8

Ed Martin, baseball writer for the Boston Globe, wrote, “The crowd did not come up to expectations. While there was no material evidence of the presence of ‘Tessie,’ she must have been there in spirit. It is the first time that any Boston club has been in a series that “Tessie” has not been heard from good and proper.”9 Tragically, Martin died of influenza less than a month after writing the lament.

The Dropkick Murphys, the Celtic punk band from Quincy, Massachusetts, played the new-and-improved “Tessie” live at Fenway Park on July 24, 2004. That also happened to be the same day Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek and New York Yankees star Alex Rodriguez conducted a mitt-a-mano brawl. It was the same game where Bill Mueller hit a game-winning walk-off home run to spoil Mariano Rivera’s perfect save streak, as well. The ghost of Babe Ruth must have been impressed.

“To this day, the Red Sox have never won a World Series without ‘Tessie,’” said Dr. Charles Steinberg, once a Fenway Park man-of-all-jobs. “The Red Sox had it in their first five world championships from 1903 to 1918, and we brought it back in 2004. It’s been part of Fenway Park’s musical culture.”10

Was the curse about the Babe? Or had the curse been about Tessie all along? “Tessie” disappeared after 1918 and reappeared in 2004. In 2016 the Tessie mascot joined Wally, and they roam Fenway Park at game time, amusing the fans and perhaps serving another purpose. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” wrote William Congreve in The Mourning Bride, published in 1697. To be on the safe side, “Tessie” continues being seen at Fenway Park, just in case, and is heard throughout the park after every Red Sox win.

JOANNE HULBERT is a Boston Chapter member and SABR Baseball and the Arts Committee co-chair, who knows well that although baseball is designed to break your heart, there are moments of great joy that remind us all that waiting for next year will be worth it.

Notes

1 “Babe Ruth to Get $45,000.” Boston Post, January 7, 1920: 1.

2 Arthur Duffey, “Sports Comment.” Boston Post, January 7, 1920: 11.

3 Burt Whitman, “Babe Ruth Is Here to Make Boston’s Holiday Complete.” Boston Herald, April 19, 1920: 7.

4 Dan Shaughnessy, At Fenway (New York: Crown. 1996), 94. Al Hirshberg wrote a book by that title: What’s the Matter with the Red Sox? (New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1973). 

5 George Vecsey, “Babe Ruth Curse Strikes Again.” New York Times, October 28, 1986.

6 Shaughnessy, 94.

7 For instance, see Dan Shaughnessy and C.F. Payne, The Legend of the Curse of the Bambino (New York: Simon & Schuster/Paula Wiseman Books, 2005).

8 Ty Waterman and Mel Springer, The Year the Red Sox Won the World Series (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1999), 244.

9 Edward F. Martin, “Wonderful Support When Babe Wobbles.” Boston Globe, September 10, 1918: 6.

10 “‘Tessie’ and the Dropkick Murphys, a Red Sox History,” www.oursportscentral.com, December 21, 2022. https://www.oursportscentral.com/services/releases/tessie-and-the-dropkick-murphys-a-red-sox-history/n-5908671.

That was when Boston suffered another in four-score and five years of excruciating defeats, a 6-5 loss to the Yankees on Aaron Boone’s game-ending and series-ending – Game Seven at that – home run in the American League Championship Series.

In our business, news is like cash. There is no such thing as too much. This time there was, though, considering how much happened in such a short span and past deadline for that matter. For some of us, what happened after Boone’s home run was more important than what happened before, an event that spoke to a future none of us could envision.

There were two elevators from the press box to the basement in the old Yankee Stadium. One was for VIPs and if some unfortunate and unaware person blundered into it by mistake, something bad happened. We didn’t know what, since nobody ever came back.

Our elevator was small and slow. On this night we had to wait in line as shift after shift of writers was ferried to the respective clubhouses. About 25 of us were in the third wave, crammed in and barely able to inhale – all things considered, a blessing – when the door finally began to close.

Suddenly an arm came through the door from out of the waiting area. A heavyset figure backed into the elevator to the groans of its occupants, squeezing things even more uncomfortably. From the hairstyle it was easy to see who it was – Donald Trump.

Rather than wait for the VIP elevator, he encroached on ours. With him in there, the door wouldn’t close no matter how often the elevator operator tried and that must have been five, maybe six times. We were overweight, too, and the alarm started going off.

Meanwhile, the interviews of players and managers were beginning in the question-and-answer room. We were all missing some of it, probably the most important parts. Still the elevator stayed at the top of Yankee Stadium, alarms ringing, the door opening and closing futilely.

Eventually the operator said, “If this elevator is gonna move, somebody’s gotta get off.”

Somebody did – a baseball writer, maybe two – but not Trump. He just didn’t care about anyone else, care about how his actions might affect a bigger picture than his own personal one.

Some things never change.

When everyone finally reached the interview room, manager Grady Little was about to leave. We had no idea at that time that it was his last press conference as Red Sox manager. Little was fired before the month was over, then replaced by Terry Francona.

At the time, it seemed like just another nonsensical Boston managerial move. Like Joe Kerrigan replacing Jimy Williams, Butch Hobson replacing Joe Morgan, Mike Higgins replacing Billy Jurges, who had previously replaced Higgins.

Little had been good to deal with and hardly anybody was happy to see him go. If he had been a radio station, his format was Soft Rock. Little had tried cotton farming in between two stints with pro baseball, and baseball turned out to be better even if you could get fired.

Francona was coming off a disastrous four years managing the Phillies.

He was, it turned out, the perfect pick. Francona was a study in contrasts. He was approachable, but mercurial. It was easy to get a rise out of him, but he would eventually calm down and sue for peace. Most big-league managers hate being called “coach.” With Francona, that sin bordered on mortal.

There was a radio lightweight in Chicago who invariably referred to him as “Coach Tony Francona,” not even getting the first name right, and Francona could barely restrain himself from coming across his desk and throttling the dweeb.

In group settings Francona was careful to the point of boring. With reporters he knew and trusted, he was available, candid, and insightful.

One of the first things he said after taking over the team was prophetic, although nobody knew it at the time. “I will never,” he said, “tell one of my players – ‘Back when I was a player, we did it this way.’”

Little known fact at the time – Francona hated to drive. He was the guy going 50 on the Mass Pike, although always in the slow lane. Francona was not rude, just cautious. His years in Philadelphia were mostly miserable and he told us that after he was fired – he deserved to be fired, he said – he did not think he ever wanted to manage again. His attitude changed, as did the fortunes of the Red Sox.

The 2004 Sox were a fairly easy team to cover. They were good, which makes everybody happier and more approachable. General manager Theo Epstein was also cautious in public but candid with trusted reporters, a good source for on-the-record contributions and valuable background.

The new owners were approachable, too, especially Larry Lucchino. He enjoyed the give-and-take with reporters more than John Henry but Henry would talk to us, albeit softly. He could be candid, too, if caught at the right time and place.

One of those times and places was October 26 at Busch Stadium in St. Louis, where the Red Sox had a two-games-to-none lead in the World Series. Henry was in the Boston dugout before the game doing some baseball chit-chatting when Associated Press reporter Jimmy Golen asked him, out of the blue, “Are you a billionaire?”

Henry shook his head and grimaced a bit, answering, “Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” At least he answered.

Boston had several players who enjoyed talking to the news media. That had not always been the case in years past. In fact, it was rarely the case. The ’04 Sox, though, had Kevin Millar, Johnny Damon, Derek Lowe, and Bronson Arroyo. David Ortiz was in the early stages of his Hall of Fame career and was approachable. Trot Nixon was a serious interviewee, thoughtful and candid even if he ruffled feathers along the way. Jason Varitek was professional, approachable, and available – but essentially colorless.

Then there were Curt Schilling and Nomar Garciaparra.

In 2004 Schilling was standing at the edge of reason but had not yet gone over it. All we needed to know about him happened on the first day of spring training when Red Sox public relations scheduled, at Schilling’s request, a group interview at 12:15 at the minor-league complex in Fort Myers.

We waited and waited and waited for Schilling to show up. He finally did at 3 P.M. and that was  just the way it was going to be with him. Schilling’s nickname throughout baseball, by the way, was “Table for One.”

Garciaparra became difficult as his years in Boston accumulated. It got to the point where he had the team create a red line in the carpet of the clubhouse floor, in front of the lockers. Reporters were not supposed to venture beyond it in visiting with players. According to the Major League Baseball rules governing access, the red line was absolutely unenforceable and Boston was the only clubhouse with one. Still, the message was clear: Keep Out.

As often happens where there is a new manager, the team got off to a very strong start. Boston was 31-19 after 50 games and was in first place by a half-game on the morning of May 31.

Then the Sox slipped into mediocrity. They were 24-26 in their next 50 games, the end of that stretch coinciding with the trade deadline of July 31. By that time, Garciaparra’s misery was palpable and destructive. Finally, right at the last hour of the deadline, Epstein dealt him to the Cubs as part of a complex four-team trade. 

The Red Sox were in Minneapolis at the time, the Twins still in the dreary Metrodome. Reporters had had a very long wait in its sterile tunnels before Garciaparra finally emerged from the Boston clubhouse. He stopped to talk about the deal, then tried to go out on a high note. He shook hands with everyone in the media contingent encircling him, then kept going for another round.

The All-Star shortstop realized what was happening, stopped, and said sheepishly, “I wanted to thank every one of you, and some people more than once.”

The deal brought shortstop Orlando Cabrera and first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz to Boston but was not an immediate season-changer. The Sox went 4-4 in their first eight games after it, but then began to put things together. Starting with August 16, Boston went 22-3 in its next 25 games, reestablishing itself as one of the best teams in baseball.

The Sox clinched a playoff berth on September 27 in Tampa Bay. The next day Damon was asked to compare the 2004 team with the previous season’s. The ’04 clinching celebration was much subdued than the one in ’03. The reason, Damon said, “We’re a bunch of idiots, but we’re grownup idiots now.”

The playoffs started on October 5 in Anaheim. The day before was a workout day, an easy one for reporters. I got to the ballpark early. Anaheim Stadium was surrounded by acres of parking lots. They were empty that afternoon save for a solitary human orbiting the fringes of the ballpark.

Upon closer inspection it turned out to be Manny Ramírez.

“Hey, man,” was his standard greeting and that’s how he called out to me. “How do you get into this place?” I told him I was not sure either, but follow me and we’ll find a way in, which we did. I always wondered whether if I had not happened upon Manny in the parking lot he would have wound up at Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm and missed the Division Series.

Boston swept that series, setting up a rematch with the Yankees in another ALCS. We know how that turned out. I was very friendly with two former Red Sox players wearing Yankees uniforms, catcher John Flaherty and reliever Paul Quantrill, and talked with them whenever possible. Clubhouse access is limited during the postseason, though, so the conversations were relatively short.

They did give me a sense of what was going on with the Yankees, though. After their overwhelming Game Three victory at Fenway Park, the team was in a bubble of invincibility. Even after Ortiz’s dramatic home run to win Game Four – I had mixed feelings about it because Quantrill, one of the most standup guys ever to wear a Boston uniform – was the New York pitcher.

After the Sox won Game Five, though, the Yankees’ team demeanor changed a bit. They sensed that they had a real chance to be the first team in baseball history to lose a series after leading three games to none.

Which is exactly what happened.

Game Seven at Yankee Stadium ended on Ruben Sierra’s groundball to second baseman Pokey Reese with Alan Embree on the mound. This time there was no Donald Trump to deal with, only champagne. That was easy. In the press box postgame, it was apparent that there were still a lot of Red Sox fans in the ballpark, some still cheering, most just taking it all in.

The Yankees essentially let them stay for as long as they wanted, a very classy act.

The World Series was not anticlimactic, but it was the hot fudge on the coffee ice cream of 2004. Game Four was on October 27, a damp night in St. Louis. Busch Stadium was on its way to abandonment and the press box roof leaked, forcing us writers to find a dry spot wherever we could.

The bottom of the ninth arrived with Boston leading, 3-0. It had an eerie feel to it. We understood that this Red Sox team was a different creature from previous ones and would likely be celebrating a World Series title in a matter of minutes. Still, there had been 1946, ’67, ’75, ’86, 2003, and etc.

My wife, Debbie, was in town with me but not at the game. She was watching it from our hotel bar, cheering for the Sox as the game progressed. When the ninth inning finally arrived, a Cardinals fan sitting with her asked, “Why aren’t you celebrating?”

Debbie responded, “You don’t know much about the Red Sox, do you?”

When Edgar Renteria came up, I called my wife. If she could not be at the ballpark to see the Red Sox win the World Series, she could at least hear the moment.

The first thing I said was, “I wanted you to be able to hear.…” and at that moment, Edgar Renteria bounced a groundball to Keith Foulke. There was a brief moment of suspended animation, then it was official.

“My God,” I said, “the Red Sox just won the World Series. I have to write.”

Before I headed to the clubhouses, I called my daughter – Abigail Brinkman – in Chicago. Her husband, Charles, had grown up a White Sox fan and actually worked as an usher at the original Comiskey Park. The White Sox had not won a World Series since 1906. Between husband and wife there were 184 seasons of baseball misery watching the TV.

Abby was literally delirious. She was making noise but none of it made sense, so I finally just said goodbye. Who would ever have imagined that one year later the White Sox would end their World Series drought? What were the odds of that? But aren’t things like that the reason baseball is the world’s most compelling game?

At the time, almost all of us in the press box were glad the drought was over. It had become tiresome answering the same old questions every year. None of us, though, had any inkling this would be merely the first of four such championships in 15 years.

Would the next three have happened without 2004? Probably, but we all knew that from there on out, covering the Red Sox would never be the same.

BILL BALLOU has been a SABR member since Cliff Kachline had his office in Cooperstown, and returns there as often as possible even if SABR has moved. A lifelong resident of Whitinsvillle, Massachusetts, he saw his first Red Sox game in 1959 and later covered the team for the Worcester Telegram from 1987 through 2018. He covered every game of Boston’s playoff run in 2004 (but still considers the Impossible Dream Red Sox of 1967 to be the most exciting team in franchise history). A member of the Boston Chapter, BaseBall Writers Assn. of America, Ballou has been a Hall of Fame voter since 1998.

David Ortiz holds the 2004 World Series trophy during the victory parade in Boston. (Courtesy of Bill Nowlin)

It’s not unusual for a championship team to show off some hard-won hardware. The Stanley Cup of the National Hockey League famously travels from player to player in the offseason, making public appearances along the way. Championship trophies often make the rounds of the local statehouse or city hall, and may even be displayed in a victory parade.

That the 2004 World Series trophy would tour at least some places was a given, but Red Sox team President Larry Lucchino had prior experience in the power of a trophy to capture hearts and minds. He had overseen the tour of the National League trophy around San Diego after the Padres’ pennant win in 1998. Until 2017, the National League’s Warren C. Giles Trophy was passed from one winning team to the next like the Stanley Cup. At the time the Padres were politicking for a new ballpark, and Lucchino saw firsthand the impact of letting people actually touch the hallowed object. The stadium referendum passed and a seed was planted in Lucchino’s mind.1

An epic, historic championship run – like the one had by the Red Sox in 2004 – required an epic, historic trophy tour. The pledge to take the trophy to all 351 cities and towns in the commonwealth of Massachusetts was announced by Lucchino – in what he later termed a fit of “irrational exuberance”2 – after the trophy had already made many appearances, including onstage at a Tim McGraw concert in Connecticut, and even a stop in the Dominican Republic for a “social visit”3 with star pitcher Pedro Martínez (who was then about to begin contract negotiations with the team) and at the new Red Sox baseball academy in El Toro. The trophy made trips to Atlanta, to the headquarters of Red Sox sponsors Delta and Coca-Cola, and to some outposts of Red Sox Nation in other parts of the country, like Fat Face Fenner’s Fishack in Hermosa Beach, California.4 But as the anecdotes continued to roll in from every appearance about staunch New Englanders who had waited their whole lives for a championship breaking down in tears upon seeing – and sometimes hugging – the trophy, it seemed only fair to give as many of them as possible a chance to see it in person. Thus, the “Mass 351” challenge was on.

Red Sox front-office employee Colin Burch was given the task of booking the logistics of the tour, and it quickly became clear that he was going to need to schedule stops every day, often as many as six in a day, if the Red Sox didn’t want the tour to take another 86 years. The tour was also going to need financial support to cover the cost of transporting the trophy and accompanying personnel. The Mass State Lottery was brought on as tour sponsor, reportedly pledging $250,000 toward transportation, publicity, and security.5 “Like the Red Sox, the Massachusetts State Lottery is synonymous with success,” read the announcement from Massachusetts State Treasurer Tim Cahill about the lottery partnership. “We have one of the most successful lotteries in the country, and … [t]he more successful the Lottery, the more money that can be returned to cities and towns across Massachusetts. We feel it makes perfect sense for us to hit the road with the Red Sox as they begin their World Series Trophy Tour across the state.”

Cahill’s measured announcement belied his personal excitement. “In the two years I’ve been treasurer, there’s been a lot of exciting things,” he told the Associated Press. “[B]but I haven’t been nervous except in the presence of this trophy.”6

The Commissioner’s Trophy itself carried a $15,000 price tag at the time, but of course the significance is priceless.7 Each year, Tiffany & Co. makes a new trophy from sterling silver, which stands about 2½ feet high, and reportedly weighs 30 to 35 pounds.8 For the tour, a rolling road case that looked as if it belonged with Aerosmith was custom-built for the hardware, which traveled to many tour stops in a dedicated vehicle. Fully decked out with the Red Sox and Mass Lottery logos and emblazoned with the words “World Championship Trophy Tour,” the snazzy sport utility vehicle was a Volvo – a Red Sox sponsor.9

The trophy also traveled by plane, ferry, helicopter, and train. “At one point we took it to New York City,” longtime Red Sox front-office official Dr. Charles Steinberg gleefully recounted, “to a Red Sox bar down there called ‘The Riv,’ and we took it by Amtrak. We put the trophy into the luggage area at the back of the car and the case took up basically the whole area. A conductor came along and barked, ‘You can’t put that thing here!’ But then [he] recognized us and all of a sudden he goes, ‘Is that what I think it is? Can I see it?’”10 The conductor soon had a photo with the trophy, as did everyone else on that train.

The trophy traveled with people who were dubbed “Fenway Ambassadors, ‘who were very occasionally Red Sox players, leading to incidents such as the time when Johnny Damon handed the trophy to a group of fans to pass around at a Patriots football game, resulting in two of the flagpoles being damaged.11 Former Red Sox such as Jerry Remy, Luis Tiant, and others also made some appearances.12 But the trophy itself, not players, was the draw. “It’s a very visible representation of the fact that we won the Series, that’s why,” Red Sox vice president Chuck Steedman told the Globe. “[O]ur players have come and gone over the years. This is the commissioner’s trophy. It’s here for keeps.”13

The trophy’s usual travel companions were Burch, Steedman, and a security guard or two, sometimes including Remy’s son Jared.14 As the Globe reported, “Steedman kept it at his house one night and recalled, ‘My wife slept on the couch and I had the trophy.’”15

Another frequent member of the entourage was Joe McDermott, a supervisor of Red Sox security. “At that point, the trophy was like seeing God. It was something they never thought they would see in their lifetimes,” he said. “Every place we visited, we’d be seeing more than a thousand people in the course of a couple of hours. And a large number of them had pictures of loved ones who had died and had never seen it.”16 One of the oldsters who had her chance to touch the trophy was Rose Bolger, 100, who was honored alongside the trophy in Fall River, Massachusetts, with five generations of her family in attendance.17

By December 4, 2004, the day of a victory rally in Fort Myers, the Red Sox longtime spring-training home, the trophy had already made over 100 stops with “about 400 more scheduled.”18 While getting to all 351 towns in Massachusetts was a priority, many sites throughout the other five New England states also petitioned for a visit. A minority owner of the Red Sox, Les Otten, arranged for the trophy to stop in Maine at his Phoenix House and Well restaurant, near the Sunday River ski resort. “The place was so packed,” the Globe reported Otten as saying, “they had to pass the trophy in through a window.”19

Of course, with so much handling, there were many opportunities for damage. As when a flying full beer can struck it during the “Rolling Rally” victory parade, the damaged trophy had to be sent back to its maker – in New York City – for refurbishment and repair.20 In a post on the Boston Dirt Dogs website in 2004, a Tiffany’s employee wrote to lay to rest the idea that there must have been multiple copies of the trophy making the rounds in order to get to all 351 stops. The trophy was singular, he attested, adding, “We are a New York based company filled with Yankee fans. So it must have killed the guys who worked on it that the Sox won.”21

By January the trophy had gained a sidekick: the ball from the final out of the 2004 World Series. After making the putout, first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz had held onto the ball and asserted ownership, a claim the Sox disputed. Both parties agreed to set aside the question of ownership to let the ball join the festivities.22

Some school districts bused their students to see the trophy, and many local politicians took the opportunity to do some glad-handing as well. As representative Daniel E. Bosley (D-North Adams) said when he accompanied the tour around North County in the farthest western reaches of Massachusetts, “People here identify so much with this team, and the Red Sox haven’t forgotten us. They’ve let it be known it isn’t just their trophy – it belongs to everyone.”23

The tour included stops in towns like Aquinnah (population 439), Nahant, Phillipston, Petersham, and Mattapoisett.24 Schools, senior centers, town halls, public libraries, and hospitals were frequent destinations, as well as college campuses, like a February 2005 visit to a college basketball game at UMass Amherst on February 23, 2005. “As part of the celebration, all fans are encouraged to wear Red Sox apparel,” read the announcement from UMass Athletics. “One lucky fan wearing Red Sox gear will be selected randomly to have their photo taken with the World Series Trophy at halftime.”25 The town of Holliston – the site of the Mudville neighborhood that some believe inspired the poem “Casey at the Bat” – hoped to have the trophy visit for the inauguration of its newly lighted baseball fields, but had to settle for the local high school since the lights wouldn’t be installed until after the tour’s end.26 At the time of the Holliston event, 329 out of 351 towns had been visited, not counting additional stops outside New England, like the Pentagon and Walter Reed Medical Center.27

The tour’s final stop came midway through the 2005 season, on June 25, in the tiny town of Gosnold, with its numerologically resonant 86 residents. Gosnold comprises nine small islands southwest of Falmouth on Cape Cod, with the tour touching down on Cuttyhunk Island, described by the Globe as “a breezy island where the innkeeper is also the police chief, and [which] boasts a healthy population of deer, coyote, and rabbit, but if you want a gin and tonic, you better bring your own, and if you want pizza, you best know which unmarked, weathered cottage sells slices out of the basement.”28 The trophy traveled there by helicopter with Larry Lucchino handling the hardware himself. When asked before takeoff to comment on the trophy tour, he quipped, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”29

Gosnold might have been the official last stop of the Mass 351, but it was far from the final appearance for the 2004 trophy. With three more trophies since added to the collection – in 2007, 2013, and 2018 – all four continue to make public appearances, and Colin Burch, the Red Sox vice president of marketing and broadcasting, is still involved with arranging their appearances. “Any time we win, we want to celebrate with as many fans as possible,” Burch told the Improper Bostonian. “In 2004, when we went around, I’m not sure there was a dry eye. And you still see a similar joy in 2007, 2013, and 2018. There’s an intergenerational aspect to baseball, and I think that spirit lives among the four trophies in a unique way.”30

CECILIA M. TAN has been writing about baseball since her fifth-grade book report on The Reggie Jackson Story. She has written for Baseball Prospectus, Yankees Magazine, Gotham Baseball, and The National Pastime. She became publications director for SABR in 2011, and has edited the Baseball Research Journal ever since. She also played women’s baseball from 2000 to 2007, mostly with the Pawtucket Slaterettes.

Notes

1 Personal interview, Dr. Charles Steinberg, September 4, 2023, via Zoom.

2 Karen Testa, “Sox Trophy to Tour,” Associated Press/South Coast Today, January 4, 2005. This story appeared on Page C1 of the New Bedford Standard-Times on January 5, 2005.

3 Joseph P. Kahn, “Circling the Bases: World Series Trophy Goes on Odyssey to Touch ’Em All in Red Sox Nation,” Boston Globe, December 9, 2004. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/circling-bases-world-series-trophy-goes-on/docview/404930985/se-2.

4 Kahn, “Circling the Bases.”

5 “Red Sox, Massachusetts Lottery Join Forces in ‘Trophy Tour,’” Boston Business Journal, January 4, 2005. https://www.bizjournals.com/boston/stories/2005/01/03/daily22.html.

6 Testa, “Sox Trophy to Tour.”

7 “Red Sox World Series Trophy Tour,” June 27, 2005. https://bostonspastime.com/trophy.html.

8 Meredith Goldstein, “Weight? 35 lbs. Value? $15,000. Peek? Priceless,” Boston Globe, January 30, 2005. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/weight-35-lbs-value-15-000-peek-priceless/docview/404936056/se-2.

9 “Volvo Signs Red Sox Sponsorship Deal,” Boston Business Journal, July 11, 2002. https://www.bizjournals.com/boston/stories/2002/07/08/daily32.html.

10 Personal interview, Dr. Charles Steinberg, September 4, 2023, via Zoom.

11 Dan Shaughnessy, “On This Night, the Star,” Boston Globe, January 14, 2005. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/on-this-night-star/docview/404940821/se-2.

12 Glenn Drohan, “Thousands Throng Red Sox Trophy Tour,” iBerkshires.com, February 2, 2005. https://www.iberkshires.com/story/16685/Thousands-throng-Red-Sox-trophy-tour.html.

13 Kahn, “Circling the Bases.”

14 Jared Remy, son of beloved Sox icon Jerry Remy, was ordered by a lenient judge to seek gainful employment after a domestic violence arrest, and had taken a position with the Red Sox in 2004. Eric Hoskowitz, “For Jared Remy, Leniency Was the Rule Until One Lethal Night,” Boston Globe, March 23, 2014.

15 Dan Shaughnessy, “On This Night, the Star.” 

16 Matt Martinelli, “Trophy Life: An Inside Look at the Red Sox Trophy Tour,” The Improper Bostonian, March 22, 2019. https://www.improper.com/life-style/trophy-life/.

17 Beth Krudys, “The World Series Trophy Tour: Well Worth the Wait,” Red Sox Magazine: First Edition 2005: 63.

18 Patrick Whittle, “Victory Tour Hits Florida,” Boston Globe, December 7, 2004. E7. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/victory-tour-hits-florida/docview/404931472/se-2.

19 Marty Basch, “Snowmaking Heats Up; Mother Nature Adds Her 2 Cents,” Boston Globe, December 23, 2004. Accessed August 25, 2023: https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/snowmaking-heats-up-mother-nature-adds-her-2/docview/404937235/se-2.

20 “A beer can thrown by excited Red Sox fans during the team’s World Series celebration in Boston slammed into some of the flags on the World Series trophy.” The report states that it is a “tradition” in Boston to throw full cans of beer to the players in the parade, but that this practice is dangerous to players as well as the trophy. “Red Sox Fans Damage World Series Trophy,” ABC News/Good Morning America, November 1, 2018. https://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Culture/.

21 Kahn, “Circling the Bases.”

22 Gordon Edes, “Ball Will Make Rounds; Mientkiewicz, Sox Come to Agreement,” Boston Globe, January 29, 2005.

23 Drohan, “Thousands Throng Red Sox Trophy Tour.”

24 Tom Trainque, “Red Sox Trophy Comes to Narragansett,” Gardner (Massachusetts) News, January 18, 2005. https://www.thegardnernews.com/story/news/2005/01/19/red-sox-trophy-comes-to/11282958007/; Beth David, “Red Sox Trophy Will Visit Thursday,” New Bedford Standard-Times, May 2, 2005: A9.  https://www.southcoasttoday.com/story/news/2005/05/02/red-sox-trophy-will-visit/50345894007/; “Red Sox Nation Alert: World Series Trophy Pays Visit,” Vineyard Gazette, June 9, 2005. https://vineyardgazette.com/news/2005/06/10/red-sox-nation-alert-world-series-trophy-pays-visit.

25 “RED SOX APPRECIATION DAY: Come Out to See the World Series Trophy on Feb. 23 at Mullins,” February 10, 2005, UMassAthletics.com. https://umassathletics.com/news/2005/2/10/RED_SOX_APPRECIATION_DAY_Come_Out_To_See_The_World_Series_Trophy_On_Feb_23_At_Mullins.

26 Emily Shartin, “Tour Nearing End,” Boston Globe, June 5, 2005. Accessed October 14, 2023: https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/tiffanys-tribute-red-sox-nearing-end-road-trip/docview/404957159/se-2?accountid=9675.

27 “Red Sox World Series Trophy Visits Pentagon,” Defense Visual Information Distribution Service, DVIDSHub.net, January 6, 2005. https://www.dvidshub.net/image/2969/red-sox-world-series-trophy-visits-pentagon.

28 Jackie MacMullan, “Guest Took Years to Arrive/Guest Makes Trip,” Boston Globe, June 25, 2005. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/guest-took-years-arrive-makes-trip/docview/404962491/se-2.

29 MacMullan, “Guest Took Years to Arrive.”

30 Martinelli, “Trophy Life.”

The Collins gravestone at the Brewster Cemetery in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. (Courtesy of Cynthia Doutrich)

Christopher Collins was a lifelong Red Sox who died of cancer in 1995 at just 41 years old. As the Cape Cod Times told it, “Weeks before succumbing to the disease, Collins insisted his family etch the phrase ‘Never lived long enough to see the Red Sox win it all!’ into his headstone.”1

Collins had been a police officer in Harwich, and a Little League coach.

His son, Chris Jr., visited his grave at the Brewster cemetery on Cape Cod just hours after the 2004 Red Sox finally won it all. Chris Jr. was 23 at the time. He said, “He had such a great spirit. He wanted to put something on his tombstone that would make people chuckle a bit as they walked by.”

He told the reporter of the 2004 graveside visit: “I was like a little boy who rushes to show his parents what Santa brought for Christmas. To be able to share this incredible win with him was one of the best experiences of my life.” In a whisper, he told his dad, “They finally did it.”

Collins’s wife, Jane, had visited the grave a week earlier, after the Red Sox beat the Yankees in the League Championship Series. She and the family had decorated the grave with “Red Sox balloons, banners, a Sox cap and a miniature scarecrow doll with a Red Sox batting helmet.”

She said, “I wish he was still here to enjoy this great moment with all of us, especially his kids whom he loved very much. But I know he’s partying with Babe Ruth now and smiling.”

Acknowledgments

Thanks to SABR member Paul Doutrich and his wife, Cynthia Doutrich, who took the photograph in June 2023. 

Notes

1 Jason Kolnos, “Departed Sox Fans Can Rest in Peace,” Cape Cod Times (Hyannis, Massachusetts), October 30, 2004. Updated January 6, 2011. https://www.capecodtimes.com/story/news/2004/10/30/departed-sox-fans-can-rest/50927108007/. Accessed June 14, 2023. All quotations come from this article.

Red Sox fans are renowned for their loyalty and longevity (as in “long-suffering Red Sox fan”). While it’s a commonplace to cite the number of years since the Sox last won a World Series, and the “19-18” taunt is often heard during Boston visits to Yankee Stadium, there really aren’t that many people still living who recall that 1918 World Series. What about someone who recalls the 1903 World Series — the first World Series ever held?

Kathryn Gemme turned 108 years old in November 2002. She was born on November 9, 1894 and was almost nine years old when Jimmy Collins, Cy Young, Bill Dinneen and others won the 1903 World Series for Boston. And in 2003, she is more of a Red Sox rooter than ever before, a knowledgeable and dedicated fan who loves to put her Sox on.

Mid-season 2002, Ms. Gemme entered the Atrium Nursing Center in Middleboro, Massachusetts and soon encountered Sharon Gosling, the center’s activities director who claims for herself the title of the “second biggest Red Sox fan” in the facility.

Kathryn has a Red Sox beanie baby that she holds while watching games. Registered nurse Jan Risgin says of Kathryn, “She pops popcorn and watches the game. She watched that game last night [August 27] and was spitting nails,” Risgin said [referring to a 6-0 shutout at the hands of the New York Yankees]. “She’s always talking about Braves Field. She saw Lou Gehrig play and thought he was amazing. Babe Ruth, she saw him play…but then he went to that team.”

That team. She’s no Yankees fan. Don’t get her started. “The Yankees, they were always our enemy. I hate them. You know who I was glad to see out of the Yankees? Paul O’Neill. He was crabby. And that Clemens. I wish they’d string him up. The way he holds that ball and looks at it. What does he think he’s seeing?”

“Kate” Gemme is a diehard Sox fan — and not ready to expire just yet. Once the Sox were eliminated in 2002, she said, “I must just be waiting for them to win another one.” She’s healthy — the only medicine she takes, reports nurse Risgin, are “baby aspirin and a vitamin.”

She’s followed baseball for years and years. And years. If there’s a game on, it’s a priority. “Something gets ahold of you. The radio, the announcing…you could picture yourself at the game. Even when I was at home in my 80s, if people came calling, I’d have to tell them, ‘There’s a game on, you know.’ I’d be listening to the game, not listening to what they were saying.”

She has her favorite Red Sox players these days and she shows a real understanding of the game. Two favorites of today are Nomar Garciaparra and Jason Varitek. Of Nomar, she says “Nomar — that’s MY exercise! Heel and toe. Heel to toe! Nomar. We have accepted Nomar. He is everybody’s favorite, he’s a natural at what he does, he doesn’t thump his chest, and he makes watching baseball thrilling.”

Catchers have always fascinated her. Sharon Gosling explains that Kathryn admires them for the role they play in the game, “calling the throws, the continuous movement, well, just the responsibility in general. She admires Jason Varitek for his confidence, the way he portrays himself, his positive attitude, and the fact he is always ready.” Sharon and Kathryn share a private joke about Varitek and the way he squats behind the plate, a bit of private humor shared between two women. “Varitek. I just like him,” Kathryn says. “When he squats. He seems so confident. I like the way he calls the pitches. They don’t shake him off very often.”

That’s perceptive, and accurate. Pitchers rarely do shake off Jason Varitek. She’s observant about other matters, too. “Did you notice what Daubach does before he hits? Takes his hat off and rubs his head three times.” This is a woman who’s tuned in to the Red Sox.

How long has she been a Red Sox fan? At first, she followed the Boston Braves. “Since I knew anything about baseball, I’ve followed it. Since I was 14 years old. It was the Braves, the Braves. I was born in Chicopee Falls, my home town. I went to school with Rabbit Maranville. He went to Springfield High School and I was in Chicopee just on the border. We got to know each other. He was a cute little guy. And he had that vest pocket catch!

“Back then, baseball was just a game to me. Hitting the ball and running. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized why they would pass anybody [give an intentional walk]. I used say to myself, ‘The damn fool put him on base for nothing.’”

Kathryn does recall the first World Series, though only dimly. “Rah-rah-rah. I knew about it. When you’re nine years old…until I was 14, you don’t pay attention.” She has similarly vague memories of the Red Sox triumphs in 1912, 1915 & 1916 — and if she’s right about being 18 at the time, she attended her first game the year after Fenway Park opened. “We were young kids. 18 years old. We went on a trolley car. I just know they won a lot of them — but they haven’t won for a long time. In 1918, I was 23 and I was raising my children, but I listened to the game on the radio when my husband tuned in. I never forgot the Red Sox. We saw Babe Ruth play. He was a pitcher. I remember him in knickers, and the little steps running to first base. It’s a vivid memory. If Babe Ruth was alive today, he’d be my age.

“My mother was just a plain ordinary woman. She died very young at age 39. My dad was a mechanic. He was a Stevens-Duryea mechanic, the automobile. No college graduate, but he had a lot of logic. That’s my father. My dad got remarried again, which was a no-no then. There were only two children, myself and my sister.

“My husband was a machinist. Ovella Gemme. During the war, he made guns. Stocks. In Springfield. He had to stay home. We had the two children. Stevens Arms and Tools. Gemme — French. Mine was a French name, too — Moreau, although my mother was Irish.

“I was just plain common Lizzie. I’ll tell you, though, I did my share during the war. I helped to assemble parachutes. World War II. They didn’t have parachutes in the first World War. They wanted married women to work. You know how big a parachute is. We had to string them and be sure they were strung right, because if they weren’t perfect, they wouldn’t open. The only time I ever left the house was during the war, to do those parachutes at the Shawmut Woolen Mills.”

Though more interested in the Braves than the Red Sox, Kathryn switched loyalties about five years before the Braves left town. Those were some great Red Sox years, starting in 1946, but it was a catcher who caught her eye. “I’ve been interested in the Red Sox since Birdie Tebbetts.”

Today, baseball plays an important role in Kathryn’s life. “I watch as often as I can. I would say every game. I’ve lost some of my eyesight — the corners are cut off — but I still watch every game. Sometimes I can lose track of the ball, lose the flight of the ball, but my eyes are glued to it. I love baseball.”

Her family pays for NESN so she needn’t miss a single game. At the nursing home, she’ll follow every play — though she has to be respectful of her roommate. “But when she’s out, I turn it up.” What about those late night West Coast road trip games that don’t even start until after 10 PM Boston time? “I don’t take a nap, but I stay with it. I wait till it’s over.”

Baseball has taken on more significance since she turned 100. “The last 8 years, I can’t read. Baseball always thrilled me. Now it’s the only pleasure I have. It’s what I like to do. I don’t care if other people like it or not. I love it. When I was growing up, I didn’t realize [all the strategy]. I just knew I always liked it. I liked the Red Sox. I went to games way back when I didn’t know my ear from my elbow. I won’t live long enough to learn all there is to know about baseball!”

What about off days during the season? “No game tonight? I’ll watch a ball game, though. The National League. Once in a while, I’ll watch Maddux pitch. I’ll watch something. As long as there’s action. I’m ashamed to say, but I like boxing, too.”

Does Kathryn have other interests besides sports? “To tell you the truth, there not much. I had to leave the organ. My son-in-law gave me an organ. I played the organ until about 6 months ago. I’m stuck here. The Red Sox are my Godsend.”

Some capsule comments from Kate:

Ted Williams: Ted Williams? That’s a foregone conclusion. He was the Splendid Splinter. I’d just have to say he was the best ever. I saw him play. I can see that tall, lanky running kid. He kind of loped. I’d never leave my seat, even to go to the bathroom. You had to admire Ted for what he did. I guess he wasn’t very sociable, but he was marvelous with no question.

You know who stands out in my memory? The guy who ran backwards to first base. Jimmy Piersall. I always admired him.

Also, another one — I can picture him pushing his home run. Carlton Fisk. I liked him. Big square jaw. Determination right there.

Varitek is right up there with Nomar, but with half the recognition.

Roger Clemens — He registers nil with me because of his poor personality, but he is an excellent pitcher.

Jim Rice — I absolutely loved him. Besides being a handsome man, he was a handsome player. He was a lot of fun to watch.

Wade Boggs — When he got up, I was sure he was going to get a hit.

Mo. I liked Mo Vaughn.

Canseco, he was a crybaby.

Johnny Pesky. From Doerr to Pesky, I remember that. And he played the hot corner, too.

I liked that nice pitcher for the Red Sox, Luis Tiant.

Even now, I try to remember the replacements on the Red Sox. If you remember your own name at 108, you’re doing good.

Sharon Gosling wrote a letter to the Red Sox about Kathryn Gemme and they responded with a package containing a letter (unsigned) and photos of Nomar Garciaparra (signed), Jason Varitek and Brian Daubach. “I couldn’t believe it — for me?” She showed it to all her new friends at Atrium, but they didn’t seem that excited. “I thought they’d go ga-ga over it. I love it. There’s no doubt about it.” Weeks later, Kathryn was still pleased and excited that the Red Sox had sent her these items. They are minor treasures she keeps with her throughout the season.

After the Red Sox won it all in 2004

Kathryn Gemme was invited to a game at Fenway on May 30, 2004 and was rewarded by a visit to the field, a kiss from Johnny Pesky, and a 9-7 win in 12 innings when Dave McCarty hit a walk-off home run.

After the Red Sox won the 2004 World Series, I reached out to Kathryn the next day and Sharon Gosling wrote me back that day: “She is pleased, and now that her goal is met, she is ready to go. Sad but true, she is now talking about death. She turns 110 on Nov. 9th. She says she hopes to see her 110th, then she’s ready.”

The trophy came to visit her on May 5, 2005 when State Senator Marc Pacheco made arrangements to bring it to the Nemasket Healthcare Center in Middleborough.1

Ms. Gemme died in Middleborough on December 29, 2006, at age 112.

BILL NOWLIN confesses to have left Game Three of the 2004 ALCS before it was over – due to a 13-year-old son at home with a friend. But since the 1950s he has attended countless Red Sox games at a place he often calls his “second home.” He waited 59 years to see the Sox win it all. He is one of the founders of Rounder Records; the one Hall of Fame into which he was inducted is the International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. He has written and edited many books, mostly on baseball and mostly for SABR, but has not gone far in life – he lives in Cambridge, maybe 10 miles from where he was born in Boston.

Acknowledgments

This article, save for the last section, originally ran in Red Sox Magazine (Fifth Edition, 2003) as “At 108, Kathryn Gemme’s Still Putting On Her Sox.”

Photo by Bill Nowlin.

Notes

1 Michael Naughton, “At 110, Red Sox fan finds thrill in trophy,” Boston Globe, May 12, 2005: GlobeSouth 5.

Lenny DiNardo being transported by Bill Janovitz and Pete Caldes during the 2004 World Series celebration. (Photo courtesy of Lenny DiNardo)

Before Game One of the 2004 World Series, the Red Sox team and staff were introduced individually, coming out from the dugout and standing along the Fenway Park first-base line.  This included the batboys – Andrew Crosby and Chris Cundiff – the trainers, the clubhouse staff, and – as a bonus, “Mr. Red Sox” Johnny Pesky.1

Five of the players on the 25-man World Series roster had not been on the team on Opening Day: Orlando Cabrera, Curtis Leskanic, Doug Mientkiewicz, Mike Myers, and Dave Roberts.

There were a number of players introduced who were not on the 25-man roster, but who had made contributions to the team during the course of the season.  

There were also players introduced who were on the roster but, as events transpired, did not see action in the World Series, which lasted only four games since the Red Sox swept the Cardinals. These included Terry Adams, Ellis Burks, Curtis Leskanic, Sandy Martinez, Dave McCarty, Ramiro Mendoza, Mike Myers, Dave Roberts, and Kevin Youkilis.

Others introduced before the game who were not on the roster were Lenny DiNardo, Ricky Gutierrez, and Adam Hyzdu.

It was quite gracious of the Red Sox to recognize the players in this fashion, players who had been readied as possible reserves should they have been needed. Adam Hyzdu said, “Theo was nice to do that.  It would have been a fluke [had either Lenny or I been needed], but once the Series started you can’t really do anything with your roster.  A couple of days there working, doing some hitting, to be kind of fresh – just in case.”2 His understanding was at first pitch, the rosters were locked.

Lenny DiNardo said, “I was fortunate enough to be on the team – 22 games that season – and they allowed to line up with the team at home, in uniform.” Though he did not travel with the team to St. Louis, he was at the first two games, at Fenway Park. “I was either in the clubhouse or the dugout, traveling back and forth. I do remember meeting Steven Tyler in the clubhouse. He came in and got a cup of coffee and I talked to him for a minute. James Taylor, maybe, at some point? Most of the time, I was in the clubhouse taking it in on the couch. Ortiz would come in every now and then – he was DH-ing. He would come in and hang out.

“I think they did their best to let me be a part of the festivities and whatnot. Obviously I was on the duckboat parade.

“A 24-year-old kid who wasn’t going to be on the postseason roster.  There were a lot of veterans on that club – a lot of dirt on their spikes.  I don’t look back on it with any regret.”3

Adam Hyzdu did travel with the team to St. Louis as well. “In uniform, in the dugout. It was really cool gesture to fly us back. Obviously appreciated, because it was an experience that very few get. You got a room. You got your meal money.  Everything was normal. You’re just not an active player. It was a really good seat, for sure.  A good seat.” And at the end, doused with champagne.

Notes

1 Full coverage of the introductions can be seen on this YouTube video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYCweQS5nVo&t=1494s

2 Interview with Adam Hyzdu on June 13, 2023.

3 When the Red Sox won the final game of the World Series, DiNardo said, “I was at a bar with a lot of my friends who were musicians – Flat Top Johnny’s [Kendall Square.] Bill Janovitz, who was in a band called Buffalo Tom, and Pete Caldes, Ed Valauskas, and Juliana Hatfield, and a bunch of other musicians that I became friends with and am ‘til today – ended up picking me up and crowd-surfing me from one side of the bar to the other. I think I landed on a pool table.” Interview with Lenny DiNardo on August 27, 2023.

All four men would appear at varying points in the season down in Sarasota, Florida, for the Sarasota Red Sox, the Red Sox Advanced-A affiliate in the Florida State League.

Jon Lester

Jon Lester almost started 2004 in the Texas Rangers farm system. If all had gone according to plan, he would have been a part of a trade that brought Alex Rodriguez to Boston. In 2003 he had gone 6-9 and posted a 3.65 ERA with the Augusta (South Carolina) Greenjackets, the Red Sox Low-A affiliate, and entered minor-league camp projected to end up in Sarasota.1 

Lester battled injuries in the late spring and early summer, which temporarily sidelined him.2 However, the injuries did not stop his momentum as he continued progressing up the ladder in the Red Sox organization. By the late summer, the team was thinking about moving him up to the Double-A Portland (Maine) Sea Dogs in 2005. He became a consistent strikeout threat with a fastball reaching 96 MPH.3

Lester ended 2004 ranked by Baseball America as the fourth-best prospect in the Red Sox system.4

Projected to join him in the 2005 Portland rotation was future closer Jonathan Papelbon …

Jonathan Papelbon

Jonathan Papelbon, a 2003 draft pick, entered 2004 as a starter for the Sarasota Red Sox. The idea of Papelbon as a starter is likely foreign to most Red Sox fans, but before transitioning to closer, he worked his way through the Red Sox minor-league system as a starter. And frankly, he was not terrible. During their time together in Sarasota, Papelbon kept pace with and sometimes outperformed Lester. By May 9, Papelbon was 3-1 with a 2.86 ERA in 28⅓ innings pitched, outpacing Lester, who was 1-2 with a 5.48 ERA in 21⅓ innings pitched.5 While Lester improved throughout May and ultimately ended the month with a 4-3 record with a 4.14 ERA in 45⅔ innings pitched, Papelbon kept up his pace and ended the month with a 4-3 record with a 3.16 ERA in 51⅓ innings pitched.6 A direct comparison between the two became more difficult after May as Lester struggled with injuries and spent time on the disabled list.7

Papelbon’s success even sparked calls to have him promoted to Portland in mid-2004, prompting Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein to shoot down these calls by saying that Papelbon needed to stay in Sarasota to work on his offspeed stuff.8 Luckily for Papelbon, the Red Sox eventually embraced his firepower and moved him into the closer role in 2007.

Papelbon ended 2004 ranked by Baseball America as the third-best prospect in the Red Sox organization, just ahead of Jon Lester.9

Papelbon was ultimately selected to the Florida State League All-Star Game, an honor he shared with Hanley Ramirez …

Hanley Ramirez

Hanley Ramirez entered 2004 as the top prospect in the Red Sox system and the top prospect in all of baseball.10 He even started the year playing with the Red Sox in spring training, and there were talks of his starting the year in Portland, not Sarasota.11 Despite these predictions, Ramirez joined the squad in Sarasota.12

Ramirez started strong, batting over .300 through April and May. However, despite his best efforts to play through it, a wrist injury sidelined him for a month at the end of May.13 Despite being named to the All-Star team, Ramirez could not play.14

When he returned from injury, he picked up from where he left off, hitting .362 in his first 14 games in July.15 His performance with Sarasota earned him recognition as the best defensive shortstop in the Florida State League and a promotion to Double-A Portland.16 At the end of the season, Ramirez retained his spot as the top prospect in the Red Sox system.17

Ramirez’s promotion opened the door for new draft pick Dustin Pedroia …

Dustin Pedroia

Dustin Pedroia started in 2004, not in Boston, but at Arizona State University. In June he was selected by the Red Sox in the second round (65th overall) of the amateur draft.18 He was the Red Sox’ first pick in the draft. The team had lost its prior pick as compensation to the Oakland A’s for signing Keith Foulke. Pedroia had excelled at Arizona State, having been named the best collegiate defensive player in the nation in 2003 and batting .384 with a .466 on-base percentage during his three years there.19 Baseball America ranked him as the second-best defensive player in the draft.20 Given his résumé, the Red Sox had actually expected him to go higher in the draft.21 Luckily for the Red Sox, Pedroia ultimately ended up in Boston.

After he signed with the Red Sox in July, the team assigned him to the Single-A Augusta GreenJackets.22 The Red Sox planned for him to spend a couple of weeks in Augusta and then move to Sarasota.23 After 12 games in Augusta, Pedroia moved to Sarasota, where he batted.307 batting with a .382 on-base percentage in his first 24 games without committing an error.24 It was a strong start, and it only got stronger. Pedroia ultimately played 30 games in Sarasota, posting a .336 batting average.25

Pedroia visited Fenway Park on September 20, and took batting practice with the team. It was his first time in Boston.26 He ended the season ranked by Baseball America as the sixth-best prospect in the Red Sox organization.27

The 2004 Sarasota Red Sox

How did the team itself actually do? Despite its wealth of future stars, the Sarasota Red Sox finished 37-30, third in the Western Division of the Florida State League and out of the playoffs.28 At the end of the season, the team opted to leave the Florida State League in favor of the Carolina League. Starting in 2005, the Wilmington Blue Rocks replaced the Sarasota Red Sox as the Advanced Class-A affiliate of the Boston Red Sox.29

The legacy of the 2004 Sarasota Red Sox extends beyond its on-field performance. It incubated future stars and pieces for a Red Sox World Series team. It was also unusual for the number of future stars it had. There were more future pieces in Sarasota than in either Portland or Pawtucket. By the end of the season, six of the Red Sox’ top 10 prospects had spent time there.30 Aside from Pedroia, Papelbon, and Lester, Manny DelCarmen and Brandon Moss also spent time with Sarasota and, ultimately, with the 2007 Boston Red Sox. However, DelCarmen was the only one of the two actually to appear with the team in the playoffs. While Hanley Ramirez was not a part of the 2007 team, he was a crucial part of the trade that brought vital pieces of that team to Boston.

In 2004, the future of the Boston Red Sox was in Sarasota.

CHRISTOPHER D. CHAVIS’s love affair with the Boston Red Sox began as an undergraduate at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, where his frequent trips to Fenway Park instilled in him a love of the Olde Towne Team that spawned a deep interest in baseball history. A public-policy researcher and nonprofit leader by day and amateur baseball historian by night, he can usually be found reading a book or watching a documentary about the Sox. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two cats, Teddy and Yaz.

Notes

1 Gordon Edes, “He’s Dealing With It Just Fine,” Boston Globe, February 27, 2004: E6.

2 Bob Hohler, “Youthful Farm Hands Making Hay,” Boston Globe, June 20, 2004: E10.

3 Gordon Edes, “Baseball Notes,” Boston Globe, August 8, 2004: C12.

4 Gordon Edes, “Checking on Short Subjects,” Boston Globe, November 14, 2004: D10.

5 “Minor League Red Sox Statistics,” Boston Globe, May 9, 2004: C10.

6 “Red Sox Minor League Averages,” Boston Globe, May 30, 2004: C9.

7 Bob Hohler, “Youthful Farm Hands Making Hay,” Boston Globe, June 20, 2004: E10.

8 “Youthful Farm Hands Making Hay.”

9 Gordon Edes, “Checking on Short Subjects.”

10 “Gordon Edes, “Selig Denies Playing Favorites,” Boston Globe, January 11, 2004: D2.

11 Nick Cafardo, “In-Depth Look at Injuries,” Boston Globe, March 20, 2004: D2.

12 Chris Umpierre, “Sarasota Collects 6-4 Win Against Sloppy Fort Myers,” Fort Myers (Florida) News-Press, April 10, 2004: C7.

13 Nick Cafardo, “Garciaparra to Play for PawSox Tonight,” Boston Globe, May 30, 2004: C8.

14 Bob Hohler, “West Going in the Right Direction,” Boston Globe, June 6, 2004: C9.

15 Nick Cafardo, “He’s Short on Patience,” Boston Globe, July 18, 2004: D10.

16 Gordon Edes, “Baseball Notes,” Boston Globe, August 8, 2004: C12.

17 Gordon Edes, “Checking on Short Subjects,” Boston Globe, November 14, 2004: D10.

18 “Red Sox Draft Picks,” Boston Globe, June 8, 2004: F5.

19 Bob Hohler, “It’s Reunion Time For Padres Alumni,” Boston Globe, June 8, 2004: F5.

20 Gordon Edes, “Age Hasn’t Caught Up Yet,” Boston Globe, June 13, 2004: C12.

21 Bob Hohler, “It’s Reunion Time For Padres Alumni,” Boston Globe, June 8, 2004: F5.

22 “Boston Signs Top Draft Pick,” North Adams (Massachusetts) Transcript, July 14, 2004: B3.

23 Nick Cafardo, “He’s Short on Patience,” Boston Globe, July 18, 2004: D10

24 Bob Hohler, “Only a few will realize big dreams,” Boston Globe, August 29, 2004: F11

25 Peter May, “Wife’s surgery sends Cabrera on Home Run,” Boston Globe, September 21, 2004: F5

26 Peter May, “Wife’s surgery sends Cabrera on Home Run,” Boston Globe, September 21, 2004: F5

27 Gordon Edes, “Checking on Short Subjects,” Boston Globe, November 14, 2004: D10.

28 “Minor League Beat,” Orlando Sentinel, September 6, 2004: D12.

29 “Sox Leave Sarasota,” (Fort Myers) News-Press, September 23, 2004: C2.

30 Gordon Edes, “Checking on Short Subjects,” Boston Globe, November 14, 2004: D10.

Ticket purchase receipt to Game Five of the 2004 World Series — had it been played at Yankee Stadium. (Photo by Jeb Stewart)

Even for a confident Yankees fan (are there any other kind?), the 2003 offseason began with troubling signs. True, Brian Cashman found a way to obtain Alex Rodriguez, who had seemed destined to bolster Boston’s already impressive lineup just days earlier.

However, the losses of starting pitchers Roger Clemens and Andy Pettitte, both of whom signed with Houston, damaged the pitching staff. Their replacements, Javier Vázquez and Jon Lieber, were above-average starters, but neither had pitched in the playoffs before, let alone in Fenway Park or Yankee Stadium in the cool air of October. By contrast, Boston had two aces in Pedro Martinez and Curt Schilling, both of whom had already turned in dominant performances against the Yankees in the postseason.

And all season, there was no good statistical reason for anyone to believe New York was better than Boston. True, the 2004 Yankees had a team OPS+ of 111, which was essentially the same as the Red Sox’ collective OPS+ of 110.1 However, there was a marked difference in the quality of the teams’ pitching staffs, as the Yankees posted a below-average team ERA+ of 96, while Boston had a superior team ERA+ of 116.

Boston’s record of 98-64 was slightly better than its expected record (96-66), considering the team’s +181 run differential, so there is no evidence that the Red Sox underachieved during the season. However, the Yankees’ 101-61 record far exceeded its expected record (89-73), as revealed by the team’s more modest +89 run differential. The real surprise in 2004 was that New York won the AL East championship by three games over Boston. But if anyone believed the Yankees should have been favored over the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS, such an idea was fool’s gold.2

In hindsight, Boston’s advantages seem obvious. But on October 16, 2004, I had a ticket to see my beloved Yankees in Game Five of the World Series in St. Louis. With a three-games-to-none lead over the Red Sox in the ALCS, there was no need to think I didn’t need to pack. My only real concern at the time was that Houston, with Carlos Beltran playing out of his mind, was going to beat the Cardinals to ruin my trip. To believe that Boston might come back and overcome such a large deficit was not only unthinkable but unprecedented, at least in major-league baseball. When it mattered, the Yankees had always beaten the Red Sox.

I’ll never forget that wonderful October day in 1978 when I sprinted home from school to watch Game 163 – in effect, an AL East playoff game3 – on a 13-inch black-and-white TV with snowy reception. Bucky Dent’s name will always be infamous in Boston because of that game. And while Aaron Boone’s home run in Game Seven of the 2003 ALCS was still fresh in every fan’s mind, the 2004 ALCS now seemed destined to be decided in just four or five games.

But Games Four and Five became recurring nightmares for Yankees fans. I could not bring myself to watch either game in its entirety in writing this essay. I remember enough as it is.

In Game Four, with the Yankees leading in the bottom of the ninth, Kevin Millar worked a walk. Pinch-runner Dave Roberts stole second, Mariano Rivera then blew the save, and David Ortiz homered to win the game for Boston in the 12th inning. The following morning, I dragged myself out of bed and drove to my office. One of our secretaries walked up to my door and shouted, “How’d you like that Red Sox game?!” I glared and closed my door without responding.

Game Five was nearly six hours of identical torture. Once again, Rivera blew a save and the Yankees lost, this time in 14 innings. I walked into work even more exhausted and grumpier, only this time with the sickening feeling that the Yankees were going to blow the ALCS. Deep down, I knew I would be selling my World Series ticket.

Of course, everyone remembers Game Six as the “bloody sock” game because of Schilling’s heroics. My enduring memory of that game was Yankee reliever Tom “Flash” Gordon throwing up in the bullpen with the Yankees trailing, 4-2.4 Gordon knew too. And the Yankees lost.

I rationalized some hope for Game Seven. After all, the Yanks had won two games over the Red Sox to clinch the pennant in ’49, had beaten Boston in that playoff back in ’78, and had won Game Seven in 2003. But I knew the Red Sox were the better team. They destroyed Kevin Brown and Vázquez in short order, which sucked the energy out of the crowd at Yankee Stadium, and the series was over.

I did have the brief fortune of selling my World Series ticket at a profit to a Red Sox fan in my office, but that proved to be fool’s gold too as the baseball gods weren’t finished having fun with me. There was no Game Five because Boston swept St. Louis, so it turned into a phantom ticket, and I had to return his money. The Cardinals then made me return the actual ticket to get my money back. With a nonrefundable fee of $10 per ticket, it ended up costing just that much. I still have my ticket receipt, which has a World Series logo on it, though I’m not sure why I haven’t burned it. I suppose it’s to remember Bart Giamatti’s rueful words about the game of baseball being “designed to break your heart,” which is really what makes it the best game there is. Baseball broke mine creatively in October 2004.5

JEB STEWART is a lawyer in Birmingham, Alabama, whose favorite pastime has always been taking his sons, Nolan and Ryan, and his wife, Stephanie, to the Rickwood Classic each year. He has been a SABR member since 2012 and is co-president of the Rickwood Field SABR Chapter. He is an executive committee member on the Board of the Friends of Rickwood Field and is a regular contributor to the Rickwood Times. He also edits the Friends’ quarterly newsletter, “Rickwood Tales.” He has written several biographies for SABR’s Baseball Biography Project.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Bill Nowlin for encouraging me to write this essay. Aside from reliving my suffering, my biggest concern was being viewed as a heretic by Yankee fans everywhere for even considering contributing to a book about the 2004 Red Sox. Of course, I quickly realized that Yankees fans are unlikely to find out, so please don’t tell on me. Thanks also to Miles Millon, who is probably the youngest Red Sox fan I know. Like most fans, he inherited the memories of Boston’s long history of suffering from his father. And while he experienced a taste of that himself in 2003, he has shared four World Series championships with his father since then. Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention that part of my motivation for writing this essay was to disprove Bill Chapman’s theory that I am incapable of saying anything positive about the Red Sox. My wife and I traveled to Boston a few years ago and Bill C was a great guide.

Although the 2004 ALCS made me miserable, I do take great comfort in knowing that having the Red Sox defeat the Yankees, win the World Series, and end the Curse of the Bambino was probably the best year of Bill N’s, Miles’, and Bill C’s baseball fandom. So, I’m glad about that. Well, almost.

Notes

1 All statistics and team records were taken from Baseball-Reference.com.

2 My own belief that the Yankees would win the series was completely rooted in the history between the teams, as well as New York’s success during Joe Torre’s tenure. However, the glaring statistical disparity between the pitching staffs, as well as the Yankees’ improbable regular-season record, exaggerated the strengths of New York relative to Boston. Not surprisingly, the Red Sox had won the teams’ regular-season matchups, 11-8. With all these warning signs, if there was ever a team that was primed to blow a 3-games-to-none lead it was the 2004 New York Yankees. Similarly, if there was ever a team that was built to overcome such a deficit it was the 2004 Boston Red Sox. Even so, the fact that the greatest closer in the history of baseball had the opportunity to send the Yankees to the World Series twice, but blew saves in back-to-back games, is not something anyone can explain.

3 Both Keith Jackson of ABC Sports and Frank Messer of WPIX described the game as being a playoff in their broadcasts, which are available on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C47bgmpLmPk and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IowgfzVsXGA.

4 Memory is a funny thing. Before I started this project, I was positive that Gordon got sick in the bullpen during Game Four or Game Five, and I had seen it on the TV broadcast. Since I could not find evidence that this happened by watching Gordon warm up in either game in the portions of the broadcasts I watched on YouTube, I turned to newspapers.com and found an article confirming that Gordon got sick during Game Six. Bob Klapisch, “Lack of Heart, Bad Ideas, Too Much for Yankees’ Dollars to Overcome,” Hackensack (New Jersey) Record: October 22, 2004: S-1. I am speculating, but I assume that I read this report shortly after the series ended and confabulated the memory because I still cannot find video evidence that it ever happened.

5 I was tempted to write that I finally understood Giamatti’s essay on a visceral level after the Yankees collapsed in 2004. However, most baseball fans get their hearts broken every season, and some years are worse than others. The 2001 World Series – not the 2004 collapse – remains the worst defeat of this Yankee fan’s baseball life.

Paul Semendinger and Paul Semendinger, 2023. (Photo by Janet Semendinger)

There is the story that when the British surrendered to the colonial forces at Yorktown to end the Revolutionary War, that their band played a song titled “The World Turned Upside Down.”

As a Yankees fan, I felt that a similar song should have been played when the Red Sox defeated the Yankees and then went on to win the 2004 World Series. What happened to the eternal Curse of the Bambino? There was a part of me that hoped the Yankees would never lose to the Red Sox …

I’ll never forget the feelings I had during those four games when the Red Sox came roaring back to defeat the Yankees after going down 3-0 in the American League Championship Series. The Yankees had dominated the Red Sox in Game Three, 19-8.  It was all but certain, to me, and most Yankees fans, that another World Series for our team was on the horizon. 

That was the way it was supposed to be. That was the natural order. The Yankees should win.  The Red Sox need to lose. It was a formula that worked well. 

And then it all fell apart – suddenly and completely.

All these years later, I don’t remember any specific games, just moments from the games, moments when the impossible happened time and time and time again. 

The mighty Yankees fell. It didn’t seem logical. It didn’t seem real. But it was. 

The memories I have of those games, the moments when everything changed, are scattered. I don’t recall when these events happened, and I’ll never go back and watch those contests again.  I simply remember being in total shock game-after-game as these things took place:

Dave Roberts stealing second base.

Mariano Rivera blowing a save.  And then blowing another game.

David Ortiz hitting a walk-off homer.

Johnny Damon circling the bases.

Flash Gordon giving up run after run after run. 

Derek Jeter going 1-for-7 in an extra-inning game.

The bloody sock.

Kevin Brown failing to get through the second inning in the decisive Game Seven.

The looks of confusion on Joe Torre’s face.

What was happening?

Some of it, most of it, still doesn’t seem real.

Did the Red Sox really clinch their victory on the field at Yankee Stadium? It can’t be!

I was in complete disbelief as this all played out. 

In the end, I turned off the television and sat in silence. 

The Red Sox were the champions?

*****

Most might think that I was angry when the Yankees lost, or, said differently, when the Red Sox won. But, although I was stupefied, I wasn’t upset. In fact, part of – a small part at first – but part of me found some solace and even a degree of happiness because I knew that Red Sox victory brought with it an unbelievable amount of joy to a very Red Sox fan.

Once, a long time ago, in 1946, in the town of Norwood, New Jersey, a little boy named Paul fell in love with the game of baseball. He loved the sport and the players. In his youthful exuberance, he gravitated toward a team far from home and to a player who he felt was the greatest ever. As an 8-year-old kid, my father Paul connected with Ted Williams and the Red Sox and he has loved that player and that team with all his heart, ever since. 

I don’t think there has ever been a bigger Red Sox fan than my dad. And, although I was permitted to choose my own team to root for, and I chose the Yankees, I was also brought up knowing that Teddy Ballgame, Yaz, and so many others were players to be respected and looked up to. 

In my home, alongside the names of Gehrig, Mantle, Jackson, and others, there was also an untold affinity for Bobby Doerr, Johnny Pesky, Vern Stevens, Rico Petrocelli and so many others. Yeah, the Yankees had the Great DiMaggio, but the DiMaggio on the Red Sox wasn’t so bad either. I knew early on that Babe Ruth had first been a Red Sox and a World Champion before he ever came to New York. 

As I look back, it must have been difficult for my father to see the Sox fail year after year and decade after decade – especially living in an area filled with Yankees fans and in a historical period dominated by the Yankees. The Impossible Dream of 1967 ended with a loss. Fisk’s homer in 1975 only led to eventual heartbreak. Bucky Dent’s homer in 1978, as my dad’s 10-year-old son leapt for joy, must have been a bitter pill to swallow. And 1986, with that groundball, it must have been the worst of all. I think that groundball was the bitterest pill to swallow. 

My dad never expected me to become a Red Sox fan. On some level, he may have even taken joy that his son got to enjoy seeing his team win so many championships…  Maybe? 

Still, my dad had to wonder what it was like to see one’s favorite team, the team he rooted for over a lifetime, win it all. I am sure my father wondered if the Red Sox would, or could, ever win a championship. 

And then, there they were … Millar and Mueller, Ortiz and Damon, Pedro, Lowe, and Schilling, Varitek. And the rest. They were the champions. The Red Sox had defeated the Yankees and were on their way to being baseball’s best team. 

The Red Sox as a franchise struggled for 86 long years, but for 58 of those years, my dad suffered along with them. It was a long and tiring road, one filled with heartbreak time and again, but then it was all over. A magical new story was written; a story that ended with baseball’s ultimate glory. A story that concluded with the Red Sox on the top of baseball.

The world had indeed turned upside down. 

I wasn’t happy that the Yankees lost. But the joy that my father felt, and still enjoys today, made it okay. 

I’m not happy that the Yankees lost. I didn’t enjoy any of it. But in a way, I am very glad the Red Sox won.

PAUL SEMENDINGER is the author of numerous books including The Least Among Them and From Compton to the Bronx. Paul also runs the Yankees website Start Spreading the News. A retired principal, Paul stays active running marathons and still playing baseball as a pitcher in a 35-year-old and older wood-bat baseball league.