Hidden value for Wakefield
ST. LOUIS -- When we look back on this improbable postseason turnaround by the Red Sox, one of the turning points will be hard to find unless we recall the words of Red Sox manager Terry Francona in the aftermath of the humiliating 19-8 loss to the Yankees in Game 3 of the American League Championship Series.
"When we win tomorrow," Francona said to assembled media members, some of whom may have chuckled to themselves, for the Red Sox had just been pushed into what was viewed as an inescapable 3-0 hole, "we'll have Wake to thank for that."
As in Tim Wakefield, he of the funny pitch and the priceless professional demeanor.
The source of Francona's admiration seems, at first glance, to be strange. After all, Wakefield was the fourth pitcher that infamous Saturday night and like the three before him -- Bronson Arroyo, Ramiro Mendoza, and Curtis Leskanic -- Wakefield fared poorly. Touched for five hits and five runs in 3 1/3 innings, Wakefield's 61 pitches surely didn't qualify as folklore numbers, so why folklore status?
Because in layman's terms, he took one for the team. He volunteered to try to stop what had the makings of a lost cause. Though Wakefield was in line to start Game 4 of the ALCS the very next night, he unselfishly threw that opportunity away and volunteered to pitch in relief.
"What he did, it makes you pretty proud," Francona said that night, then added, "I hope we get to play long enough where he gets to pitch again because when you're coaching and managing and you have players like that, even under the circumstances, it makes you very proud."
Perhaps on that night something stronger than "The Curse" began to dictate the Red Sox' course, because Wakefield's heralded move opened the gates for an eight-game postseason winning streak that brought the Red Sox their first World Series triumph in 86 years.
Had the Red Sox not won last night's Game 4, Wakefield was in position to start Game 5 and possibly get the clincher, but as he stood in the madness that was the team's locker room, he let it be known that the year had ended to his satisfaction.
"I'm ecstatic," said Wakefield. "I've been through, and this team has been through, so many tough times since I've been here, but this team, these guys just have never quit. The passion that the Boston fans have is so great. I'm just glad we had the opportunity to do this for them."
Having joined the Red Sox in the summer of 1995, he's the player who has been with the team the longest and it's been a roller-coaster ride of emotions -- from 16-8 and 17-8 records in '95 and '98, to demotions to the bullpen, to assignments as the closer, to banishment from the ALCS roster in 1999 when the Red Sox got thumped by the Yankees, to the ultimate pain of Aaron Boone's game-winning home run against the knuckleballer in the 11th inning of ALCS Game 7 one year ago.
"It wasn't supposed to end this way," Wakefield said that night, fighting back tears as he sat in front of his locker. "I feel like I let everyone down. I'm disappointed in the outcome. It hurts, and all I can say is I'm sorry."
The apology was never necessary, but it was long ago accepted, and if indeed a World Series triumph over the Cardinals takes away 86 years of pain -- including the 2003 heartache against the Yankees -- then Francona will forever point to that cold and raw evening of Oct. 16, 2004, when all around him, hope was slipping away.
"[Wakefield] was over my shoulder with spikes on and a glove in his hand," said Francona. "Wake really, really picked us up."
His teammates were in unanimous agreement with Francona's assessment, which is why reliever Mike Timlin put a bear hug on the veteran knuckleballer and shouted out so everyone could hear: "This guy is the best. The best."
