Sitting behind home plate, where he is for every home game, Red Sox special adviser Jeremy Kapstein made a phone call in the third inning Saturday night.
"I called Bill Wanless [vice president of public relations for the Pawtucket Red Sox] in the Pawtucket press box and told him, 'If anyone down there hasn't seen a no-hitter, tell them to put this game on. This kid is going to pitch a no-hitter tonight.' "
Innings passed and drama built. No Orioles struck hits against Clay Buchholz. Finally, the kid was warming up for the start of the ninth.
Upstairs in the Fenway Park control booth, where the songs are selected, Megan Kaiser opted for "Sweetness" by Jimmy Eat World, then "Can't Stop" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It was getting cold in her open-air perch, but Kaiser would not activate the booth's heater.
"Can't change anything while he's still got the no-hitter going," Kaiser said. "That's the way it is for Red Sox fans everywhere. We think what we do has an impact on the game."
Fans watching at home observed their own rituals. Pillows on couches were arranged in a specific order, not to be moved. Whoever was sitting in the
Back upstairs at Fenway, NESN's Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy were being unusually careful with their words.
"I never said no-hitter," Orsillo noted. "Not until it was over."
It was over when Nick Markakis froze on a 1-and-2 curveball. Perhaps milking the moment in his inimitable fashion, umpire Joe West hesitated for a split second, then rang up Markakis with all the gusto of Leslie Nielsen in "The Naked Gun."
It was then that the love of a Nation was unleashed on the 23-year-old righthander who was pitching his second game in the major leagues. Buchholz got stung in the nose by David Ortiz's shoulder at the bottom of the pig pile and it looked like the kid was crying when Tina Cervasio grabbed him for the live postgame interview in front of the dugout. Up in the control room, Kaiser hit the mute button in the middle of "Dirty Water" so fans could listen to the non-answers from the no-hit man.
In the dugout, Terry Francona was feeling relief along with happiness. He'd been worried about the modern-day scourge known as the "pitch count," and orders from baseball operations had instructed the manager not to let Buchholz throw more than 120 pitches. According to general manager Theo Epstein, Buchholz never had thrown more than 98 pitches in a game.
Francona had called the GM after the seventh and again after the eighth and there was a possibility Buchholz could have been lifted from the game before giving up a hit. The final pitch to Markakis was No. 115.
"I told Theo you can come down and take him out," chuckled Francona the morning after. "I don't want to take him out of the game, but we also have a responsibility not to ruin his career. It would have to have gotten a little sloppy for him to come out and I can tell you that Millsy [bench coach Brad Mills] would have had a heckuva time taking him out 'cause I don't think I wanted to do it."
"I know everyone was ripping us for the 120 pitch count," Epstein said yesterday. "I'm just so thankful it didn't get to that point. It would have been ugly."
Hall of Fame righthander Jim Palmer, who called the game for Orioles television, said, "Buchholz has great arm action on his changeup. He looked like a righthanded version of [Johan] Santana. If you throw a lot of strikes, you have to pitch to contact, and this is a tough park to do that in."
Palmer knows a little about success at a young age. When he was 20, he shut out the Los Angeles Dodgers in the second game of the World Series in 1966. It was the last game Sandy Koufax ever pitched.
Buchholz went back to his hotel room after the game, called his parents in Beaumont, Texas, checked text messages (there were about 80), watched himself on "SportsCenter" a few times, then hit the sack. He was back at the ballpark at 8 a.m. yesterday "hanging out by myself," and the Hall of Fame already was calling, asking for a game jersey, a hat, and some baseballs. Buchholz said he'd never part with the green cowboy boots he wore to the ballpark.
"That's the one part of Texas I bring with me," said the rookie.
It's amusing to see Buchholz standing at his major league locker because he looks about 16 and appears to weigh about 175 pounds (he's listed as 190). His clubhouse stall is one of those temporary plywood cubicles used only in September when the Sox are allowed to expand their roster. His
A dozen reporters already were gathered near his space when the Sox dressing room opened at 10:30 a.m., and Buchholz was as gracious and humble as he'd been the night before. He spoke of "once in a lifetime" and "all I've dreamed about." He said he'd let catcher Jason Varitek call all the pitches.
What if they had come to take him out of the game while he still had the no-hitter going?
"I think it would have been a bad deal," he said. "Thankfully it didn't have to come to that point and I got out of it with less than 120 pitches. I definitely could have thrown more. I felt like I was throwing better in the eighth and ninth inning than I was earlier."
When he was done with the media, Coco Crisp came by Buchholz's locker and asked him to sign a couple of baseballs. Then Curt Schilling bolted past him, bound for the clubhouse door, and said, "Don't be late for stretching."
Small irony there. The emergence of Buchholz gives the Sox less reason to cave in to Schilling come contract time.
At this hour there's no plan for the no-hit kid. Buchholz is not slotted for another start and it's unlikely he'd be part of the Red Sox playoff roster.
But his future in Red Sox lore is secure. He is the 23-year-old rookie who threw a no-hitter at Fenway Park in his second game in the big leagues.
He didn't even look quite 23 when he left the ballpark after yesterday's win. Buchholz granted one last round of no-hit interviews, then walked out of the clubhouse wearing a backpack that would have made any junior high schooler proud. Cooperstown meets "High School Musical." Only at Fenway.
Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at dshaughnessy@globe.com.![]()
