Momentum keeps shifting loyalties
As the Red Sox floated home from Cleveland following Thursday's reassuring Game 5 win over the Indians in the American League Championship Series, they gladly carved out room on their charter for an old, familiar friend: momentum.
Momentum is an elusive, unpredictable, powerful intangible. It can change without warning, leading teams down a tortured, twisted path of destruction or an illuminated, invigorated road to redemption. Sometimes it clubs you over the head - a ball dribbling through a first baseman's legs, for instance - and sometimes it manifests itself far more subtly. Either way, the change it brings cannot be ignored.
Momentum is Kevin McHale clotheslining Lakers forward Kurt Rambis. Momentum is Dave Roberts stealing second against the Yankees.
It's also too many men on the ice against the Montreal Canadiens.
There have not (yet) been seismic shifts of that compelling nature in this playoff matchup, but there's no question the tenor of this series already has changed three times, beginning with Boston pinning four runs on 19-game winner C.C. Sabathia in the fourth inning of Game 1 and cruising to a surprisingly easy 10-3 victory.
At that moment, momentum put fresh linens on its rollaway cot, chose some tasteful paisley curtains, and hunkered down for the long haul in the Red Sox clubhouse.
Remember how you felt after that win? The results, combined with a cakewalk sweep over the Angels in the Division Series, ignited dreamy talk of the Red Sox running the table. Boston had spectacular pitching, timely hitting, and a bulletproof bullpen. The Sox were going all the way, and they were going to dismantle anyone in their path.
Then, poof! Just like that, momentum started making noise about needing some space. It was just after the sixth inning of Game 2, when Manny Delcarmen couldn't hold a 6-5 lead and the game languished into extra innings.
Momentum was packed and gone by the 11th, when Eric Gagné took the mound.
Enough said about that.
By the time the Indians had also locked up Game 3, there were doubts plaguing the Sox at every turn. How come nobody but Manny or Big Papi could hit? Why did the Sox keep knocking home runs out of the park with nobody on base? What happened to the starting pitching? Where was Jacoby Ellsbury? Why was Gagné even on the playoff roster?
Game 4 did not bring any relief. In fact, it appeared momentum was toying with its former paramour in the bottom of the fifth with the Red Sox trailing, 1-0, when Tim Wakefield threw a knuckler to Cleveland second baseman Asdrubal Cabrera. He popped up the pitch into foul territory near the first base line, and Kevin Youkilis, who had not made an error all season, charged for it, with second baseman Dustin Pedroia also in pursuit. Youkilis slipped on the soggy field, then Pedroia slipped into him, and the ball popped up, then out of Youkilis's glove.
It gave Cabrera new life, and he used it to drill a line drive up the middle. Instinctively, Wakefield stuck out his glove and deflected the ball. It rolled harmlessly to the side of the mound and Cabrera had an RBI single instead of a potential double-play ground ball. By the time that inning ended, that tight 1-0 game was a 7-0 laugher.
"One little thing can change everything," observed Boston third baseman Mike Lowell. "That ball Cabrera hit, Dustin Pedroia was right there. If we can get a double play, then it's still 1-0 and who knows? Instead, we're in a hole."
Boston dug out of that hole Thursday night, and Josh Beckett provided the shovel. He was dominant, ornery, and merciless, and by the time he was done, old momentum was making eyes at the Sox pitcher.
So now the series shifts back to Fenway, and it's the Indians who suddenly have questions. How come Sabathia couldn't win one? When will Travis Hafner hit? Can anyone get Manny Ramírez out?
The Red Sox are aware the Indians eliminated the Yankees in New York. They are a well-managed, balanced team with excellent pitching. But suddenly, it feels as though Boston has the upper hand again.
The great Earl Weaver was fond of saying, "Momentum is tomorrow's starting pitcher."
He is right. Tonight, Boston will pin its hopes on an old gunslinger, Curt Schilling, who desperately wants to prove he still has bullets left in his postseason holster. Cleveland comes in believing its young gun, Fausto Carmona, who was ineffective in Game 2 (four runs and five walks in four innings), will not repeat that performance.
Momentum, fresh off a plane from Coors Field, will arrive at Fenway, relax in its recliner, and wait for someone to sway the proceedings one way or another.
There's no point in trying to influence momentum. It has no loyalty, no agenda, no sentimental attachments.
It simply follows the hot team, paisley curtains in tow.
Jackie MacMullan is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at macmullan@globe.com.
