Fenway fantasies come true

Minor leaguers take to big stage

Sean Danielson's friends like to make crank calls.

They are the type to call his cellphone from an unavailable number and tell him the Cardinals, who took a chance on the small, scrappy outfielder and signed him as an undrafted free agent in 2005, were going to trade him to the team that won the World Series in 2007.

So when that unknown number flashed across his cell last fall, he blew it off.

"Me, get traded," said Danielson, his .291 batting average at Triple A Springfield pulsing through. "There's no chance I'm getting traded."

Then he got another phone call the next day. From the Red Sox. They traded Joel Pineiro to get him. They didn't need Danielson until after the World Series, but they wanted him to catch a game, take in the big league environment. They sent him to Colorado for Game 4.

"I got to see what the fans are like," he said of the Fenway faithful who followed the Red Sox to Coors Field. "How much they love the team."

The unspoken was that maybe one day the Pawtucket outfielder would get a chance to play in front of those same fans at Fenway Park.

Yesterday, Danielson got a glimpse of his dream. It was his first time at Fenway, and even though it was temporary, it was special.

For the third straight year, the Sox loaned Fenway Park to two of its farm teams, the Lowell Spinners and the Pawtucket Red Sox, for "Futures at Fenway."

Sometimes days like yesterday remind players of what they're playing for.

"It's a chance to play in a stadium that I might get a chance to play in down the road," said Pawtucket pitcher Beau Vaughan. "At the same time, it might be your only chance to play at a stadium like this."

Before beating the Charlotte Knights, 5-2, yesterday, the PawSox had played every night since the mid-July All-Star break. Lowell had a three-game losing streak chained to its ankles. Its 4-3 extra-inning win over the Hudson Valley Renegades was like overdosing on excitement after running the gauntlet of the mundane.

"If you don't watch yourself, monotony becomes something of a problem," Vaughan said. "You've got to find a way each day to try and reinvigorate yourself and be able to take a fresh outlook."

Playing at Fenway has a way of supersizing everything.

The crowd (36,234). The expectations. The jitters.

Tim Federowicz ran to the mound after three pitches trying to get Lowell's hard-throwing righthander, Stolmy Pimentel, to settle down.

Then again, the microscope's a little bigger, too.

Everyone's a prospect again. From Rafael Cabreja, David Ortiz's cousin on the smaller, speedier side of the family, to Mitch Dening, the Australian import who was used to playing in front of as few as 50 people before the Sox dug him from down under.

"It's people at home that would kill to be here right now," he said.

Some players are built for big moments. The ones that come four hours and three innings after the first pitch. They put their early-season struggles behind them, the hush of the crowd in their head, and they hit.

Some players are like Will Middlebrooks. The Red Sox poured $925,000 into the third baseman, who had the swagger of a state championship football player, the skill of a three-time punter, and the potential to be a big league third baseman one day.

Bases loaded, bottom of the 12th inning, Middlebrooks's heart was thumping , not just because he was at Fenway Park, but because the umpire stationed between the pitcher's mound and second base gave him a break on an ultra-close check-swing call.

He stroked a liner to center that didn't seem safe until it dropped in front of Anthony Scelfo, who had already eaten what looked like two game-winning singles. The celebration was supersized, a College World Series pig pile on a World Series diamond.

"Just being in this atmosphere, just the history here," Middlebrooks said. "You can feel it. Just to come in here and play and win a ballgame, it's a great feeling."

That feeling - the history of Fenway, the adrenaline of the game, the pressure of the situation, the relief that it finally ended - Middlebrooks felt all that.

Only, he said, "It's even better after the hit."