Coco Crisp slides around Texas catcher Taylor Teagarden to score a sixth-inning run. Crisp had two hits and two runs.
(Tony Gutierrez/Associated Press)
ARLINGTON, Texas - Uncertainty froze Paul Byrd during his walk off the mound at Rangers Ballpark yesterday, when he watched fans behind the visitor's dugout rise and cheer. Should he tip his cap? Wave? Smile and head to the clubhouse? He never had been cheered so lustily, for pitching so well, so far away from home.
He appreciated the roars, of course, in part because they represented how much his season has transformed. After wallowing with the Cleveland Indians for the first half of the season, producing dreadful numbers for a team bound for irrelevancy, Byrd finds himself not only in the midst of a playoff race, but helping to decide it.
Byrd earned his fourth consecutive win yesterday in a 7-2 Red Sox victory with his sharpest performance since coming to Boston Aug. 12. He threw 6 2/3 innings and he allowed no runs on three hits and three walks. He escaped his lone rough patch, a two-out, bases-loaded jam in the third, by striking out Michael Young on three pitches.
Rangers Ballpark always had bedeviled Byrd because of a sour combination - the ball carries here as if it's full of helium, and he makes his living on fly-ball outs. His urgency to keep the ball down had heightened after his last start, when he escaped at Fenway Park despite surrendering three home runs.
Byrd felt himself standing too tall as he delivered pitches in his last start. Yesterday, he hunched down as he released the ball and drove toward home plate. The adjustment led to only five ground ball outs, but his pitches "took the sting out of bats," Red Sox manager Terry Francona said. He spotted sliders on both sides of the plate and battered the strike zone with fastballs.
"It's easier said than done," Byrd said. "It's one of those when you look a lot smarter when you can execute the pitches."
Byrd, though, salvaged his season doing exactly that. On July 9, his record had sunk to 3-10, his ERA had ballooned to 5.47, and his team had bottomed out. "The games didn't mean anything for a while," he said. Opposing hitters clobbered his pitches with embarrassing regularity, hitting .296 off him. He pitched past the sixth inning four times in 18 starts.
Byrd distilled his struggles into three problems: His pitches had become too predictable, he sailed too many of them high, and his curveball looped too lazily toward the plate.
He tinkered with his windup, lifting his hands directly over his head, which allows him to stay lower when he drives the ball toward the plate. He noticed batters recognizing his pitches far too easily and worried he was tipping his pitches, so Byrd changed the way he held the ball in his glove.
Byrd still needed to fix his curveball. The Minnesota Twins visited Cleveland, and Byrd conjured an opportunity. He spotted Bert Blyleven, there broadcasting, walking through the Indians clubhouse.
Byrd cornered Blyleven, unsure whether the 287-game winner would be willing to help. Blyleven obliged. They sat and chatted, Blyleven dispensing tips, Byrd sponging them. Fifteen minutes later, Byrd had a new curveball.
"It was all of a sudden a competitive pitch," Byrd said. "Before, it was just a show-me pitch, maybe a first-pitch strike. Just lazy. It wasn't very good. Now, it's sharp. It's harder. It's a usable pitch. I'm excited, because I don't feel so naked against lefthanders."
The changes Byrd made nearly two months ago, pitching for a team miles from contention, may help define the American League's postseason hierarchy. He is 8-1 in his last nine starts, a stretch during which his ERA is 2.61 and opponents have hit .241 against him.
His burst carried over to Boston in part because of how quickly he and catcher Jason Varitek meshed. "We're jelling really good right now," Byrd said. In only five starts, Varitek awed Byrd with how much he devotes to a pitcher's success. The way Varitek calls the game, Byrd said, further unlocks the value of his new curve.
"When you've had some success," Varitek said, "then you develop trust."
As Byrd spoke with a reporter in the clubhouse, Varitek strode past, headed to his stall. Varitek offered his fist, and Byrd bumped it. They had last met on the mound as Byrd handed Francona the ball, his job well done, but one more difficult task ahead.
"I didn't know whether to tip my hat or what to do," Byrd said. "I didn't know if the Rangers were going to be mad at me if I do so. It was a really nice feeling."
Adam Kilgore can be reached at akilgore@globe.com ![]()


