Jason Bay's first postseason hit - a two-run homer in the sixth against the Angels - was a winner for the Red Sox.
(Jim Davis/Globe Staff)
ANAHEIM, Calif. - Jason Bay has never met Manny Ramírez. Bay played against Ramírez three times in 2005 for the Pittsburgh Pirates, with whom he became baseball's least-known star. Their planes may have passed each other July 31, the day Bay arrived in Boston as part of the trade that shipped Ramírez to the Los Angeles Dodgers.
For a man with whom he shared such a limited connection, Ramírez has hovered over Bay the past two months. No matter how often Bay insisted he was not Manny Ramírez, he was the player chosen to patrol left field for the Red Sox after Ramírez's exit. Bay's success in Boston - which culminated Wednesday night with his winning home run in Game 1 of the American League Division Series, a 4-1 decision over the Angels - hinged on his capacity to never allow Ramírez, or what he had accomplished, to define him.
"I don't really know what I'm trying to replace," Bay said. "I see him on TV and I know he's doing well. But for the most part, it's just myself.
"The comparisons are going to be there. I understand that. That's not by my doing, but I understand it - it's right there. There's really nothing I can do about it. If there was some quantifiable, something I could actually do, maybe I would try to do that. I know I'm not going to hit 50 home runs. I know that. So that makes it easier."
Even before the first playoff game of his career, Bay could not fully escape Ramírez. As the Red Sox warmed up, the videoboard towering over center field of Angel Stadium showed the Dodgers playing the Chicago Cubs. Ramírez blasted a shoelace-high pitch over Wrigley Field's wall, an improbable home run.
Bay, steadfast, vowed he was not trying to replace a surefire Hall of Famer each time a reporter broached the topic. The temptation to do so was constant. But Bay stuck to his assertion that not once had he felt any strain about following Ramírez.
"Never," said Sean Casey, who played for the Pirates with Bay in 2006. "He understood who he is. And he's OK with that. He's not going to be Manny Ramírez. If anyone could handle it, it was Jason Bay."
Bay grew up in Trail, British Columbia. He played hockey, like almost every Canadian boy, but baseball grabbed him. He played two years at North Idaho Community College and finished his career at Gonzaga. The Montreal Expos selected him in the 22d round of the 2000 draft. "They gave me a plane ticket and said, 'Here you go,' " Bay said. Three teams traded him before he escaped the minor leagues.
"It probably wasn't the easiest road here," Bay said. "I wouldn't change it for anything, because I think it has a lot to do with the character I have."
Teammates said Bay settled into the clubhouse immediately, his personality meshing naturally.
"He's kind of a hockey player at heart," Dustin Pedroia said. "He's fun to be around." He cracks up the Red Sox when they least expect it with his dry humor. On Wednesday, after he badly struck out in his first two at-bats, he joked, "That's a big part of my game."
His clubhouse demeanor would have meant little without his production. Bay languished with the Pirates for five full seasons, not once sniffing contention while producing impressive numbers. Bay this season eclipsed 30 home runs and 100 RBIs for the third time.
"That means you're one of the elite players in the game," third baseman Mike Lowell said. "What gets lost is, we didn't just get a filler for Manny. We got a good player. We weren't looking to have a guy just slap the ball around. That's not his track record."
Bay delivered, hitting .293 with nine home runs and 37 RBIs in 49 games. (He ignored Ramírez's stats over the same period, which boggled the mind: .396, 17, 53.) He quickly mastered playing the Wall at Fenway Park, not committing an error.
Still, questions remained. Ramírez was the 2004 World Series MVP; Bay had never played in a meaningful game after July. Coming from "the situation that I was in, every game from August to the end of September felt like a playoff game," Bay said. "I could ease into it."
Bay savored the intensity, something he had never experienced. "It's something I was missing," he said.
Bay was "not quite relaxed" when he came to the plate in the sixth inning Wednesday. John Lackey had oppressed the Red Sox to that point, no one more than Bay, who had never faced Lackey previously. Lackey struck him out twice, buzzing fastballs by him and fooling him with curves in the dirt.
Lackey started Bay with another curveball in the sixth, and he watched strike one. Lackey fired a fastball that, unlike his others, zipped over the outside edge of home plate, chest-high.
"Jason got one pitch," Pedroia said. "And he didn't miss it."
The ball soared over the Angels' bullpen and nearly over the Red Sox' - "a bomb," Lowell said. Bay rounded the bases and exchanged a double high-five with Lowell, who was coming to bat next. Bay had been the hero in the first playoff game he played. ("I'm kind of reluctant to go with hero after one game," he said.)
The performance, though, served as a testament to why he has succeeded. He dealt with the pressure of replacing Ramírez by shrugging his shoulders and never confronting it. He struck out in the first two postseason at-bats of his career, and he shed them just as easily.
"You still get four at-bats," Bay said. "I could have easily folded up after that. I didn't."
Adam Kilgore can be reached at akilgore@globe.com.![]()


