Bay provides some thunder
Boston’s everyman sparks a revival
Jason Bay emerged from his slump a different man last night. Or several different men.
For openers, Bay as Marcel Proust:
“You can’t really explain it. Sometimes the ball looks like a beach ball. And then there’s the exact opposite of that, where it looks like an aspirin coming out of a shotgun.’’
That home run that he hit last night, the slumpbuster, to the deepest part of the Monster in the second inning - that did not have “Excedrin’’ written on it.
Then, there was Bay as Johnny Carson.
“After that second steal,’’ Bay said, talking about his eighth of the season, “I told [Jacoby Ellsbury] I was gunning for him.’’
Ellsbury got his 36th steal last night. He knows his audience.
Then there is Bay, leading All-Star vote-getter for American League outfielders, consummate company man, consistently hard worker. Not to mention French novelist and American comedian.
What the Red Sox like best about him is that unrelenting work ethic. Their greatest tribute to Bay is supposed to be his personality’s impenetrability. If he was slumping, he wasn’t supposed to show it in the locker room. His reemergence would be on-field only. If his life was a movie, it would be “Groundhog Day,’’ and he would be anyone but Bill Murray.
Manager Terry Francona joked at the end of his slump, right after he moved Bay down to fifth in the lineup for a game against the Mariners last week, that the reason the Sox liked Bay so much was because they couldn’t tell when he was slumping.
“There’s nothing different about him,’’ said Francona. “He’s never very loud.’’
But if the Jason Bay of two weeks ago - the one who saw his average dip to .259 - is the Common Man, the Jason Bay of now is the Most Common Man. Or several common men.
If baseball had a Renaissance man - a guy who is constantly working on everything - it would be Bay.
Those stolen bases - what probably looks like gravy on a 2 for 3, eight total base night - are actually calculated.
“That’s something I’d been working on. I know I can’t go on maybes. I have to go on very likelies,’’ Bay said.
The home run? With that swing, that power, Francona knew it was coming soon. Even if Bay hadn’t hit one in 48 at-bats.
“He’s a strong, strong kid,’’ said Francona. “That was a good swing. Now we’ve just got to get guys going at the same time.’’
If Francona turned that compliment into a way to try to stimulate his trodden offense a little, that’s probably on purpose, too.
Because Bay has become the example in left field.
“Today was probably the most comfortable I’ve felt in a while. You’ve just got to ride the hot streaks and manage the cold streaks,’’ he said. “Everybody goes through that.’’
Of course, Bay isn’t everybody. As much as he wants you to believe it.
Ben Collins can be reached at bcollins@globe.com 