February 17 was a different day for Tim Wakefield. The Red Sox pitcher took the field in Fort Myers; just like he did every fifth day at Fenway Park for the better part of two decades. Only this time, Wakefield's number 49 jersey was visibly absent. Instead, he was dressed in a suit fitting for a wake. He gave a visibly difficult speech and battled back tears for almost the entire press conference, even cracking just slightly at the hardest part.
When Wakefield announced that he would be retiring from the wonderful game of baseball.
For Wakefield, an announcement that took less than a minute brought back a slew of memories from the past 17 years as a Red Sox pitcher. The knuckleball that baffled opposing hitters. The uplifting feeling of winning a World Series for a franchise that had not won a championship in a lifetime. The dejected emotions that accompanied a terrible pitch in 2003 that landed somewhere in Queens. The culmination of his individual success in a blowout win against the Toronto Blue Jays. These memories were milestones for different reasons, and Wakefield took everything on the field in stride.
There were the first two years of Wakefield's career when he pitched for the Pittsburgh Pirates. The then 25 year old won eight games as a rookie and came in third for the National League rookie of the year. But ask anyone from Kenmore to Revere about what team Wakefield played for and the individual usually ignores the 1992 and 1993 seasons. In terms of legacy, Wakefield will be remembered as a Boston Red Sox.
The 45 year old had a good career with the Red Sox. Wakefield's 186 wins with the Red Sox were the third most in the franchise's history. He struck out 2,046 batters in Beantown. And he threw for over 3,000 innings between stints in the bullpen and starting. His best individual season was in his first year with the Red Sox. Wakefield went 16-8 with a 2.95 earned run average and stuck out 119 batters; and finished third in the AL Cy Young race. Wakefield's numbers were not Hall of Fame worthy by any means, yet he was consistent. He was good to the Red Sox and their fans; who were in turn good to him, even after 2003.
Game 7 of the American League Championship Series was a titanic battle that lasted well past midnight. The Red Sox and Yankees were in Yankee Stadium vying for their shot to go to the World Series. Wakefield came out of the bullpen to pitch in the bottom of the 10th inning. Up to the plate stood Aaron Boone, an average player who was about to have an historic moment for some, and incredibly painful for others. The first knuckleball that Wakefield threw ended the Red Sox season. It was a playoff blunder that was right up there with Bill Buckner and Bucky bleeping Dent; coincidentally Aaron Boone received a distinguished middle name in Boston after that night. Yet the man who threw the pitch was spared the wrath of the (predominantly) Irish. Instead, then manager Grady Little was run out of Boston.
The very next season, Wakefield and the rest of the Boston Red Sox went to the World Series. And the man who pitched in the Red Sox first championship appearance since 1986 was the man who surrendered the historic home run: Wakefield. The knuckleballer did not win that first game, but as usual, he gave his team a chance to win. And win that team did. The 2004 Red Sox will be forever remembered as those who purged the curse of the Bambio, a jinx that had haunted the franchise for the better part of a century. Wakefield may not ever have a plaque in Cooperstown, but his place on that team of lore will never be taken away.
As members of the 04 Red Sox departed for other pastures, Wakefield stayed. Even when his name faded from the rotation in place of younger talent. Even though his knuckleball did not quite knuckle like it used to. Even when the rings stopped comming and a historic collapse this past season, Wakefield was omnipresent in the locker room. And Boston fans, and teammates did not ignore that.
Wakefield's dedication to the Red Sox made career win number 200 all the more special to him. On September 14, in front of the fans that praised and forgave him, Wakefield got the milestone on his eighth try.
The game itself was close throughout and the knuckleballer was far from perfect, but he left the sixth inning with a lead. When he left, the Sox offense proceeded to beat the Blue Jays into submission to give Wakefield the win he deserved.
The news of Wakefield's retirement was a just a passing blip on the national radar, but it mattered in Boston. A player who was never spectacular in anything he did was appreciated for just that. Wakefield never got a former girlfriend pregnant and left her. Or refused to go to the White House because of the way that this country is being run. Or been found guilty of taking steroids. Wakefield was exceptional in the way that he was approachable both on and off the field. Nobody ever had a bad thing to say about Wakefield, even when the rest of the team was in shambles.
As he uttered those difficult words, Wakefield glanced up towards the camera for a second. In that one look, the nation saw, if only for a moment, what Red Sox nation always knew was there. A player who genuinely cared about the team so much it pained him to leave it. The kind of athlete who shared the love that we have for our teams. And a man who, like his signature pitch, was special for being ordinary.
The very next season, Wakefield and the rest of the Boston Red Sox went to the World Series. And the man who pitched in the Red Sox first championship appearance since 1986 was the man who surrendered the historic home run: Wakefield. The knuckleballer did not win that first game, but as usual, he gave his team a chance to win. And win that team did. The 2004 Red Sox will be forever remembered as those who purged the curse of the Bambio, a jinx that had haunted the franchise for the better part of a century. Wakefield may not ever have a plaque in Cooperstown, but his place on that team of lore will never be taken away.
As members of the 04 Red Sox departed for other pastures, Wakefield stayed. Even when his name faded from the rotation in place of younger talent. Even though his knuckleball did not quite knuckle like it used to. Even when the rings stopped comming and a historic collapse this past season, Wakefield was omnipresent in the locker room. And Boston fans, and teammates did not ignore that.
Wakefield's dedication to the Red Sox made career win number 200 all the more special to him. On September 14, in front of the fans that praised and forgave him, Wakefield got the milestone on his eighth try.
The game itself was close throughout and the knuckleballer was far from perfect, but he left the sixth inning with a lead. When he left, the Sox offense proceeded to beat the Blue Jays into submission to give Wakefield the win he deserved.
The news of Wakefield's retirement was a just a passing blip on the national radar, but it mattered in Boston. A player who was never spectacular in anything he did was appreciated for just that. Wakefield never got a former girlfriend pregnant and left her. Or refused to go to the White House because of the way that this country is being run. Or been found guilty of taking steroids. Wakefield was exceptional in the way that he was approachable both on and off the field. Nobody ever had a bad thing to say about Wakefield, even when the rest of the team was in shambles.
As he uttered those difficult words, Wakefield glanced up towards the camera for a second. In that one look, the nation saw, if only for a moment, what Red Sox nation always knew was there. A player who genuinely cared about the team so much it pained him to leave it. The kind of athlete who shared the love that we have for our teams. And a man who, like his signature pitch, was special for being ordinary.
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