News

Cambridge Residents Slam Council Proposal to Delay Bike Lane Construction

News

‘Gender-Affirming Slay Fest’: Harvard College QSA Hosts Annual Queer Prom

News

‘Not Being Nerds’: Harvard Students Dance to Tinashe at Yardfest

News

Wrongful Death Trial Against CAMHS Employee Over 2015 Student Suicide To Begin Tuesday

News

Cornel West, Harvard Affiliates Call for University to Divest from ‘Israeli Apartheid’ at Rally

It's Sweetness and Light For Sox at City Hall Fete

SPORTS FEATURE

By Scott A. Kaufer

State Senator Joe Timilty wants to be mayor of Boston, but yesterday afternoon he also wanted to cheer the Red Sox, which presented something of a conflict.

The Red Sox were late for their own reception outside City Hall. Timilty, with places to go and flesh to press, was not sure he could wait for them. But he stood for a while in city hall plaza along with 45,000 other Sox fans, squinting up at the mezzanine-level terrace to catch a first glimpse of the almost world champions.

Finally, Timilty turned to an aide and said in a mock announcer's voice, "Sorry to keep you all waiting, but the Red Sox are listening to a long dissertation by the mayor." The aide laughed.

Most people who spent yesterday's lunch hour waiting to hail the Sox appeared in similar high spirits. Fans bought Red Sox pennants and waved them lazily in the blue-skied sunshine. Window washers, perched high on an old office building nearby, displayed a "Sox Still #1" sign. From the mezzanine came piped-in music, adding a festive air to what might have been a somber occasion.

When the Sox finally arrived just after 1 p.m., Timilty had moved on, but the thousands who remained broke into a sustained cheer. The noise grew louder as southpaw Bill Lee stepped forward, his Sox cap on backwards, his chin hidden by beard stubble, and raised a two-finger victory salute. Then Lee stepped back.

What the Thunder Said

"LOO-IE, LOO-IE," the crowd chanted, but Luis Tiant was not there--nor was Fred Lynn, Carlton Fisk, Jim Rice, Denny Doyle, Bernie Carbo or Rico Petrocelli. Their off-season had already begun.

Instead, the crowd got Mayor Kevin White (who gushed that "The Boston Red Sox won the heart of Boston") and Governor Michael S. Dukakis (who the fans roundly booed, as they did last April on opening day.)

Then, with radio announcer Ned Martin making the introductions, a succession of Sox--some favorites, many forgotten--stepped forward to say a few words.

Manager Darrell Johnson said the Sox were a great team, lucky enough to play "in the greatest area of all." The crowd cheered.

Ned Martin introduced Carl Yastrzemski and the crowd cheered again.

Yax wore sunglasses and looked ashen. He spoke slowly. "Standing here before you is one of the greatest thrills I've had," he said. He promised the Sox would return to win a World Series, and the crowd roared again. Standing near Yaz, Darrell Johnson smoked a cigarette and looked very much like Gary Cooper.

"I'd like to apologize for striking out with the bases loaded," said a genuinely repentent Rick Burleson. The crowd indicated that all was forgiven.

"But I'd give anything," Burleson said, "to be able to play against those guys again tonight." With that, he tearfully turned away from the microphones.

"You'll play them again," said Ned Martin.

A coach said the Sox "wound up, I guess you would say, the second greatest team in baseball."

"NO!" the crowd yelled, playing the Greek chorus.

Bob Heise, Doug Griffin and the pitching coach, Stan Williams, all came forward to say how great the Sox are and how great the Boston fans are and how great an honor it is...

And the crowd cheered at every opportunity, until Ned Martin had only one player left to introduce. "The space cowboy from California...," Martin said, and the plaza rocked with applause.

Bill Lee stepped forward with a Will Rogers, aw-shucks shuffle. He grinned. It was a beautiful day, and the fans who had ridden him only several weeks earlier, when he couldn't seem to do anything right, were cheering him now. He had pitched two fine World Series games, even if he didn't win either.

The fans cheered, and Bill Lee might have thought about how the losers' share of the World Series purse isn't that much smaller than the winners', you know. And he might have thought about the off-season coming up, and all the time he'll have to spend the money and grow his beard and eat health food and avoid reporters. It could be worse.

So Bill Lee stepped up to the microphone and looked out over that huge gathering. "Uh," he said, "thank you." Lee paused. He shrugged. "Uh," he said, "What the heck?"

The fans cheered.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags