Footnotes in Sox History

We are clearly at the epicenter of the most dynamic Red Sox interest explosion in history. And as if the current hysteria wasn’t at a high enough level, we have Matsuzaka Mania about to strike and take things to new, unimagined heights. In the past five years, everything the Sox do is documented, discussed and dissected on radio, TV and online. All information is available 24/7.

But as is usually the case in this era of information overload and instant gratification, all the information is of recent vintage. Over the years, many traditions and tidbits regarding Boston baseball have slowly faded away and are no longer common knowledge to the noveau-Sox fans. I felt it was my duty to rectify that by cataloguing some interesting facts of Sox days gone by that might be of interest to today’s citizens of Sox Nation.

For anyone over the age of 45, much of this list will resurrect youthful memories following the Sox. For those of you younger that that, well, think of this as arcane trivia you can spring on an unsuspecting friend to win a beer in a bar bet. Either way, enjoy.

Seven Footnotes in Red Sox History

1. Scottsdale, Arizona. This one is particularly apropos as we begin another spring training. Anyone under age 25 only knows Fort Myers as the spring home of the Sox. If you are 40 or under, you will remember that prior to the move to their present home in 1993, the Sox played their spring training games at Chain-O-Lakes Park in Winter Haven, Florida. But you’d have to be pushing the half century mark to remember that in the early sixties, the Sox spent the months of February and March playing in the Cactus League in Scottsdale Arizona. From 1955 to 1966, Teddy Ballgame, Yaz and then Tony C. spent their springs in the Arizona desert. For extra bonus points, you can throw out that the Sox most exotic spring training locale was Medford, Massachusetts, where the home town team trained from 1943-45 during World War II.

2. Patriot’s Day Doubleheader. Everyone knows that the Sox annually have the earliest starting time in all of baseball with their 11 am game on Patriot’s Day. (This year the time has been moved up even further, to 10 am in conjunction with an earlier Boston Marathon start.) But have you ever wondered why the early start? For many years, the Sox played a double header on Patriot’s Day, which occurred on April 19 regardless of which day of the week that happened to be. (This was before the convenient Monday holiday was invented.) The first game would start at 11 am in order for it to end in time for the fans to get to Kenmore Square to watch the lead Marathoners gasp through. After watching the race for a bit, the fans would go back into the park for “the nightcap” another ancient term for the second game of a doubleheader. Obviously this tradition could never be resurrected since no one plays doubleheaders anymore. Even if they did, with the way hitters work the pitchers now, fans hanging in for the four hour first game would get to Kenmore in time to watch Johnny from Burger King passing through.

3. Bat Day. It’s hard to imagine for those of you who have spent hours in the seventh ring of hell known as the Red Sox Virtual Waiting room trying to get obstructed view tickets to an April night game against Kansas City, but in the sixties, the Sox actually had empty seats at Fenway. Lots of them, actually. In order to put fannies in those seats, the team used to run quaint little events called “promotions”. If you have satellite radio or have heard broadcasts from other teams, you may have heard of these. The team actually offers something of value to fans to get people to buy tickets. I heard one for Tampa Bay where they offered free Devil Ray duffle bags to the first 10,000 fans into the park. Well the Sox actually had to do these in the sixties and the best one as far as us kids were concerned was Bat Day. Every kid that was able to get a ticket to the game was given a Louisville Slugger bat autographed (well stamped actually) by a Red Sox player (I still remember my Jose Tartabull model. The little right fielder was a .261 lifetime so having his bat perfectly matched the futility of my “career”.). These were not the silly little mini bats you see today, but full sized versions that we would actually take home and use in our pickup games. In fact this was the only way most of us would ever get a bat. It was usually a Saturday afternoon game (remember those) and kids would look to fathers, uncles, Little League coaches or whoever to get to those games and get their bats. The best scene happened somewhere in the middle of the game when Sherm Feller would announce Bat Day and tell everyone to raise their bats. A forest of wooden bats would spring up and cover the whole park. It was an awesome sight. And no one whacked each other with the bats either. Today, the government would mandate that helmets be handed out with each bat.

4. Curt Gowdy, Ken Coleman & Ned Martin. My boys have often been subjected to me cursing like a maniac at the car radio during a Sox game. Whether it’s Joe and Jerry going for long stretches of time before giving a score or Joe announcing a routine flyball like it’s about to bounce off the Prudential tower these two are among the worst broadcasters ever. Thank God Trup - who I am sure is a decent family man and nice guy but just a terrible announcer – has finally been let go. I finally realized my problem is that I was spoiled growing up by having the Sox games described to me by three of the best ever to speak into a microphone – Curt Gowdy, Ken Coleman and Ned Martin. Gowdy started his career in Boston and in the mid sixties left for NBC where he became one of the top network announcer doing baseball, football, basketball , the Olympics and anything else they handed him. Coleman took over for him and had the honor of taking us through the magical Impossible Dream summer of 1967. Ned Martin started as Gowdy’s color man and went on to do play by play both on the radio and TV through the early nineties. They were the best. Interesting side note. In the sixties, WHDH owned the radio and TV rights to the Sox, so they used the the same three man team of announcers to do both. First it was Gowdy, Martin and Mel Parnell, a former Sox pitcher who trained at the Grady Little School of Speaking Like You Have A Mouth Full of Marbles. Then it was Coleman, Martin and Parnell. Gowdy would do the first three innings on TV while Martin did the radio. In the fourth inning, Curt would go to “the radio side” and Martin would come and do the TV. Talk about cost containment.

5. Gansett Beer. Speaking of broadcasts, one of the main sponsors of the Sox in the sixties was Narragansett Lager Beer, brewed locally in Rhode Island. Their tag line was “Hi, neighbor, Have a Gansett." Their most memorable commercials were a series of clever cartoons extolling the virtues of Gansett in a comical way. One featured the famous Parakeet Bar, another featured a dog who helped his owner win a bet - and a Gansett - by being able to talk. Another featured a cowboy who came into a bar and tried to buy a beer for himself and his horse. I actually found this one on YouTube. Click and take a look back at what television advertising was like forty years ago. I think they were ahead of their time.

6. The Jimmy Fund Game. Before interleague play, the only time you got to see a National League team was on NBC's Game of the Week or in the World Series. You could see some of the National League players in the Allstar Game. For Sox fans, there was one other time. That was the annual Jimmy Fund exhibition game between the Red Sox and the Milwaukee and then Atlanta Braves. The Braves actually started the Jimmy Fund but when they left Boston in the late fifties, the Red Sox took it over as their official charity. Once a year, usually in June, during an off day for both team, the Braves would come to Fenway to play the Sox with the proceeds going to the Jimmy Fund. It was only an exhibition, but both teams played to win. The big Braves' sluggers of the time – Hank Aaron, Eddie Matthews, Joe Adcock and Rico Carty fairly drooled when they got a glimpse of the short left field wall. They really enjoyed batting practice and spent the whole game trying to jerk the ball into the net over the left field wall (by the way...the net will be the younger generation’s footnote in a few years).

7. The Plain Road Grays. Up until the mid-seventies, the Red Sox road uniforms were as colorful as prison garb. Flannel gray, with dark, navy blue block letters proclaiming “Boston” on the front and a plain dark block number on the back. The only red on the entire uniform was the red stripe at the top of the old stirrup hose the Sox used to wear. Most players pulled up their socks so high, that the color was invisible, so the only hint of red was in the “B” on the cap. In the mid seventies, the Sox switched to fashionable double knits and added the same typeface for “Boston” as they used for “Red Sox” on their home unis. They added the red around the type and trim and the belted area of the pants. No buttons, these babies were pull over v neck jobs. Take a look at some old pictures of the 75 World Series to get an idea of what these looked like. In the early eighties, they actually switched back to the plain road grays for a while (see a weeping Wade Boggs in the dugout following Game Six in the 1986 World Series.) In the early nineties they adopted the road uniforms they wear today complete with names on the back. I bet they’re a lot less itchy than the old ones.

Okay. Enough nostalgia. I don’t know why, but useless trivia like that intrigues me so I had to get it out of my system. Now back to the future. Pitchers and Catchers and 4000 media members from Japan report today and Spring Training is officially under way. Spring is here.