Terry Francona doesn't use long relievers

Boof Bonser arrived in Fort Myers -- well, actually, he never really left Fort Myers -- with an eye on breaking into a Red Sox bullpen with space for just an arm like his. He's been a starting pitcher throughout his career but almost certainly won't be a starting pitcher with the Red Sox unless something goes terribly, terribly wrong.

His background as a starting pitcher, though, makes him a natural fit as a Justin Masterson-esque long reliever, a guy who can eat up three or four innings out of the bullpen in a lopsided game to preserve the bullpen for another day. The Red Sox even will stretch him out as a starter this spring so they'll have the option of using him for multiple innings once the season begins.

Here's the only problem: Terry Francona doesn't use long relievers.

Since his arrival in 2004, Francona has been less and less inclined to use relief pitchers for more than two innings at a time. When Brad Penny got shelled by the Cleveland Indians in late April, sent to the showers in the third inning, Francona used five relief pitchers to finish the game. Only Hunter Jones pitched more than one inning of relief, and even Jones was done after the fifth inning.

Granted, the Red Sox will tend to use long relievers less often because their pitchers tend to pitch deeper into games. A day Josh Beckett starts doesn't tend to be a day any relief pitcher needs to pitch more than one inning. But even comparing the Red Sox to the Yankees, another team that doesn't often need pitchers to do mop-up work, reveals a tendency to spread the workload out:

(For the sake of simplicity, a "long relief appearance" will be defined as a relief appearance lasting three innings or more. All statistics from Baseball-Reference.com's Play Index tool.)

2004
Average American League team: 16.5
Yankees long relief appearances: 16
Red Sox long relief appearances: 6

2005
Average American League team: 14.1
Red Sox long relief appearances: 9
Yankees long relief appearances: 9

2006
Average American League team: 15.1
Yankees long relief appearances: 13
Red Sox long relief appearances: 8

2007
Average American League team: 14.4
Yankees long relief appearances: 10
Red Sox long relief appearances: 3

2008
Yankees long relief appearances: 13
Average American League team: 11.8
Red Sox long relief appearances: 3

2009
Yankees long relief appearances: 19
Average American League team: 12.7
Red Sox long relief appearances: 5

In other words, Francona has asked a relief pitcher to go three or more innings less often in the last three years combined (11) than the average American League team did last season alone (12.7).

Even when he has a starting pitcher who doesn't eat up innings -- and Red Sox starters have failed to get out of the fifth inning at least 20 times in each of the last four seasons -- Francona has shown a tendency to use his relief pitchers in short stints rather than ask one or two guys to finish out the game.

Francona asked his relievers to get more than three outs in an appearance 162 times in 2005. That even was with a team whose starting pitchers averaged 6.2 innings per start, better than its starters have fared in any season since. A year later, that number had tumbled all the way down to 100. It hasn't been back above 125 yet.

Masterson, the quintessential long reliever, made only two relief appearances last season of three innings or longer:
* He relieved the injured Daisuke Matsuzaka in Oakland just a couple of weeks removed from spring training, pitching four full innings;
* He relieved Matsuzaka again in the starter's first game back from the disabled list, pitching three full innings.

That's it. Masterson made 25 relief appearances for the Red Sox before he was traded for Victor Martinez. Only two of those lasted three innings or more, and both of those were directly related to the health of Matsuzaka. Everything else was in short stints.

When a line drive knocked Jon Lester out of a game at Yankee Stadium in late September, Hunter Jones and Michael Bowden only pitched a combined 3 1/3 innings of relief before giving way to Manny Delcarmen and Ramon Ramirez. Bowden, don't forget, had spent the entire season as a starting pitcher -- but Francona only asked him to pitch 2 1/3 innings before he called for Delcarmen.

This isn't meant as a criticism. Francona certainly has earned the benefit of the doubt in his handling of his bullpen.

This simply is meant as a little perspective on what Bonser realistically is going to bring to the table for the Red Sox. The former Minnesota starter will have to earn a roster spot based on what he can do in one- or two-inning stints. His ability to eat up innings out of the bullpen might be a useful skill -- but it's not going to be put to much use in Boston.

Cameron, Francona go way back

Terry Francona first met Mike Cameron almost 20 years ago in Sarasota, Fla., when the manager was starting his first post-playing job as the hitting coach of the Chicago White Sox's Gulf Coast League affiliate and the outfielder was an 18-year-old who had just been selected in the 18th round of the amateur draft.

(Among other 18th-rounders from that 1991 draft: Bobby Higginson, Kirk Rueter and Ron Mahay. Not a bad 18th round.)

"I saw his folks drop him off in Sarasota when he was about two weeks out of high school," Francona said with a smirk. "I believe, and I might be wrong, that they gave him a computer and made him promise to work on it every night."

Francona then was 32 years old. His oldest child, Nick, had just turned six years old. He was just learning how to be a parent -- and he was charged, in a lot of ways, with being a surrogate parent to the 17- and 18-year olds on his roster.

"He always used to tell us that if you can’t figure this out now, a little bit of it now, you’ll be one of the prime candidates to be working at 7-11," Cameron said. "I’ll always remember that."

Said Francona, "I’ve thrown to him in the cage almost more than is humanly possible."

Francona was the manager who, four years later, broke the news to Cameron that the White Sox had summoned him from Double-A Birmingham to the major leagues. Cameron was hitting .249 and had hit 11 home runs in 350 at-bats with the Barons to that point, and a call to the major leagues was the last thing on his mind.

"I thought I was in trouble, and he told me I was going to the big leagues," Cameron said. "I almost had a heart attack."

Francona had a chance to get reacquainted with Cameron on Wednesday when the Gold Glove outfielder signed a two-year contract to play with Francona's Red Sox. Cameron now is 36 years old. He's older than Francona was when the two first met. He's played parts of 15 season in the major leagues.

He even has three kids of his own. When news began to spread that he'd agreed to a contract with the Red Sox on Monday evening, Cameron was at a basketball game to watch Dazmon, his 12-year-old son.

It was enough to make a manager feel pretty old.

"I’ve seen him go from a raw, very athletic likeable 18-year-old to a guy who’s played and had a great career," Francona said. "We’re excited to have him here. What he does in the outfield and what he does at the plate, you can see. What he brings besides that is going to be very welcome."

Rest part of reason for Lester-Beckett choice

Terry Francona tried to tell reporters he'd chosen Jon Lester over Josh Beckett to start Game 1 of the American League Division Series because the starting rotation just happened to fall that way naturally.

"When you look at how our rotation was set up -- and Beckett knows we feel this way, because for us to get where we want to go, we're going to have to lean on both of them -- to flip-flop then around would have meant one guy was on normal rest and another guy was on 10 (days' rest)," Francona told reporters after Sunday's game.

That, though, is a cop-out. When the Red Sox scratched Beckett from his start last Monday, they could have inserted him back into the rotation whenever they wanted. They could have pitched him on Wednesday, for example, and then had him ready to pitch on six or seven days' rest in Game 1. Instead, they skipped his turn entirely and didn't bring him back until Saturday -- ensuring he was lined up between Lester and Clay Buchholz.

But when he started talking about Lester and Beckett pitching in Game 4 and Game 5, potentially, he started making much more sense.

You have to assume the Yankees will choose the Wednesday start to force the Detroit/Minnesota winner to turn around and play in New York the day after a one-game playoff in the Twin Cities. That hands the Red Sox this schedule:

Thursday: Lester (six days' rest)
Friday: Beckett (five days)
Sunday: Buchholz (six days)
Monday: Daisuke Matsuzaka (nine days) or Lester (three days)
Wednesday: Lester (five days) or Beckett (four days)

The Game 4 starter, Francona hinted, would depend on how the series had progressed to that point. If the Red Sox lead 2-1 at that point, Matsuzaka probably would start. If the Red Sox trailed 2-1 and faced elimination, Lester probably would start.

"We think Lester is situated where he comes back on short rest (in Game 4), and that would have Beckett, if there's a Game 5, on regular rest," Francona said. "There are a lot of options that are open to us that we're interested in exploring."

Here's why: Jon Lester hasn't started on three days' rest in his major-league career. Josh Beckett has made one start on three days' rest -- but that was in 2004. There's not much you can take from that information.

Lester, though, has a far better track record on four days' rest than Beckett. Here's how the two break down in their career numbers:

Four days' rest
Beckett: 4.00 ERA (113 starts)
(In 2008, it was 4.57. In 2009, it was 4.73.)
Lester: 3.93 ERA (46 starts)
(In 2008, it was 2.91. In 2009, it was 3.99.)

Five days' rest
Beckett: 3.90 ERA (77 starts)
Lester: 3.13 ERA (30 starts)

Six days' rest
Beckett: 2.93 ERA (33 starts)
Lester: 3.94 ERA (14 starts)

If there's a guy you want to bring back on short rest, based on those numbers, it's probably Lester. If there's a guy to whom you want to give an extra day, it's probably Beckett.

Oh, and the fact remains that Lester has been a better pitcher all season than Beckett. He took longer to see his numbers reach an elite level -- in part because of horrendous luck -- but he still has a better strikeout ratio (10.0 per nine innings) than any pitcher in the major leagues other than Justin Verlander. He's earned that Game 1 start.

Projecting the ALDS roster

Theo Epstein and Terry Francona this week both deflected opportunities to make any type of announcement about the 25-man roster the Red Sox will take with them into the postseason. Those decisions, both said, will be made Monday or Tuesday, after the season, at a meeting likely to take place after the Red Sox arrive in Los Angeles in advance of Game 1.

There's no reason, though, why we can't go ahead and speculate.

Here, then, is a preliminary look at how the roster might shape up -- and this is independent of which schedule the Yankees choose to play:

Pitchers (10): Jon Lester, Josh Beckett, Clay Buchholz and Daisuke Matsuzaka; Daniel Bard, Hideki Okajima, Jonathan Papelbon, Ramon Ramirez, Takashi Saito and Billy Wagner.
The Red Sox, either way, are going to want four starting pitchers on their postseason roster. If they play the shorter of the two ALDS schedules, they'll need to start Matsuzaka. If they play the longer of the two ALDS schedules, they'll need a starting pitcher in reserve just in case: Imagine the nightmare scenario in which Jon Lester takes another line drive off the knee in Game 1, not only torching the bullpen but sidelining him for Game 4.

(The Red Sox could remove him from the roster and replace him, but he'd then be ineligible for the ALCS. If the injury was severe enough to cost him a start but not enough to cost him three starts, they wouldn't want to do that.)

The question, then, becomes how many relief pitchers the Red Sox will need. A year ago, they chose to go with 10 pitchers, total, with Paul Byrd as the long reliever and emergency starter. (He did not appear in a game.) There's no reason they'd change that number this year.

Both David Aardsma and Mike Timlin were left off the roster for the ALDS a year ago, but Timlin was added for the ALCS. It appears that the roller-coaster ride that is Manny Delcarmen will fill the same role: He'll keep throwing and be ready in case someone blows out an elbow during the ALDS, but he likely won't be on the roster until the ALCS.

Catchers (3): George Kottaras, Victor Martinez, Jason Varitek.
It might be tempting to go with just two catchers thanks to Martinez's flexibility, but it's far too risky: If Martinez were to sprain an ankle, the Red Sox would have just one true catcher on the roster. Kottaras might not play, but he's necessary insurance.

Infielders (6): Alex Gonzalez, Casey Kotchman, Mike Lowell, Jed Lowrie, Dustin Pedroia and Kevin Youkilis.
Lowrie earns the nod over Nick Green as a backup middle infielder both because he's healthier and because he's the better player. Green deserves all the praise that has come his way this season for helping the Red Sox tread water at shortstop, but if Lowrie is healthy enough, he should be the guy.

(Note: Gonzalez was hit by a pitch on Saturday night and removed from the game. If it's anything serious and Green still can't go, you might see Chris Woodward fill that spot.)

Outfielders (5): Rocco Baldelli, Jason Bay, J.D. Drew, Jacoby Ellsbury and Joey Gathright.
Leaving an extra pitcher off the roster means the Red Sox have the luxury of adding Gathright for late-inning substitutions -- he can fill the Dave Roberts pinch-running role, but he also could replace Bay in the outfield late in a close game.

Designated hitter (1): David Ortiz.
The guy has something of a postseason history, it seems.

Francona enjoyed a different celebration

Terry Francona got some odd looks this morning.

But it's only fair: There aren't many reasons the manager the Red Sox ought to be at a Residence Inn in Stafford, Va., checking out of his hotel room before the crack of dawn -- especially the morning after his team had clinched the American League's wild card back in Boston.

Suffice to say Francona didn't participate in the wild post-midnight celebration in the Fenway Park clubhouse. He ducked out of the park immediately after finishing his postgame media obligations and hopped a flight to Virginia in order to attend his son's graduation from the Marine Corps' officer training school.

By the time he was allowed to turn his phone back on, the Red Sox already were in the playoffs -- and he had a slew of text messages from Theo Epstein on his cell phone.

"They all came -- and I went right to the last one," he said. "It went from being a grumpy flight to a nice landing."

Francona's son, Nick, graduated on Wednesday from The Basic School, the officer training academy for the United States Marine Corps. Nick Francona played college baseball at the University of Pennsylvania and spent the last 26 weeks training to become a commissioned lieutenant in the Marines. He'll be off for infantry school in a couple of days.

Francona wasn't about to downplay the significance of the wild card and the need for his players to celebrate their achievement -- even though it came on the heels of a disappointing loss to the Blue Jays.

"Maybe people that are around the team understand, and maybe they don't," he said. "It's a long year, and for them to let loose like that together, I like it. Winning should never get old.

"Everybody in that room knows this is not our ultimate goal. But it is still an accomplishment, and you enjoy it and move on."

But he couldn't stick around to join in the celebration. He didn't even have any energy left to do much celebrating himself: His plane landed at 2:30 a.m., and he had to get up at 4:30 a.m. for the graduation ceremonies.

"It wasn't the time to celebrate," he said. "I didn't know where I was."

Martinez or Varitek: Game 1 catcher?

Many believed Red Sox manager Terry Francona wouldn't have the guts to make Jason Varitek his second-string catcher. It's not easy -- no matter how convincing the statistics might make the case -- to meet with your captain, your leader, your rock, your catcher on two World Series title teams, and tell him, in so many words, "We're a better team when you don't play."

Francona has always seen his players as more than run producers, as more than batting averages and on-base percentages and strikeout rates. He's always seen his job as manager as more than writing in the lineup card and putting on the hit and run. He's always believed the way he does what's best for his players is the only way to get his players to do what's best for the team.

Look at the way Francona handled the early-season slump of David Ortiz. While fans and writers and radio voices alike all screamed for Ortiz to ride the pine, Francona stuck with him and stuck with him and stuck with him.

"He’s going to get hot,” Francona said in late May. "How hot? I can’t wait to find out. But when he does, that’s why being patient is really the only thing to do. If I’m wrong, I take responsibility. I just think it’s the right thing for us to do."

It wasn't because Francona believed Ortiz was going to look once again like the hitter he'd been two or three years ago when he hit 45 or 50 home runs and OPS'ed well over 1.000. It was because Francona believed Ortiz was better than the hitter who was OPS'ing less than .600 into early June. It was because Francona believed he could get more out of Ortiz by sticking with him than by kicking him to the curb.

Ortiz still isn't the old Ortiz. But he's worked his OPS back up to .767 -- eight points above the average OPS in the American League -- and has hit 24 home runs, the same number as Matt Holliday and more than Victor Martinez, Brian McCann, Hanley Ramirez, Pablo Sandoval and Michael Young. He might not be worthy of returning to his old spot at No. 3 in the Red Sox lineup, but he's rewarded the faith Francona showed him with a productive second half.

The difference between Ortiz and Varitek, of course, is the fact that the Red Sox have never had a viable alternative to Ortiz. The acquisition of Victor Martinez from Cleveland gave the Red Sox an immediate and impressive alternative to the rapidly fading Varitek.

The offensive numbers, of course, don't compare.

Career OPS
Martinez: .836
Varitek: .780

2005-08 OPS
Martinez: .841
Varitek: .764

2009 OPS
Martinez: .857
Varitek: .717

But Varitek always has been a serviceable hitter rather than a star. His work with Red Sox pitchers has always been his calling card. With Josh Beckett a Cy Young Award candidate and Jon Lester coming into his own, Francona had more than enough ammunition to tell critics that Varitek still would play an essential role in his team down the stretch.

It hasn't gone that way.

Martinez caught Clay Buchholz in Baltimore on Friday, as has become customary. But he caught Lester in Baltimore on Saturday, too -- and that means he's almost completely supplanted Varitek as the team's starting catcher.

The only pitchers who regularly throw to Varitek now are Josh Beckett (likely the team's Game 1 starter in the ALDS) and Paul Byrd (likely a spectactor for the ALCS). Francona has made the decision -- for good reason, it seems -- to push Varitek more and more into the background with Martinez more and more looking like a player who will catch 120 or so games next season.

This begs the question: Will Varitek catch Beckett in the playoffs -- or will Martinez?

"I know the numbers with (Varitek) are phenomenal and I believe in that," Francona told reporters in Baltimore when the subject came up. "I also think the night that Victor caught Beckett was a crazy night. Again, I’m very aware that when Victor catches our lineup is more potent. Also, our goal is to win that game, again that’s where we probably have to sit down at some point.

"I don’t know the answer. I certain don’t think it’s a bad question, but I don’t know what the answer is."

Presuming the Yankees choose the longer of the two ALDS schedules, the Red Sox will play the following schedule in the first round against the Angels (and throw their pitchers in the following order):

Game 1: Oct. 8 (Beckett)
Game 2: Oct. 9 (Lester)
Game 3: Oct. 11 (Buchholz)
Game 4: Oct. 12 (TBD, but likely Daisuke Matsuzaka)
Game 5: Oct. 14 (Beckett)

Martinez certainly can catch five games in seven days. He caught five games in eight days in early September, and that was while playing first base in between rather than having days off to lay around and relax and answer stupid questions from reporters like this one. He'll have the whole winter to recuperate: He's not going to get worn down catching all five games against the Angels in the ALDS.

But that doesn't mean that's what Francona will do.

For one thing, the first and only time Martinez caught Beckett this season, the Red Sox ace surrendered seven runs in 5 1/3 innings. No one really can know if there's any correlation: Beckett then spun off three more lousy starts before turning a corner, and Varitek was behind the plate for those three lousy starts as well as his three encouraging starts since.

Whether you believe something about Varitek makes Beckett pitch better or not, it's tough to deny one point: Francona isn't going to have Beckett pitch to Martinez in Game 1 of the ALDS without having him pitch to Martinez at some point before the season ends. It makes no sense. If Martinez is going to catch Beckett in the playoffs, he's going to have to get another couple of chances to catch him in the regular season.

That, though, gets tricky when the Red Sox are playing 20 straight games without a day off to close out the season.

Martinez needs to keep catching Buchholz and Lester -- and if he's going to be the primary catcher in the postseason, he probably needs to start catching Beckett and Matsuzaka, too. But Francona would be insane to ask Martinez to catch 16 or 17 of the final 20 games of the season and still to expect him to produce at a .900 OPS-type level when it counts the most.

The Red Sox are a better team when Martinez is behind the plate. That's clear. Francona, for all of his loyalty to the veterans who won him two World Series rings, has found a way to ease Varitek out of the Red Sox lineup on an everyday basis.

But he's also not going to risk losing Game 1 of the ALDS because Beckett isn't comfortable with his catcher. Varitek almost certainly is going to catch Beckett in the playoffs.

Francona in favor of a healthy scratch system

Ramon Ramirez has thrown 37 pitches in the last couple of games. Daniel Bard has thrown 24. Neither likely will be available for the Red Sox in the series finale against the Angels.

But they're not the only ones. Takashi Saito threw 25 pitches a night ago after going 10 days without pitching. He's likely not available. Manny Delcarmen threw 18 pitches in his inning of work. He's probably not available for more than a hitter or two.

The Red Sox, then, should be working with a fairly limited bullpen. Jonathan Papelbon and Billy Wagner are fresh and ready to go, and lefty Hideki Okajima threw just 12 pitches in facing three hitters on Wednesday night. There shouldn't be much left beyond those three -- and if the Angels can get to Josh Beckett early, they ought to have a distinct advantage.

It's September, though -- and that eliminates that advantage.

The Red Sox have two extra pitchers in the bullpen in Michael Bowden and Junichi Tazawa. They also have four catchers and seven infielders and seven outfielders and the ability to adapt to pretty much any scenario.

On Wednesday night, in fact, Red Sox manager Terry Francona employed four pinch-hitters, one pinch-runner and two defensive replacements. Joey Gathright scored a run. Josh Reddick scored a run. Jed Lowrie had a hit. Nick Green drew a walk. By the end of the game, catcher George Kottaras was the only position player left in the Red Sox dugout.

Francona used all the weapons available to him within the rules.

But that doesn't mean he agrees with those rules.

"I actually don't like it," he said. "There needs to be some amendments to the rules. I understand wanting to call up players; I think that's great. But you play all year under one set of rules and then, all of a sudden, it's Sept. 1, and it's vastly different."

Football has its list of actives and inactives. Hockey has its healthy scratches. Basketball has its "DNP."

Only in baseball is the entire active roster allowed to participate in every game. A team suits up 25 players for each of its games and can use all 25 in every game if it wants. Come September, though, it can suit up 40 players -- and it can use all 40.

The advantage gained by getting into an opposing team's bullpen early in the first or second game of a series disappears when there are 10 or 12 pitchers in that bullpen. The advantage of bringing in a lefty to pitch to a lefty evaporates when a team has endless righthanded bats available on its bench.

"There's just too many players," Francona said. "You can have a bullpen -- and hopefully a good bullpen -- and you're never going to match up with somebody because they can keep running guys out. I'm not sure that's the way they meant for it to be drawn up."

Francona isn't about to choose not to use the players he has.

"You do anything you can to win," he said. "When you have players available, sometimes you get in a game like (Wednesday) night where you use them."

The solution, it would seem, would be a similar system to what the NFL, NBA and NHL have: The active roster still could consist of 40 players in September, but each team might only be allowed to dress 25.

"Maybe 30," Francona said. "I understand the need to expand -- but not crazy numbers."

Francona, MJ and the Partridge Family

Much of the legend of Michael Jordan -- his competitiveness, for example -- Terry Francona saw firsthand when he managed His Airness at Double-A Birmingham and in the Arizona FallLeague. Be it at baseball, basketball, ping-pong or Yahtzee, Francona saw an off-the-charts competitiveness he's never seen in any other athlete he's ever encountered.

But the legend of the bus, Francona said, is a little overblown.

(An interjection: Before you keep reading, click here for a "This is why YouTube exists" video featuring both the "Jordan Cruiser" and a 35-year-old Terry Francona -- with hair, even.)

(All set? Here we go.)

"We got a new bus because he was there," Francona said, "but what it was was a new bus. It didn't have a minibar or a jacuzzi. It just didn't stink as much as the old one -- and it didn't break down nearly as much. It was just a bus. It was kind of pretty. We looked a little bit like the Partridge Family. But it was still a bus."

As pretty as the bus was, that's not what Francona remembers most about his days managing the greatest basketball player in history. What he remembers most is the competitiveness and the desire to win.

"That's why he is who he is," Francona said. "I know the talent is there, but he's the most competitive person you'd ever see. That doesn't mean he wins at everything he does, but he's the most competitive."

The equipment, of course, sometimes paid a price.

"I saw him break a ping-pong table," Francona said. "I saw him break a tennis racket. He didn't take losing very well."

As far as Francona is concerned -- and keep in mind that this isn't a guy who would sugarcoat something like this -- Jordan could have played his way into the major leagues.

"He hadn't played since he was 18, and that was high school," Francona said. "He was thrust into Double-A, what, 14 years later? It was tough for him. He's big, tall, lanky, long arms, so he had to fight to keep his swing short. He was actually a good base-stealer. I think he actually stole 30 bases. He found a way to drive in 50 runs, which, in Double-A, is not too bad. ...

"If he was willing to invest a couple more full years where you're looking at 1,000 at-bats, I have a feeling he'd have found a way to get to the major leagues."

It wasn't just a circus, either. It meant something to him.

Jordan's competitiveness backfired on him in some ways. Baseball is far more of a game of failure than basketball, and that particularly was the case for Jordan. The greatest player in the history of the game, after all, hit .202 and struck out 114 times.

That meant Francona had to do some work to do.

"One night in Memphis, we were pretty deep in the season, and he was getting a little frustrated," Francona said. "He wasn't hitting very well, and it was taking a toll on him. We stayed there one night, me and the coaches and Michael, and we talked about, 'If you're going to do this, don't look back on it and hate it.' I think he listened because he showed up the next day a little bit more refreshed. It was starting to wear on him.

A little later in the season, Francona roused Jordan off the bench during a scheduled night off and sent him to the plate to pinch-hit in a key spot. Jordan dug into the batter's box, the game on the line -- and he didn't deliver.

After the game, though, Jordan stuck his head into his manager's office.

"Thank you," Jordan said.

"I hadn't done it as a favor," Francona said, looking back. "At that point in his career, that was every bit as exhilarating as him trying to hit a 3-pointer, the game on the line and his at-bat.

"It was a time in his life when that was what he needed to do."

Some September call-ups can open eyes

Back when Terry Francona was managing the Philadelphia Phillies, the team promoted a 21-year-old switch-hitter once rosters expanded in September. The Phillies were well on their way to another sub-.500 season. Francona, as it turned out, would be fired shortly after the end of the season. There was nothing to lose and not much more to gain.

Still, though, they didn't play the kid right away. He'd hit .274 with 28 home runs, 11 triples and 12 home runs for Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, and he'd drawn almost as many walks (49) as he'd absorbed strikeouts (55). But the Phillies had veterans Tomas Perez and Desi Relaford playing the kid's position, and Francona wasn't about to shove them aside out of respect for the way they'd endured such a miserable season.

Both Perez and Relaford were 26 years old, too, so the Phillies had some interest in seeing them get at-bats and some development time, too. It wasn't as if they were 37-year-old journeymen on the way out. The kid, on the other hand, was ticketed for the Arizona Fall League's Maryvale Saguaros and would get plenty of at-bats there.

But Jimmy Rollins just wouldn't let Francona leave him on the bench.

Rollins had two hits, including a triple, and stole a base and scored two runs in his first game in the major leagues. He drew a walk in his first at-bat and scored when Bobby Abreu hit a home run. He then tripled down the right-field line in his second at-bat. (True for form for that Philadelphia team, the next three hitters struck out and stranded him at third.)

He then sparked a three-run inning in the seventh, singling to center field on the first pitch of the inning and stealing second base during Abreu's at-bat. He eventually scored on Pat Burrell's single to center field, and the Phllies scored three runs to put the game out of reach of its shaky bullpen.

(The Marlins still rallied late. A third baseman by the name of Mike Lowell hit an RBI single in the ninth inning, even. But Francona's final reliever of the game struck out right fielder Mark Kotsay with runners on first and second to end the game and secure a win in Rollins' debut.)

Rollins finished his two-week stint with a .321 batting average and five runs scored in 53 at-bats. A year later, he hit 14 home runs and stole 46 bases and finished third behind Albert Pujols in the National League's Rookie of the Year voting.

"Jimmy got called up, and he wasn't supposed to play much," Francona said. "But when we called him up, it was like, 'Holy (smokes), this guy is good,' so we played him a little bit more than we probably were supposed to just because he looked so good."

Don't expect any of the Red Sox call-ups to make the same type of impact this month. Teams always will be less inclined to give extra playing time to rookies when they're in a pennant race.

But if someone like Joey Gathright or Josh Reddick comes up and gets hot with the bat, don't be surprised if Francona finds a few extra at-bats for him.

Terry Francona's favorite ejection

When Terry Francona jogged out to give second-base umpire Scott Barry a piece of his mind after J.D. Drew was caught stealing, he knew he was going to get thrown out of the game. It wasn't because he planned to get thrown out. It was because he was going out there intent on arguing a different play.

He still wanted to talk about the play from the first inning where Carlos Guillen, Francona believed, slid out of the baseline to prevent Dustin Pedroia from turning a double play. Barry actually didn't toss him from the game right away, which surprised him, and that's why the argument turned animated when Barry eventually did offer him an early shower.

"I said to him, 'You're probably going to end up throwing me out because I know I can't do this,'" Francona said. "And then when he didn't throw me out, I was like, 'OK, I said my piece, and now I'll get out of here.' And then he threw me out, so I went and yelled at him a little bit more."

He even threw his gum, but that wasn't any sort of extra protest. That actually was out of courtesy to Barry.

"I didn't want to spit on him," Francona said. "I know it looks stupid. It wasn't anything to rile up the fans. When I go out there, if I have it in, I was all of a sudden cognizant of the fact that it was in there and I'd better get rid of it. Jerry (Crawford, the crew chief) was right there. It just happened. That's all I need to do is hit him with it."

Francona isn't a manager who normally goes out to argue with an umpire just to get ejected or to fire up his team somehow -- unlike, say, Bobby Cox. Still, though, it happens.

"I know people like to hear, 'Well, the manager is getting the team fired up,'" Francona said. "I think the other way. When things are going bad, if I lose it, you might see two or three guys behind me (lose it). We don't do that very often here, which is good. Our guys, for the most part, stay in the game and play. ...

"For the most part, it's when an umpire reacts to something normally that, at the time, it strikes me wrong. That's what happens. It could be something I said, too. I understand that. I say something and he reacts and then you say the magic word, and it's, 'Thanks for coming.'"

Sometimes, though, a manager has no choice but to get thrown out of a game.

It was this same time of year almost a decade ago: Aug. 10, 2000. Francona's Phillies were getting soundly trounced by the San Diego Padres and were about to fall 19 1/2 games behind the Atlanta Braves in the National League East. Francona would be relieved of his duties as Phillies manager barely a month and a half later.

(The details in this story are not exactly the same details as the story Francona told local reporters a couple of days ago, but they match closely enough Francona's memory likely is just a little bit fuzzy.)

Randy Wolf had surrendered eight earned runs in 5 2/3 innings, and relievers Wayne Gomes and Mark Holzemer weren't doing much better. Bret Boone had hit a three-run home run in the third inning, and Phil Nevin and Joe Vitello each had hit home runs in the sixth. It was another frustrating game for a frustrated team.

(You have to wonder sometimes if Francona reminds himself of those days when games get frustrating at this time of year in Boston. Being in contention every year is an unbelievable blessing, and given what he experienced in Philadelphia, it's hard to believe Francona takes it for granted.)

Damian Jackson hit a triple to right field that actually bounced over the fence and should have been ruled a ground-rule double. First-base umpire Charlie Williams ruled it a triple that allowed two runs to score, and Francona went out after him.

"It didn't affect the game, but it was like, 'Charlie, come on, man,'" Francona said.

There were just shy of 16,000 fans in the seats, and all of them either were booing or asleep.

"Listen to this crowd," Francona told Williams upon arriving at the umpire's feet. "When I leave this field, they're going to crucify me. I'm going to have to get thrown out here."

Said Williams, "I will not throw you out because of my bad call."

Francona was flabbergasted.

"Charlie," the manager said, "don't make me tell you something I'm going to regret. Just throw me out."

"I'm not going to throw you out," Williams said.

The two went back and forth for a couple of minutes until the umpire came up with an idea that would save a little face for both of them.

"Take your hat off and throw it," he said.

"No!" Francona said. "I'm not going to embarrass myself! Just throw me out!"

Williams, with an assist from one of the other members of that day's umpiring crew, eventually gave Francona the heave-ho.

Francona made wrong call by hitting Ortiz for Lowrie

The beauty of baseball is that you never need a home run.

To win a football game, you sometimes need to score a touchdown and not kick a field goal. To win a basketball game, you sometimes need a 3-pointer. To win a hockey game, you sometimes have to take a slapshot from the neutral zone with seconds ticking off the clock.

In baseball, you never need a home run.

Home runs are great, of course. There is never a bad time for a home run. But even a team that's losing by three runs can be just as victorious with seven or eight straight singles as it can be with three straight singles and a home run.

Time doesn't run out. Only outs run out. If you keep an inning alive with hits, be they singles or home runs, you're eventually going to score runs.

That brings us to Wednesday's eighth inning. The Red Sox went into the inning trailing by four runs, but a collision in the outfield and a Mike Lowell sacrifice fly cut that deficit to three. J.D. Drew then followed with a line-drive single to center field, and after Adam LaRoche bounced into a fielder's choice, Jason Varitek drew a walk.

(As an aside: How in the world does a third-base coach send Jason Bay -- a guy with mediocre speed who had just been thrown out at home plate in a costly play the night before -- on a shallow fly ball with no outs in a game in which his team trailed by four runs? Bay was safe -- but the single by Drew only emphasized the ludicrousness of the decision. You don't risk outs at home plate down four runs in the same way you don't steal bases down four runs. Had Bay been thrown out, fans everywhere would be screaming for the head of DeMarlo Hale.)

Jed Lowrie was due up next.

Terry Francona called him back and sent up David Ortiz.

The thought behind the move was obvious. Lowrie is a shortstop who hits line drives, a hitter coming off wrist surgery whose bid for a home run on Sunday died just in front of the warning track. Ortiz is Big Papi, the Greatest Clutch Hitter in Red Sox History, a slugger who has made a living out of distributing souvenirs to the fans in the bleachers behind the bullpens in right fields.

A home run would tie the game. Francona wanted a home run.

But Francona didn't need a home run. With the lineup set to turn over behind Lowrie, he really, really didn't need a home run. All Lowrie had to do was get a base hit, drive in a run, keep the line moving. If he hit it into a gap somewhere, even better. But all he had to do was get a hit or get on base and keep the line moving.

(Jacoby Ellsbury and Dustin Pedroia opened the ninth inning with back-to-back hits. Ellsbury hit a slap single into left field, and Pedroia beat a ground ball down the third-base line with which Adam Kennedy had trouble. Everything would have been different had they come to the plate in the eighth inning, of course, but it certainly drives the point home.)

Francona went for the gusto. He called for Ortiz.

Ortiz hit a pop fly on the infield that Kennedy squeezed for the third out of the inning.

The Red Sox ended up losing the game by an 8-6 score and fell 3 1/2 games behind the victorious Yankees.

Ortiz had a huge month of June, breaking out of his early-season slump in a big way. He hit .320 and OBP'ed .409 and slugged .653 and hit seven home runs and just generally looked like the old Big Papi. Since the calendar turned to July, though, he's looked quite a bit like the Big Papi that drove Red Sox fans crazy in April and May:

At-bats
April: 87
July: 81

Hits
April: 20
July: 18

Walks
April: 8
July: 6

Strikeouts
April: 22
July: 21

Home runs
April: 0
July: 5

Those five home runs are all that separate Slumping Ortiz in April from "He's Back!" Ortiz in July. His batting average and on-base percentage actually are worse in July than they were in April. When he's not homering, he's doing pretty much what he did back when all of Boston was clamoring for him either to be benched or released or drawn and quartered in Kenmore Square.

In 18 at-bats since the start of this particular homestand, Ortiz had just three hits -- and seven strikeouts.

Lowrie, on the other hand, is working his way back from wrist surgery and has hit the ball hard all week long. His numbers don't reflect it -- his batting average for the season still is just .125 -- but he's hit the ball hard.

One indicator: He's hitting the ball in the air four out of every five times he puts it in play, but he's hardly hitting anything on the infield. He's hitting the ball hard into the outfield. He's just seeing everything get run down.

Another indicator: Entering play Wednesday, his BABIP -- batting average on balls in play -- was .107, a number that's so unsustainable it's laughable.

Everything Lowrie been hitting had been going right to fielders. All he had to do is keep hitting. You could almost already see him yanking a single to right field or hitting a line drive up the gap in left-center, a hit that would score at least one run and keep the inning alive for Ellsbury and Pedroia.

Francona instead called upon Ortiz to tie the game with one swing of the bat, called on a power hitter who is a .188 career hitter coming off the bench cold. Oakland manager Bob Geren went to the bullpen and called upon lefty specialist Craig Breslow, a pitcher who seemed to be warming for no other reason than to be ready when Ortiz pinch-hit for someone.

Ortiz stayed patient at the plate. He did what he usually does. He watched a pair of fastballs miss and then took a slider for a strike. He then took a cut at a 92-mile-an-hour right at his hands, and he hit it straight up.

Inning over.

For all intents and purposes, game over.

Francona actually had sent pinch-hitters to the plate just 31 times this season -- well below the American League average (39). He's not a manager who normally likes to pinch-hit.

He should have stuck to his instincts on Wednesday. Like Ortiz, he swung for the fences and ended up with a feeble pop fly.

Reading between the lines with Terry Francona

Red Sox manager Terry Francona spent quite a bit of time talking to the media on Monday afternoon about the trade deadline: What he reads, what he doesn't read, what he knows, what he doesn't know. Here's a sampling of what he had to say:

"It's probably harder on the players. There's a lot of uncertainty this week. Part of what makes Boston so special is that we seem to be a player in everything. When I say that, obviously, we're not going after 11 guys. But because of who we are and what has been created here through ownership, we are a player in a lot of things. As soon as somebody's name gets out there, Boston is attached to it. I don't think we're the biggest city in the country -- and I'm horrible geographically and I admit to it, but we're not the biggest city in the country -- but we're a major market in baseball. That's because we have great fans and great ownership, and we have more money than a lot of teams to spend, so good for us."

The Red Sox do seem to be a player in everything. Roy Halladay's name has been omnipresent on the WEEI airwaves over the last couple of weeks. Victor Martinez and Adrian Gonzalez are the newest favorites on the rumor mill. (This writer still prefers Marco Scutaro, but I'm not lobbying for a job with the team or anything.) Perhaps the most amazing thing about the trade for Adam LaRoche was that no one really was talking about him before he was acquired. Everyone's attention already was fixated on Washington's Nick Johnson.

One thing to keep in mind: While the Red Sox have made a couple of huge trades in the tenure of Theo Epstein, both of them involved them unloading disgruntled stars rather than adding stars. Jason Bay was a big acquisition a year ago, but the Red Sox traded Manny Ramirez -- and not prospects -- to get him. Now, if the Padres make Adrian Gonzalez available for a package of players that doesn't involve Clay Buchholz or Daniel Bard, you'd better believe the Red Sox will listen. But nothing about Theo Epstein's history should lead you to believe he's going to back up the truck for just anybody.

"For about one week out of the year, it creates a lot of uncertainty in players. There's no way to get around it until it's over. This has generally been a tough week for us since I've been here."

Mike Lowell, you have to believe, would like to know his role. He said all the right things when he met with reporters on Monday, but he also sat and talked for 10 or 15 minutes in the dugout with Red Sox sports psychology coach Bob Tewksbury before the game. It's not reaching too much to speculate that he had some things to get off his chest. He's a veteran who has been a starter his entire career, and he now has no idea if and when he's going to get regular playing time in the second half of the reason.

Trouble is, until July 31 passes, the Red Sox don't know. They might have a plan now based on the roster as currently assembled -- playing Lowell against lefties, for example, or putting him on the disabled list to get him healthy for September -- but everything is too up in the air. The Padres might be willing to deal Gonzalez. The Indians might be willing to deal Martinez. Heck, if a contending team in the National League made a reasonable offer, the Red Sox might even be willing to deal Lowell -- whose contract will be a Lugo-esque drag on the payroll next season if his hip doesn't get better.

Lowell wants to know what's going on -- and he's not the only one. But until the trading deadline passes, no one can give him any answers.

"Do I pay much attention? Through the media? No. Do I pay a lot of attention to what's going on? Yeah. Not through you guys -- because, believe me, you don't know. If I went through every article that's been written or every radio show, we wouldn't have team that's here now. You take everybody's version, and we'd have half the American League and some of the National League here."
(You want to tell us what's really going on?)
"Nope. I don't know. But I do pay attention."

We don't know. That's what he's saying. We do usually know when names are floated around -- no one's imagining the availability of Roy Halladay, and you can assume the Victor Martinez rumors are pretty credible, too -- but we don't know one thing. We don't know how the Red Sox value their prospects. We have no idea if Theo Epstein would trade Clay Buchholz or Daniel Bard to the Padres for Adrian Gonzalez straight up, let alone in a three- or four-player package. Opposing executives tend to gripe about how highly the Red Sox value their prospects, but we still don't know the degree.

It would be fascinating to get from Theo Epstein some sort of criteria for a trade that would include Buchholz. He'd trade Buchholz for Albert Pujols, you have to believe. He wouldn't trade him for Yuniesky Betancourt. Somewhere, there's a middle ground. Francona is right. We don't know what that middle ground is.

"(Players) are getting asked a lot of questions. They're reading things that aren't true. Doubt can seep in there because I don't doubt you guys are asking a lot of questions that have no bearing on what we're doing. But you still have to address it because you guys ask it. ... I know what's going on. I know what's not going on. That's maybe why I don't pay as much attention to it -- because I know what's not going on."

On Friday, when asked about trade talks, Clay Buchholz said, "It’s been that way all year. I’ve had people go out and ask me about the trade talks and everything throughout this whole season. It is what it is. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, I’m here, and I’m hoping I’ll go out there every fifth day and help this team win."

Reporters asked Buchholz after Monday night's game about how he's dealing with trade talk. "Pretty confident I'm here for at least a little bit longer," he said.

The 24-year-old righty might just be saying that. He also might have been assured by Epstein and Francona that they've invested too much in him to trade him without ever giving him a second chance to prove himself. He might really not be going anywhere.

"I've been here long enough to know how Theo and the guys work. If they think they can improve what we're doing, they will -- but not at the expense of (what's going well). We're in a little bit of a unique position here, and I love it. We seem to be a player in a lot of things because of who we are. At the same time, we believe in what we're doing with a lot of our younger players. I think, maybe, we have a different view. We feel like we're almost dealing from a strength as opposed to a necessity -- or at least that's where we want to be. I know we're not running away with our division and we're not as comfortable with our standing right now as we'd like to be, but, at the same time, we like the mixture and we like having our young guys come through."

This is what happens when you run an efficient organization. The Red Sox can trade Buchholz to fill a need because they have Casey Kelly coming behind him. They can trade Josh Reddick to fill a need because they have Ryan Kalish coming behind him. Heck, they can trade Jacoby Ellsbury to fill a need -- if it's a really glaring need -- because they have a whole slew of athletic center fielder-types coming behind him.

The Red Sox don't prefer to make any huge moves involving their prospects because they've really enjoyed watching Kevin Youkilis and Jon Lester and Dustin Pedroia and Jonathan Papelbon grow and flourish as major leaguers. If they can land an impact star -- preferably one under the age of 30 -- they will. But if they do nothing but work their young players gradually into their 25-man roster, they'll be perfectly happy with that.

Besides: The goal isn't just to win the World Series this year. They've won two World Series titles this decade. The goal is to be competitive every single year, and backing up the truck for Gonzalez isn't necessarily conducive to that goal.

'My job entails more than putting the hit and run on'

Terry Francona received an unexpected visitor the other day: Luis Andujar, who pitched for Francona at Double-A Birmingham during the 1993, 1994 and 1995 seasons. Andujar was 20 years old and less than two years out of the Dominican Republic when he and Francona first encountered each other.

Andujar didn't have an apartment when he got to Birmingham. He didn't have a car, either. His 34-year-old manager helped the young righty get an apartment and get a car -- and get a new car when the first one promptly broke down.

"It broke down that very day," Francona said. "I was the guy that helped him get his car, and then I was the guy that went and picked him up when his first car didn't work."

That, to Francona, is what being a manager is all about.

"My job entails more than putting the hit and run on," he said.

Francona played his big-league baseball in an era in which players were expected to devote themselves to their teams first and their families second, to hold off on taking care of their responsibilities at home during off-days or after the season ended.

When Francona was born, his dad -- playing for the Indians at the time -- didn't get to come see him for a couple of weeks. A generation later, Francona only made it to his wife's side "literally seven or eight minutes" before his son, Nick, was born, and he didn't get to the hospital where his daughter, Alyssa, was born until the next day.

"My wife's still mad at me," he said, "and it's 22 years later. ... We were playing in Cincinnati, and Pete (Rose) just said, 'We have a day off tomorrow. Go tomorrow.' I said, 'OK.'"

Other than Buck Rodgers, the Montreal Expos manager who "had a way of making you feel important," he said, Francona hadn't played for many managers who cared much about his players' private lives. It wasn't until he encountered guys like Andujar that he really learned how important it was to take care of his players off the field as well as on the field.

"What opened my eyes was going to the minor leagues as a manger and seeing what guys were dealing with," Francona said.

That's why there was never any doubt where Dustin Pedroia was supposed to be on Monday night.

Pedroia's wife, Kelli, was seven months into her first pregnancy when she abruptly went into labor and ended up the hospital. Doctors gave her "some shots," Pedroia said, to try to prevent her from delivering the baby at such an early date.

Pedroia stayed with his wife until she insisted he go to Fenway Park to play in his team's game.

"I kind of do what I'm told," the second baseman said with a smile.

When he showed up at the ballpark, though, Francona turned him around and sent him right back to the hospital.

"Hey, you’ve got to get out of here, man," he said. "You’ve got to take care of your family."

The 25-year-old second baseman spent the night on a tiny hospital bed -- "It's good I'm small," he said with a smirk -- before heading back to the ballpark on Tuesday afternoon.

"She's kind of out of it right now," he said. "She just said to go to the park and play: 'Go win and come back.' That's what we're trying to do today."

Pedroia didn't even have to think about Monday's game -- a game the Red Sox lost because they couldn't manage more than two hits off Oakland rookie Brett Anderson. The reigning American League MVP, of course, could have helped. But that's not what's most important. That's not why he was in their thoughts. That's not why general manager Theo Epstein sent over a text message late Monday night.

"He needed to not be here," Francona said. "Anybody that's been around him for any length of time knows how bad he wants to play. ... He needed to be with Kelli, and she needed him. Now that she's got some family here, he's a little more comfortable -- and they're a little more comfortable with him being here.

"He's a phone call away. If he needs to leave, we'll do that."

***

Postscript: Pedroia played all nine innings in Tuesday night's 5-2 win, and he even hit a line-drive single to left in the sixth inning to plate a key insurance run.

"Whether it had been a 14-hopper in the hole or whatever got it done, that was big in a lot of ways for him," left fielder Jason Bay said. "And us."

Said Francona, "It was nice to have him here. I think he was probably glad to be playing."

Francona downplays lineup movement

Over the last three weeks or so, David Ortiz has hit fourth, fifth and sixth in the Red Sox lineup. Jason Bay began the season hitting sixth and has spent most of the last month hitting cleanup -- but he's hitting fifth for the second time in three days today against the Mariners.

Jason Varitek has hit sixth, seventh and eighth in the last three weeks. He'll hit eighth today. Jacoby Ellsbury has bounced all over the place -- from leadoff to second to seventh to eighth. He'll hit sixth today.

J.D. Drew has started a game hitting first, second, third, fifth and sixth for the Red Sox this season. He's started games at every single spot in the batting order in his career. He'll hit leadoff today against the Mariners -- as he has done in each of his last four games.

In many ways, where a player hits in a lineup is overrated. The leadoff hitter only is guaranteed to lead off an inning once per game -- if you take the first inning out of the equation, in fact, Dustin Pedroia has led off more innings (69) than Ellsbury (62).

It gives all of us something to talk about. But having a set lineup every day, a lineup that has everyone in exactly the spot either conventional wisdom or sabermetrics would dictate, isn't as big of a deal as we'd like to make it.

"If you can get some sort of consistency, I think the players appreciate that," Francona said. "I do think it makes it easier for them. I believe in that a lot."

He then paused.

"I believe there are times you just can't do that," he said. "Now, it's not like we have David hitting eighth or first or second. We're staying pretty close. We're actually staying pretty consistent through the order. We don't have a guy one day first, one day ninth. There's some consistency. ...

"I don't think you hit players where they're uncomfortable."

Consider the movement of Pedroia in the batting order.

Pedroia hit second in the batting order from April 6 to May 30 -- and he hit .328 with an OPS of .842 in that span. He then hit leadoff from May 31 to June 28 and hit .214 with a .565 OPS. Since he was returned to the second spot in the batting order, though, he's hitting .250 with a .667 OPS. He's not exactly setting the world on fire.

A year ago, Pedroia spent 17 games in the leadoff spot in the lineup and hit just .208. Clearly, that spot didn't agree with him -- except when you consider that he actually was 6 for 16 (.375) when leading off the first inning and 9 for 56 (.161) at all other points in the game. Pedroia hit leadoff in the team's first game of the season, in fact, and singled up the middle.

And when injuries gave Francona reason to put Pedroia in the cleanup spot a year ago, the second baseman went 12 for 18 with two home runs and seven RBI.

What's the difference? It's not clear even the players know.

In fact, the way Francona and Pedroia talked about the difference between hitting leadoff and hitting second made it sound like they'd come up with a company line to explain something that isn't really explainable.

"Pedey's trying too hard to do the right thing," Francona said. "We just want him to be himself. ... This kid's too conscientous. He wants to be the perfect leadoff hitter. He wants to get on base every time. I just want him to be himself."

"Trying to do so much, that's what I've been doing," Pedroia said. "I want to do so well and get a hit every time I'm up, and sometimes that backfires -- especially when you have a lot of energy."

Much was made of the dilemma Francona faced a few years ago with Ortiz and Manny Ramirez, trying to decide who to hit third and who to hit fourth. The big dilemma was protection in the lineup. Kevin Millar and Jason Varitek hit fifth more often than anyone else, and neither exactly were could be considered Tony Lazzeri to Ortiz and Ramirez's Ruth and Gehrig.

"I do remember calling them in," Francona said. "I called Manny and David both in at the same time, and I said, 'One guy hits third, and one guy hits fourth. You help me.' Both of them said, 'Third.' David understood it. I don't know if Manny did. I was like, 'We've got to figure this out.' They both were like, 'OK, third.' I was like, 'OK, now, from there, let's go a step further and get one guy fourth. That took a while. ...

"Manny was worried about, obviously, protection. I wanted to get David hitting third. I wanted to have Manny hitting fourth. But I wanted them to feel good about it. As a manager, you can do what you want and it can be the right thing on paper, but if your players don't buy into it, it may not be right. Manny had the ability to take walks regardless of who was hitting behind him. I didn't know if David would do that. We're trying to get the most out of both of them."

That's all a manager can do. Some guys feel more comfortable hitting in certain spots. Youkilis, for example, is not comfortable hitting leadoff even though his on-base percentage and ability to work counts makes him a perfect fit at the top of any lineup. Francona hit Youkilis at the top of the order throughout the 2006 season -- the first baseman had a .400 on-base percentage when leading off a game -- but has not done so since.

It's not a science. It's not just about the numbers.

It is, though, fascinating to talk about.

Camden Yards the site of fundamental All-Star change

Losing to the Rays in Game 7 in last year's American League Championship Series cost Terry Francona a chance to go to the World Series for the third time in five years. It also, however, saved him a big-time headache: Managing the American League All-Star team.

One reporter asked Francona today if he's talked to Tampa Bay's Joe Maddon to plug some of his players -- Tim Wakefield, probably -- for an All-Star spot. Francona said he had not done so, in large part because Maddon has so little to do with selecting the team.

"They really don't have decisions to make," he said. "They have decisions to make when guys get hurt, things like that."

That actually comes back to the All-Star Game held right here in Baltimore's Camden Yards in 1993. Toronto manager Cito Gaston held back Orioles ace Mike Mussina in case of extra innings and never did bring him into the game, drawing the ire of the hometown crowd that started booing when Blue Jays closer Duane Ward pitched the ninth in place of Mussina.

Ever since 1993, managers have felt enormous pressure to get as many players as possible into the game. That, of course, led to issues with extra innings and ties and complaints that the game wasn't played competitively. The infamous tie in 2003 was the most glaring example, but last year's All-Star Game almost ended the same way. Francona was prepared to pitch J.D. Drew in the top of the 16th inning because he'd used all his pitchers and didn't dare send Tampa Bay's Scott Kazmir back out for a second inning on one day's rest.

"You're trying to compete," Francona said. "You're also trying to get guys in the game. It's not fair. I'm telling you: It's not fair to the manager. ...

"We told the team before the game: I was going to try to play everybody I could and win. Our guys were very cooperative, and we managed to do it. I was very thankful because it wasn't easy, and it took a lot of the fun out of it. ....

"I understand that they want this game to be (competitive), and they've accomplished that. But I don't think you can have microphones (in the dugout). I don't think you can do both. I just don't think you can do both."

The odd nature of the game's rules cost Mussina again a year ago, his final year in the major leagues, even though the game was being played in Yankee Stadium. The manager now is so limited in the decisions he's able to make -- thanks to the fan vote, the player vote and the requirement that every team be represented -- that he has almost no control over his roster.

"Mussina, in my opinion, was a special case," Francona said. "He was a Yankee and he's been a Yankee and he had a great year going. We had no chance to put him on the team. I had no chance. I didn't want to have to explain it, but because of the rules in place, I had no way to do it. I thought he would have been a great selection."

Red Sox draft-day stories

Projected No. 1 overall pick Stephen Strasburg has announced that he will hold a press conference to discuss his selection not at home and not at San Diego State but at the headquarters of the Boras Corporation in Newport Beach, Calif.

My, how times have changed.

With the draft now just a day away, here's a look at some of the draft-day memories of some of the first- and second-round draft picks who wear the "B" on their cap these days:

1980: Terry Francona
Francona was in Omaha, Neb., where he and his University of Arizona team were about to win the College World Series. They'd lost their first game to St. John's but wouldn't lose again; they beat Michigan by an 8-0 score the day before the draft and would beat Hawaii, California and Hawaii again to win the NCAA title. Francona, in fact, hit .458 in six games in Omaha and was named the College World Series MVP.

Francona was drafted No. 22 overall by the Expos -- right in front of future Oakland Athletics general manager Billy Beane.

"John McHale Sr. called the room at the hotel," Francona said. "You didn't know -- and then the phone rang. That's how I knew. There wasn't a whole lot of communication. There wasn't cell phones. My dad was basically my representative."

Francona had been one of the best college players throughout his junior season and even won the Golden Spikes Award as the nation's top amateur player. But he was only asked to fill out a couple of personality questionnaires, and he wasn't subjected to anywhere near the same scrutiny to which top amateurs now are subjected.

"I knew there were scouts around, but it wasn't quite the same then," he said. "There's a lot more money that you're paying these guys, so there's a lot more homework -- which is probably really good."

With his bonus money, Francona said, "I bought a -- what do you call it? -- a duplex as a rental property. Bad move. And I promised my sister I'd put her through school, but there were two things: One, I didn't think she'd go, and two, I didn't think I'd get drafted that high. I got shafted there.

"I actually bought a little bit of stock that did great -- great in terms of, I bought a couple of vans, but not great, like, I'm going to buy Pepsi."

1996: Mark Kotsay
Kotsay and the rest of the USA Baseball team that would win a bronze medal at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics two months later was in a dorm -- "a military barracks," he said -- in Millington, Tenn., the day of the draft that year. Skip Bertman, the LSU coach who would manage in the Olympics that year, was the one fielding phone calls from big-league teams and relaying the messages to his players.

"We didn't have cell phones -- we had pagers," Kotsay said. "Nobody was following the draft online. Nobody was brought in to do TV."

Bertman was a busy guy, too. Kris Benson (Pirates), Travis Lee (Twins), Braden Looper (Cardinals) and Billy Koch (Blue Jays) were the first four selections in the draft. Seth Greisinger (Tigers) and Chad Green (Brewers) came off the board at No. 6 and No. 8, respectively, and Kotsay went to the Marlins at No. 9.

That high in the draft, there were few surprises.

"Everybody pretty much knew where they were going to get slotted in, for the most part, and what teams had advanced them," Kotsay said. "There wasn't really heckling or any joking around about it."

Kotsay would hit two home runs in a mercy-rule win over Italy in the opening round of the Olympics that year, but Team USA eventually fell to a Japanese team featuring, among others, Kosuke Fukudome and Tadahito Iguchi.

2000: Rocco Baldelli
The suspense ended quickly for Baldelli, whose Bishop Hendricken (R.I.) high school baseball team was scheduled to play in a playoff game the day of the draft. He spent the early part of the day over at a buddy's house, shooting pool and watching TV, thinking more about the playoff game than the draft. School was over and graduation was next on the horizon, so Baldelli didn't have to think about much other than baseball and hanging out with his friends.

The outfielder had gone into his senior season as a draft prospect, but he didn't expect to be drafted high enough to forgo a scholarship offer from Wake Forest and turn pro right away. As his senior season progressed, though, he became aware he'd started to climb up draft boards. By the time draft day arrived, he was well aware he'd go pretty early in the first round.

Still, though, he wasn't following along when the draft began. There wasn't any way to follow along.

"I didn't follow it at all, to be honest with you," he said. "There was definitely no TV -- the most it probably was at the time was that the top five picks probably scrolled across on the "Bottom Line" on TV. That was probably the most we were going to get."

While he was still hanging out at his buddy's house, he got a call with a hint that the Devil Rays, picking No. 6 overall, were planning to draft him if he still was available. It wasn't until he got to Bishop Hendricken for his team's game, though, that he was notified by local reporters that he'd officially been picked.

He and Bishop Hendricken then went on to win their fourth straight Rhode Island state baseball title.

2004: Dustin Pedroia
Pedroia's junior season at Arizona State had come to an abrupt end at the hands of Cal State-Fullerton two days earlier; the then-shortstop had gone 0-for-3 with a walk as the Sun Devils bowed out before even reaching the Super Regional stage. (Arizona State was the top seed in the regional and No. 7 seed overall but had to travel to Fullerton, Calif., for the regional. Don't think that didn't grate on Pedroia.)

Pedroia had hardly given any thought to the draft. He was still too upset about the defeat. Just like the year before, his Sun Devils had been beaten by Cal State-Fullerton short of the College World Series.

Unlike the players at the very top of the board, players who had a pretty good idea who might draft them, Pedroia had no idea. He'd had almost no contact with the Red Sox, and he'd done little homework on the other players with whom he was competing.

"There's so many players, you know what I mean?" he said. "There's so many players and so many picks. You can't wrap up in, 'Oh, this guy's picking here,' and 'That guy's still out there.' There's so many players -- and you don't even know the high school players. There's a ton of them. Anything can happen in the draft, and that's why it's fun."

Still, though, he and a couple of teammates gathered in the office of Arizona State coach Pat Murphy to follow the draft. Pedroia had reasonable expectations of being drafted in the first round, but it wasn't until after the 64th pick that the phone rang. It was the Red Sox. "Like two seconds later," Pedroia said, they called his name to make it official.

2006: Daniel Bard
Bard's first draft party did not go well.

The 6-foot-4 righty was a highly touted prospect as a senior pitcher at Charlotte (N.C.) Christian High School, and he had 10 high school friends over at his house to follow the draft. Based on talent, he had a shot to be drafted in the first couple of rounds -- but his commitment to pitch at North Carolina ended up dissuading far more teams than he expected.

"I didn't go until the 20th round," he said with a chuckle, "so the party didn't last long."

Three years later, there were no worries about him sliding to the 20th round. He'd had a few conversations with teams that were drafting at the top of the first round, in fact, and he fully expected to hear his name called early. He and his family went to a restaurant in Chapel Hill, N.C., and set up a laptop on a table in a quiet corner to wait for his name to be called.

But then he started to slide again.

The online ticker and audio broadcast weren't quite synced -- "The audio was way behind the ticker," he said -- and that made the draft difficult to follow. Either way, though, the first 10 teams all passed on Bard. So, too, did the next 10 teams. All of a sudden, there was a long line of teams set to pick who'd had very little contact with Bard just because they never expected him to last beyond No. 15 or 20 overall.

The Red Sox had met in the fall with Bard and North Carolina teammate Andrew Miller -- Miller was drafted at No. 6 overall by Detroit and now pitches for the Florida Marlins -- almost as a formality. Both pitchers filled out a questionnaire, but that was it.

The first time Bard's phone rang, it was an old coach who was working as a scout for St. Louis. The Cardinals had the No. 30 pick, and the scout wanted to know if Bard would sign for "slot" -- the bonus recommended by the commissioner's office recommended for each draft pick -- if he lasted until No. 30 and the Cardinals drafted him.

"Um, man, I can't really give you a definite answer on that," Bard said.

Before Bard could even finish his sentence, though, the scout cut him off.

"Whoops, sorry -- congratulations, man," he said -- and hung up.

"Congratulations for what?" Bard said, but he already was speaking to emptiness.

"I didn't know what he was saying, 'Congratulations,' for," the rookie relief pitcher said this weekend. "I looked and they were on, like, pick 18. I didn't end up going until 28, so that's how behind our (computer) was."

Ellsbury move reveals Francona's lack of sentimentality

Fans and writers alike were all over Terry Francona for the first six weeks of the season about dropping David Ortiz in the batting order. Francona held out as long as he possibly could before making the move.

Not a soul breathed a word about dropping Jacoby Ellsbury in the batting order. (Well, OK. That's not entirely true.) Four days after Ellsbury's 22-game hitting streak ended, though, Francona dropped him in the batting order.

This ought to tell you something about a manager many criticize for being too loyal or too sentimental. The general theory about Francona's reluctance to pull the trigger with Ortiz was that he either was living in the past or was too afraid to butt heads with a player he considered more of a friend than an employee. He was too much of a players' manager, some said, to do what was right for his team.

But Francona loves Ellsbury, too. The kid works hard. He plays hard. The ladies go wild for him.

And when it became obvious that his 22-game hitting streak was a mirage and his .332 on-base percentage at the top of the Red Sox lineup was not, though, he put him where he probably needs to be at this point in his career: At the bottom of the Red Sox lineup.

Ellsbury is as fast as anyone in the league. But when you hit in front of Dustin Pedroia, Kevin Youkilis and Jason Bay, speed isn't as important as getting on base. If Pedroia hits a double up the gap, it doesn't really matter if you can score from first or not. With Youkilis, Bay and J.D. Drew coming up, odds are you're going to end up crossing the plate.

You can't score, though, if you don't get on base -- and Ellsbury, even with a 22-game hitting streak on his resume, has an on-base percentage seven points lower than the American League average. No player in baseball has as more plate appearances as Ellsbury without walking at least a dozen times.

Check out this comparison:
* Ellsbury: 228 plate appearances, 11 walks
* Pedroia: 227 plate appearances, 28 walks

It simply makes the most baseball sense for Ellsbury to hit eighth or ninth given where he is in his development as a player -- just like it made the most sense for Ortiz to keep hitting third for as long as possible. Ortiz, at his best, is the epitome of a No. 3 hitter. He's a guy who can hit doubles and home runs while still seeing plenty of pitches and even taking a walk once in a while. Only when it became clear that his slump was more than a slump did Francona drop him in the order.

No one's saying he can't be a leadoff hitter later in his career. He just can't be a leadoff hitter right now -- and by moving him down in the order, Francona showed he's not afraid to put statistics in front of sentimentality.

Red Sox knot up Mayor's Cup

"I think we sent a message," Red Sox manager Terry Francona said after his team's 2-1 victory over the Twins at Hammond Stadium on Sunday. (Kevin Youkilis hit a wind-blown home run and Dustin Pedroia hit a bases-loaded sacrifice fly to account for the scoring.)

Francona couldn't quite keep a straight face, though. He paused for a moment before chuckling.

The Mayor's Cup, the annual competition between the Red Sox and the Twins in Fort Myers, has become something of a running joke at spring training. The Red Sox won last season's trophy, but even Francona had to double-check that fact before the first meeting between the two teams.

Some joked that the Red Sox had stacked their pitching for today's game with Josh Beckett (two shutout innings), Tim Wakefield (two shutout innings), Jonathan Papelbon (one shutout inning), Hideki Okajima (one shutout inning) and Takashi Saito (one shutout inning). The Red Sox, after all, had lost the first game of the five-game series by a 5-2 score last week.

"We've got our backs against the wall," Francona told reporters before the game, his tongue still embedded in his cheek.

That, of course, was purely coincidental. The result of today's game, of course, is worth as much as the result of tomorrow's game against the Orioles in Fort Lauderdale: Nothing.

Memories of Philly less than fond for Francona

Make no mistake: Terry Francona would like nothing more than to spend the last weekend of October in Philadelphia. It’s not, though, because he misses the fans who booed him out of town in 2000 after four seasons as Phillies manager.

It’s because it would mean his team was playing in its second straight World Series.

“I went through some really tough times there,” he said a few hours before his Red Sox faced elimination in Game 5 of the American League Championship Series on Thursday. “It’s hard for me to be all warm and fuzzy about the city. That’s just the way it is.

“But there are some people there I care a lot about. You can’t go through four years there and not care about them. … There’s a lot of people I’m really thrilled for.”

Francona took over the reins after the Phillies won 67 games and finished last in the National League East in 1996; his teams finished last, third twice and last again in 2000 before he was fired and replaced by Larry Bowa.

“In Boston, they’re very vocal, but there’s more love for their players here,” he said. “They want them to do good so bad that when they don’t, it just kills them.

“In Philadelphia, it turned to hatred in a hurry – like ball one.”

His roster was not sensational, either.

He had some talent, certainly; Bobby Abreu, Scott Rolen and Mike Lieberthal all were in their prime, and Curt Schilling (then 33 years old) and Paul Byrd (then 29 years old) made a combined 33 starts as part of a rotation that also included Randy Wolf and a chock-full-of-potential Bruce Chen.

But shortstop Jimmy Rollins played in just 14 games as a rookie in 2000, and Pat Burrell likewise got his first taste of the big leagues in 111 games split between first base and the outfield. Chase Utley spent the 2000 season in Single-A Batavia, while Ryan Howard wouldn’t even be drafted until the following June.

Bowa’s Phillies would win 86 games and finish second in the division in 2001. They would finish under .500 just once more on their climb to back-to-back division titles under Charlie Manuel last season and this season.

“Our thing was to try to help some young players get better and survive,” he said. “That’s now what they’re doing now. They’re trying to win a World Series. It’s vastly different.”

Philadelphia, though, became a place Francona suddenly wanted to visit when the Phillies polished off the Dodgers in Game 5 of the National League Championship Series. Left-handed ace Cole Hamels tossed seven impressive innings, surrendering five hits and one run, and earned NLCS Most Valuable Player honors.

No matter how much the city might still hate him, there’s nowhere else Francona would rather be next week.

“They can throw stuff at me -- I don’t care,” he said. “That would be great.”

Storytime with Terry Francona: Third base

It's not an easy transition, going from first to third the way Kevin Youkilis has this series for the Red Sox. Terry Francona knows. He did it once.

(In case you're wondering what happens when reporters meet with Francona before games, well, this is it. Sometimes it's on topic -- sometimes there are pressing questions to ask about Josh Beckett or Mike Lowell. Sometimes, though, this happens.)

It was the last day of the 1985 season. Francona's Montreal Expos were at Shea Stadium to play the Mets. Shortstop Hubie Brooks was pinch-run for after a fourth-inning single, and manager Buck Rodgers needed someone to take his place in the field. Thing is, no one was in the dugout. No one.

No one, that is, except Francona, and Francona was a left-handed fielder. Lefties don't ever play the infield in the major leagues -- being a left-handed fielder built like a second baseman was, in fact, what ended the Little League career of his particular writer.

But it was the last day of the season, and there was no one else.

"(Brooks) was in the clubhouse, and I saw Buck looking around, and there was nobody -- I mean, nobody," he said. "Vance Law wasn't playing. ... I looked around, and I said, 'Buck, I'll go out there.' He goes, 'OK!'"

There was no way Rodgers was going to play Francona at shortstop. But he did move Fred Manrique from this base to shortstop and put the left-handed Francona in at third base.

"I went out there, and Larry Bowa tried to bunt," Francona said. "I wanted to (expletive) kill him."

(Bowa showed bunt but pulled it back; he ended up grounding out.)

"Ray Knight hit a dribbler right over the mound; I came in and caught it and it rolled up my glove, but I threw him out," Francona said. "I only had one play and made it. ... I stayed open and let it go (awkwardly) as I was running in."

But he "panicked" when he saw closer Jeff Reardon coming in to close an otherwise meaningless game, and that's when Law made it into the game in Francona's place.

"He's got an incentive based on his saves," Francona said. "I said, 'I want no part of staying in this game.' ... I said, 'Buck, I want no part of him losing a quarter of a million dollars -- no part of this.'"

(Check out the box score from that game, by the way, and all the future managers involved: Francona, Bowa, Knight, Ron Gardenhire, Ned Yost -- and A's general manager Billy Beane.)