If These Walls Could Talk

by Jerry Remy

  Morgan won 12 straight and 19 out of 20 to begin his tenure.

  Before Lou Gorman, our general manager at the time, gave the job to Joe permanently, we were looking for another manager, and the hot story was that Joe Torre was going to come and manage the Red Sox.

  I honestly believe through the first maybe five or six wins that they still had their eye open for another manager. But the team just refused to lose. There was an incredible thing going on. You had guys like Todd Benzinger and Kevin Romine winning games with big hits.

  It just kept going on and on and on, and I think finally they got to a point where Lou and Haywood Sullivan, one of the owners, just said, “Wait a minute, we probably don’t need another manager. We’ve got something good going.”

  It was pretty remarkable because you didn’t expect the team to make a run like that. The way they had been playing, where the team seemed a bit listless, to go from that to all of this energy and excitement was one of those rare baseball experiences where you go on the field and everything goes your way. You just don’t see that very often.

  It wasn’t a great team at that point. Obviously when you’re looking for a new manager, things can’t be that great. But Joe made it great. I don’t know if Joe was just a breath of fresh air for the players or the team just coincidentally started to play better.

  I’ve been in a situation as a player when we changed managers back in my Angels days. Dick Williams got fired in my second year in baseball and they named Norm Sherry the manager. I was crushed, because it was Williams who brought me to the big leagues. It was Grover Resinger, Dick’s top confidante and coach, who had really held my hand from the day I met him in Triple-A through my rookie season. Grover was my mentor with the Angels, and all of a sudden they were gone. I remember being so pissed at the time that the first game I played under Norm Sherry, I was hustling my butt off because I was so upset. I wanted to prove they had made a mistake. It was a weird feeling. It was an empty feeling because I felt like I lost my security blankets.

  I can’t say that ’88 team responded because of the change of manager, I think things just started to click. And I also think that particular group didn’t think that Morgan was going to be there very long. I don’t think they figured him to be a permanent manager with all the rumors going around that they were looking for somebody else.

  I’ve never been one to believe that a midseason change like that makes a huge difference. But they were playing their asses off on the field, so Joe should get the credit for that.

  I really wasn’t surprised McNamara was fired. John had been here quite a while and the shelf life, I’ve always said about managers in Boston, isn’t that long. Expectations are so high, and when the team is underachieving obviously the manager becomes the person you point at.

  They can’t get rid of the players. They can make changes but they can’t overhaul everything. John had his run here, there’s no question about that. I think it was time for them to probably make the move, and they did. And “Walpole Joe,” as he was called given the town he was from, became the fan favorite.

  I really give all the credit to the players on that because you just don’t run off streaks like that because you got a new manager. A lot of things have to go right. And I don’t mean that disparagingly to Joe, it’s just that it’s the players who are out there playing and doing the job. It’s their responsibility. When I played for a manager who got fired, I always felt like it was our fault because we didn’t do a good job. I never played for a manager who I disliked and I hoped got fired.

  You’re concerned about your own game. You’re concerned about how you’re playing, and you’ve got to continue to play well to be in the big leagues. I never had that experience where I said, “Gee, I hope they fire this guy because I’d play better for someone else.”

  Of course, the other shocking game was Game 7 of the 2003 American League Championship Series against the Yankees.

  Because it was a playoff game, I wasn’t broadcasting that one, but like everyone else, I was watching on TV. Before long, my wife, Phoebe, was yelling at the TV. The prevailing theme was that Grady Little left Pedro Martinez in the game too long.

  My feeling was Pedro had something left even though he had allowed hits to Derek Jeter and Bernie Williams, making it a 5–3 game. Grady came out to the mound and after talking to Pedro decided to leave him in. Hideki Matsui also got a hit. Then Jorge Posada hit a blooper to center which fell in to tie the game.

  I think Grady took a lot of heat. I could understand it from a fan’s point of view. From a baseball point of view, I wasn’t that against leaving him in. The only problem I had was that I think Pedro thought he was coming out. And once a player or a pitcher, in particular, thinks that he’s coming out of the game, it’s a whole different mindset after that.

  I had to listen to my wife yell at the TV at Grady, which all of New England was doing.

  I wasn’t as angry as everybody else in the baseball world was. I figured you’ve got Pedro Martinez out there, leave him out there. Of course, at that time the bullpen was lights out, too. And I think the combination of having a good bullpen and Pedro maybe looking like he was tiring is what made people mad.

  That ’03 team was an outstanding offensive team. It was really the start of the Golden Era of Red Sox baseball. For the first time in a while, people thought they could beat those great Yankees teams.

  That team led the league in just about every offensive category. They scored 961 runs. They hit .289. They had an on-base percentage of .360 and slugged at .491, which was even higher than the 1927 Yankees.

  It was the year that the Red Sox introduced David Ortiz into the lineup at DH. They started the year with Jeremy Giambi, but when he slumped Big Papi got his chance and he didn’t disappoint.

  It was just a great lineup with a great hitting approach. Bill Mueller, who was one of my favorite guys on the team, won the batting title with a .326 average. They had Johnny Damon, Todd Walker, Trot Nixon, Manny Ramirez, Jason Varitek, and Nomar Garciaparra. Just a stacked lineup. Ron “Papa Jack” Jackson was the hitting coach and he did a great job with the hitters.

  They beat the Oakland A’s in the divisional series in five games after being down 2–0. And then, in Game 3 of the ALCS against the Yankees, there were more fireworks. In a Pedro vs. Clemens pitching matchup, Pedro drilled Karim Garcia in the back and the two exchanged words. Pedro also made a gesture toward Yankees catcher Jorge Posada.

  Then Roger threw one high and tight to Manny and he charged the mound, which emptied both benches. It started to look like the old days when I played with the Red Sox and we and the Yankees truly hated one another.

  It was surprising to me to see Don Zimmer charge Pedro in front of the Red Sox dugout. Pedro turned and saw him and just tossed him to the ground. Zim was 72 years old at the time. He was my former manager with the Red Sox and I just thought it was a strange sight to see that happen.

  Anyway, the Red Sox were ahead in Game 7, 5–2. A three-run lead with Pedro pitching, well, you have to feel good about that. But the Yankees tied it up with three runs in the eighth inning. It went into extra innings and that’s when Aaron Boone hit the big first-pitch walkoff home run in the bottom of the 11th against Tim Wakefield at 12:16 am. The Yankees took the 6–5 win and went on to face Florida in the World Series.

  That home run set Yankee Stadium on fire. The fans were absolutely crazy, and it vaulted Boone into Yankees immortality. Now he’s their manager.

  It was crushing, really, and after that horrible loss, Grady was fired. Terry Francona was brought in. The Red Sox made some additions for ’04, including signing Curt Schilling, and the interest in that team just seemed to increase rather than decrease. The feeling was there was a chance to break the 86-year Curse of the Bambino. While people were crushed they didn’t do it in 2003, they had hope for 2004.

  It’s unfortunate that Grady was
placed in the same category as Bill Buckner, as something of a villain. It’s really awful. I’ve never been in those shoes where I’ve had to manage a game and make those kinds of decisions, so it’s hard for me personally to go through a manager’s thinking, the moves that he has to make or not make. In this case, I was sitting there saying to myself, “Leave Pedro alone. I’d leave him alone. I’m going with my best.”

  I had a good relationship with Grady, as I did with just about every manager I covered as a broadcaster.

  Grady Little takes the ball from Pedro Martinez in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS against the Yankees. (AP Images)

  I’d say the closest relationship I had was with Jimy Williams. Jimy came from the Angels organization and he was always managing a step or two down from where I was playing. So, we kind of had that Angels connection.

  I liked Jimy a lot. He was old school, and I think I probably had more baseball conversations with him than anybody else. I remember one night in Montreal back in mid-July of 2001. We were up there playing, and we later went out to dinner. He was as low as low could get, and this was toward the end for him.

  On the way back to the car he said, “Rem, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” The GM was Dan Duquette at the time and Jimy said, “The guy is driving me crazy. I just don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  I felt like I was riding back from dinner with a beaten manager. I knew that when he started telling me stuff that the end was near. I felt bad for him. But it was a perfect example of the incredible pressure that managers, especially those who manage the Red Sox, are under.

  If you can crack a guy like Jimy Williams, that’s saying a lot because he’s a pretty tough guy. He’d been through a lot in his career and finally got the chance to manage the Red Sox. He took a beating when he first came in. I remember his first press conference in November of 1997 where everybody was making fun of him because of the way he talked and the things that he said.

  He was known for his funny quotes like, “If a frog had wings, it wouldn’t bump its booty.” But he was a first-class individual.

  I’ve had good relationships with all of the Red Sox managers. John Farrell was great, and we had cancer in common. We talked a lot about that. When I’m dealing with a manager I try to ask questions that are relevant to the game. I don’t try to take up a lot of their time because their time is precious. You know how busy they are, what they’ve got to deal with media-wise, player-wise, preparation-wise, so I’m not one to go in and sit there and bullshit for a half hour. There are times I ask a question just for my own understanding and not something I’m going to repeat on the air. I think they respect me and trust me for that. So, I get information that you normally probably wouldn’t get. I try to stay away from trying to find out a lot of inside stuff. If they want to talk, I let them talk and I listen. Once in a while I’ll give an opinion, but I do my best to not be the type of guy who goes into the manager’s office, sitting there unannounced.

  Kevin Kennedy was a little bit different. He and Duquette didn’t get along at all and frequently were at odds, even though Dan brought Kevin here from their Montreal days together. I was shocked how their relationship deteriorated during the time that he was the manager here.

  I wasn’t as close to Kevin as the others. I can’t say that he was bad to me at all. But he had a very large ego which alienated him from players and others as well.

  I always got along great with Duquette. He was great to me. Of all the general managers that I’ve been around, he was terrific with me. And he still is.

  I kind of felt bad for him when the Red Sox won in 2004 because, nothing against Theo Epstein, but a lot of that team was put together by Duquette. We were at the World Series game and he had seats very close to where I was sitting on the third-base side near the dugout. It was shocking to me. Here’s the guy who really put this team together with the exception of a few players, and he’s literally sitting in the stands. It was a weird feeling to see that.

  “Duke” would talk to you a bit. A lot of the others were very quiet. Ben Cherington was very quiet. Theo was quiet. It’s not like the old days when the general managers used to float around and bullshit with the press, go have a pop with them after the game and stuff like that. Times have certainly changed. It’s not like that anymore.

  Lou Gorman was a great talker. He was an old-school guy. He talked a lot about baseball, but he was funny. He was a great human being, he really was. You could feel very comfortable going up and talking baseball with him and he’d probably say things he shouldn’t say.

  Even now, Dave Dombrowski is a bit more of an old-school general manager, even though he’s the president of baseball operations. But you ask him a question, he’ll give you an honest answer. I’ve never been around a general manager who travels with the club as much as he does. Never. He’s on 95 percent of the trips. That’s hard to do, but he feels like he wants to be close to the ballclub, to get the feel of the club. When I played, it used to be a big deal if a general manager made a trip. We’d say, “Oh shit, we gotta be on our toes.”

  Also, I can honestly say that I’ve really never had a beef with a player in all my years in broadcasting. I know that things we say on TV get back to the players. Or they sit in the clubhouse and wonder what the hell we’re talking about. I know that. But what I’ve always done as part of my job is make myself accessible to the players. I get to the clubhouse at a time when they’re very relaxed, before the regular media gets in there.

  The older I get, the worse I’m getting as far as how early I get to the ballpark. I’m in there some days at 1:30 pm for a 7:00 pm game. I beat a lot of the players to the ballpark. If the managers get there early, I like to get there early. I enjoy that time very much, sitting around and talking a little bit.

  I don’t go up and sit near the players’ lockers and bullshit with them because I remember not liking that when I was a player. I wanted to be by myself, I wanted to be with my own thoughts, I wanted to be with my teammates and talk to them. I don’t want to be a pain in their ass, but I also want to be available, so if anybody has a beef with anything that maybe I’ve said, I’m there. I’m accountable.

  That’s not to say they don’t think I’ve made mistakes on TV. One thing I am willing to do is if I say something wrong, I try to correct it. Any analyst who tells you that everything they say is correct is full of it. A lot of analysts act like what they say is gospel. Well, that’s not true. You make mistakes as an analyst. So if a player has an issue with something you may have said or how you said it, I’m there to listen. And if they’re correct and I’m wrong, I’ll go on the air and I’ll correct it. I’ve done that in the past. I think I get a little respect because of that. I think if they don’t see the broadcasters around and they’re making comments in the booth, I don’t think they respect that. That’s the way I’ve always tried to do it.

  When I got the job, originally, I was down there with the guys who I played with. I kind of kept that style, and I liked it. And it’s not like I’m getting inside information. I’m not getting anything different than the rest of the media gets. I just enjoy being in the atmosphere, and it’s like I’m getting ready to play a game. It makes me feel like I’m still a little bit of a player.

  I’ve seen a lot of different types of players in my career as a player and a broadcaster. There are the very serious ones. There are the ones who like stay loose. There are ones who are in between. And then there are the ones you can’t forget because they’re a little bit off center.

  Jonathan Papelbon was one of the strangest and craziest I’ve ever been around. He was always doing something crazy, but he was great. He had a great personality. I remember one time he was walking out to the bullpen and we had a camera set up out there and there was a microphone near the camera, and all of a sudden, he started to talk to us on TV.

  That was Papelbon. Nobody else would ever do that except Pap. He was a ch
aracter.

  There was one issue that popped up one time with Josh Beckett. We were on the plane and he came up to me and said, “Boy, Lester’s really pissed at you.” I think Jon had pitched that night, and I was curious as to why he would have been pissed. I didn’t recall saying anything about him that would get him angry.

  I got up right away and I walked back with Beckett and I went up to Jon, who was sitting way, way in the back in the last row. I said, “Jon, Josh tells me you got a problem? Would you like to talk it out?”

  He said, “What do you mean I got a problem?” So, Beckett was just busting my balls.

  You never know when something like that’s going to happen. You’re dealing with 25 guys and somebody’s probably got a problem with you. I always felt like the best way is to try to sit down with the person, discuss what the problem is. If he’s right, I’ll admit that I’m wrong. If I feel strongly that I’m correct, I’ll tell him off. But I haven’t had many of those confrontations.

  Even David Price started to come around. When he first came here, he was very quiet. It was tough to get a hello out of him. It was virtually impossible to have a conversation with him, but that was fine with me. If that’s his style, more power to him.

  There was one point a couple years ago, when I was getting nothing from him, not a hello, not a good-bye, totally nothing. He was going through tough times with his elbow and whatever injury was bothering him and he wasn’t in the best of moods. He was miserable. I understood that because when you can’t play, you’re miserable.

  I went up to him and I said, “David, can I sit down with you for five minutes?”

  And he said, “No, I’m busy right now.”

  So I said, “Okay, that’s good enough for me. If you don’t want to talk that’s fine.” And I walked away.