Happy Birthday, Yaz!

Shank catches up with the former Red Sox left fielder:

Catching up with the great Carl Yastrzemski as he turns 85, and other thoughts

Picked-up pieces while trying to learn the NFL’s ridiculously complex new kickoff rules …

▪ Carl Yastrzemski is New England’s historic, hardball J.D. Salinger. He’s our Garbo. Yaz gave us great work for 23 big league seasons and now he just wants to be left alone.

The greatest living Red Sox player — and the team’s career leader in games (3,308), runs, hits, and total bases — turned 85 Thursday. He says he’s no longer fishing or playing golf, but he’s watched a lot of Sox games on TV this season and keeps close tabs on his 34-year-old grandson, Mike, who’s in his sixth season with the San Francisco Giants.

The West Coast night games are tough on Grandpa Yaz.

“They get going at 9:45 and I’m sleeping by then,” he said with a chuckle.

Yaz on Papi - Who Was The Better Hitter?

Now that David 'Big Papi' Ortiz is heading into the Baseball Hall of Fame, Shank asks Carl Yastrzemski a rather pointed question:

With David Ortiz headed into the Hall of Fame, we asked Yaz: Who was the better hitter?

In the 1990s, when Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio made rare public appearances together, DiMaggio would insist on being introduced as “the greatest living ballplayer.”

The gracious Teddy Ballgame never objected and Willie Mays was not asked for his opinion.

I thought of that this week when Carl Yastrzemski returned a call and agreed to spend a few moments talking about David Ortiz, who will be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame on Sunday. Like Ted and Yaz, Big Papi was elected in his first year of eligibility.

So, Yaz, what is Ortiz’s place in Red Sox history?

“He was one hell of a hitter, you know?” says Yastrzemski, who turns 83 next month. “One of the best hitters the Red Sox ever had. Probably the only guy that was a better hitter was Ted.”

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Today's column has Shank waxing rhapsodically about Carl Yastrzemski's grandson.

In the old days, it would have been Sherm Feller, Fenway’s voice of God, making the majestic announcement from upstairs in the PA booth.

Now batting . . . Number 8, Carl Yastrzemski. Left field. Yastrzemski.

Tuesday night at Fenway Park, Henry Mahegan will do the honors when Giants outfielder Mike Yastrzemski (No. 5 in your program) steps into the same batter’s box where his grandfather, Carl, stood all those years ago.

“It will be the first time since 1983 that the name ‘Yastrzemski’ will be announced,’’ says Grandpa Yaz, now 80. “It’s definitely going to be emotional. To see him come into Fenway Park where I played for 23 years, to have his name announced, that will be a great thrill for me.’’\

It might just be the highlight of this sorry Red Sox season.

Isn't that a nice touch?

The Obligatory... Yaz Spring Training Column?

Shank sure seems reluctant to write about current Red Sox players, doesn't he?

FORT MYERS, Fla. — Carl Yastrzemski is the greatest living Red Sox player. He’s rarely seen in Boston, isn’t sure he’ll ever return to Cooperstown, but feels the love every time he returns to Fenway Park to throw a ceremonial first pitch before yet another World Series victory.

“I’m undefeated!’’ Yaz says with a big smile as he recalls his ceremonial tosses.

Still worshipped in the church of Boston baseball, Yaz turns 80 in August. He just became a great-grandfather (“They don’t send the pictures to me because I don’t know how to get them off the telephone”), but he’s still working with young hitters in the Red Sox minor league complex at spring training.

Yastrzemski is our Koufax. Out of sight, never out of mind.

No Heavy Lifting Required

A week in the city hosting the Super Bowl can make it difficult to come up with interesting themes to write about. We have already witnessed Shank overusing the Tomato Can insult a few times this week (like that's a shocker) and now he trots out the overused 'Mount Rushmore of Boston sports' theme one more time, just to make sure that horse is dead, dead, dead!

MINNEAPOLIS — The statues have spoken. The best of our best Boston athletes have voted. And a couple of them are willing to cede the gold medal platform of Boston sports to Tom Brady.

“Tommy will go down as the greatest athlete in Boston history,’’ Bobby Orr said this week. “There is no argument.’’

There is always an argument when it comes to rating sports stars, of course. In addition to Orr, we reached out to Larry Bird, Carl Yastrzemski, and Bob Cousy. Larry and Cooz allowed that Brady might be the top dog while Yaz joined Orr in conceding that Brady is The One.

There's one very curious omission here, isn't there?

Here in the Hub of the Universe, we think we’ve witnessed the best player ever in each of America’s four major sports. Boston’s Jock Rushmore — usually identified as Orr in hockey, Brady in football, Bill Russell in basketball, and Ted Williams in baseball — easily beats that of any other city in America.

Provincial Shank - where have you been?

Williams died in 2002, and the ever-reclusive Russell, now 83, was unavailable for comment (proof of John Updike’s reminder that gods do not answer letters). But Orr, Bird, Yastrzemski, and Cousy, all cast in bronze, were open to the suggestion that Brady might be the best of Boston’s best.

“Boston’s had a lot of great ones,’’ said Yaz, MVP of the American League in 1967. “Larry, Ted, Russell, Bobby Orr, don’t forget Big Papi.

I'm sure Shank wants no part of Big Papi.

In case you're wondering, heeeere's Larry!

Bird, who was MVP of the NBA three times from 1984-86, submitted, “I have played with and against some of the greatest clutch players in sports, and Tom is right up there with them.”

Go read the rest of it if you're interested in this sort of thing, but Shank does this column enough times during a year that just removes the interest in it for me, and probably a good number of other readers as well.

Shank's Getting Bored Already

That's the feeling that comes across as Shank writes his annual column on Carl Yastrzemski .

FORT MYERS, Fla. — His photo was on the cover of the Globe Magazine last Sunday — a 28-year-old Carl Yastrzemski chomping on a cigar, his head swathed in shaving cream, a throng of news photographers and cameramen following his every move.

It was the best of all the days in the best of all the seasons. It was Oct. 1, 1967, a Sunday afternoon, the final day of an epic regular season, and the Red Sox had just learned via their clubhouse radio that the California Angels had defeated the Detroit Tigers in Tiger Stadium, delivering the Boston Red Sox to their first World Series in 21 years.

“I think that was the best moment,’’ Yaz said last week in a telephone interview. “It was Sunday and we were behind and we rallied. That was a big thing. [Jim] Lonborg beating the bunt out. We were going up against a great pitcher in Dean Chance.’’

I'm sure you've read parts of this column before.

Yaz

Former Red Sox great Carl Yastrzemski makes one of his rare trips to Fenway Park, so we get a civil column from Shank.

Folks in the Fenway Park tour group had no way of knowing that there was greatness behind the wheel of the Ford Expedition in the dark underbelly of the ancient ballpark.

How could they possibly have known? They were an assortment of tourists from New Hampshire, Virginia, Texas — even a few from France. They wore Red Sox jerseys, had cameras in their hands, and seemed to be enjoying their discovery walk under the stands behind home plate.

Suddenly, a couple of Fenway security people asked the folks to step aside and make some room in the cramped space. A silver SUV was wedged between a couple of the load-bearing beams in the dark concourse and the vehicle was attempting to back up, pivot, and exit from the bowels of Fenway.

And so the tourists made room and the SUV maneuvered its way out of Fenway Park with precision and ease.

“Pretty good, huh?’’ said the smiling driver, Carl Yastrzemski, as he turned onto Yawkey Way. “I still got it.’’

His Column on Who's 'Best' is Like a Pile of No. 2

Years ago, I offered up my hypothesis of how The CHB prepares a column: He listens to talk radio for four or five hours, writes down the best lines, then builds a piece around that, with the central position to be 1) whatever is opposite of what the group-think is or 2) to hone in on (and attempt to bully) anyone who might possibly know more about sports than he does (which, of course, could be just about everyone).

And in today's piece, Shank confirms my observation. He writes: "If you were driving your car and somebody flipped on the radio and you heard people debating the merits of Carl Yastrzemski and David Ortiz, regarding their relative contributions to the Red Sox, how would you feel?"

Now, understand that the question was posed to Yaz himself. But also understand that this is exactly the conversation (if we can call the perpetually hyperventilating Tony Massarotti capable of such a thing) that took place on Felger and Mazz last week. So thank you, CHB, for being so transparent and predictable.

As for the answer, The CHB just as predictably gets it all wrong. Yaz had a lifetime OPS+ of 130 and a lifetime WAR of 78.2. A terrific leftfielder the earlier part of his career, he was actually five games worse than replacement level from 1969 on. Big Papi's career OPS+ is 139. But as to who is/was the better player? There's no question. Ortiz's career offensive WAR (47.2) is one-third offset by a negative defensive WAR of -18.6. Papi is roughly the same player as Jim Rice. This if it's a race between Papi and Yaz, it's Yaz, hands down. But if we are to include all previous Red Sox players, Jimmie Foxx and Manny Ramirez would come take the No. 2 and 3 slots, with the stunningly underrated Wade Boggs in the mix for the top five as well. A wiser columnist would have known this.

Black and White and Dumb All Over

It was an unusual night -- two international soccer teams squaring off at Fenway Park -- but The CHB gives it his usual treatment. To wit:

1. Mock soccer
2. Mock John Henry
3. Mock Red Sox
4. Offer off-topic history lesson in which the Boston Patriots, Carl Yastrzemski and Gino Cappelletti are mentioned
5. Mock Dr. Charles Steinberg

But the point, which Shank writes yet somehow misses, is captured in this line: "This was not a baseball crossover crowd."

Henry, upon buying the Red Sox, was asked about the fate of Fenway. He immediately recognized the possibilities in generating greater revenue from the park without necessarily having to increase the costs for baseball fans. Concerts, Bruins games, fan tours and other such sidelights are generating significant monies, which should be appreciated, not mocked, because they permit his investors to pay for the Sox from Sox monies only, not underwrite the cost of capital improvements by diverting cash from the baseball operations.

Instead, The CHB only seems to care about the (low) score, forgetting -- for a night -- how much he appreciates such baseball treasures as complete game shutouts and no-hitters.

Old School Shank

Are you surprised when The CHB takes a thread and pulls it until the entire "I'm Not With Stupid, I AM Stupid" t-shirt unravels?

Not us.

As such, we didn't bat an eye (get it?) when Shank used an otherwise innocuous David Ortiz comment about how David Price should have been suspended for throwing at (and hitting) Red Sox batters after being warned as an opportunity to rehash every insult -- real and imagined -- that Big Papi allegedly has inflicted on the game.

Keep in mind that The CHB, by his own admission, is about the only one bothered by Papi's comments. Shank's anger over Manny Ramirez being feted as part of the 2004 World Series winners must be carrying over.

Ted Williams routinely disrupted his team, played middling defense, defied his managers and ignored baseball etiquette. Carl Yastrzemski attempted to start his own league, publicly ripped his teammates, was fined for not hustling, and used PEDs (greenies).

Here's what Jim Bouton wrote about Yaz in Ball Four:

Yastrzemski was recently fined $500 for loafing and I've been keeping an eye on him. Sure enough, he hit a ball to second base today and loafed all the way to first. I'm afraid Yastrzemski has a bit of dog in him. Always did, and people around baseball knew it all the time. When things are going good Yastrzemski will go all out. When things aren't going so well he'll give a half-ass effort. But he's got so much ability that the only thing you can do is put up with him. 

Sound familiar?

The CHB likes to pretend he's part of the (self-appointed) old school of baseball, guarding the keys to the kingdom and making unilateral determinations as to who is -- and who isn't -- "right" when it comes to playing America's Pastime.

But then again, Papi is Hispanic, and no one in sports today does old school racism like The CHB.

Number 8

A few days ago, a statue of Carl Yastrzemski went up outside of Fenway Park. Shank was there, and we get a pretty good column out of it with lots of details.

John Harvard, Samuel Adams, Joseph Hooker, Paul Revere, James Michael Curley, Make Way For Ducklings.

Famous local statues, all.

Now make way for Yaz.

Carl Yastrzemski’s statue was dedicated outside Gate B at Fenway Park Sunday morning. At long last, the top performer in pennant-race history is cast in bronze outside the hardball house where he made his magic.
“It’s a tremendous honor,’’ Yaz said after the 40-minute ceremony. “This statue means as much to me as being inducted into the Hall of Fame and having my number retired.’’

Boston’s team owners and city fathers are assembling a nice little Freedom Trail dedicated to Hub sports. You can rub Red Auerbach’s bald pate as you stroll through Faneuil Hall Marketplace, salute Bobby Orr on the way into North Station, stare into the eyes of Cy Young in front of Churchill Hall at Northeastern, and admire Doug Flutie’s “Hail Mary” form outside BC’s Alumni Stadium. Pretty soon we’ll be toasting Bill Russell at City Hall Plaza, and the Sox already have immortalized Ted Williams and his “teammates” (Bobby Doerr, Dominic DiMaggio, and Johnny Pesky) at the intersection of Ipswich and Van Ness streets.

How Soon He Forgets

So now the Red Sox are the "most endearing, clutch, unlikely, loveable bunch" since the Carl Yastrzemski-led Impossible Dreamers of 1967.

2004, then, must have retreated ever so deeply into the recesses of Shaughnessy's scotch-infused brain. Does it really get more clutch than facing the best closer in the history of baseball while down a run in the ninth inning and down 3-0 in a best of four series against your longtime nemesis, only to come back and win? Sounds like something only Larry Bird could ..., oh wait, now I sound like him.


Suggestion: Never compare your future boss to Tom Yawkey, a notorious racist and likely the leading reason the Sox went 86 years without a World Series crown.