Requiem for the Infamous # 6

In 2008, the year the Boston Red Sox bid a final farewell to the uniform number six, the paths of two former Red Sox players would cross. Both men will forever go down in team lore. One man finally being welcomed back home after being vilified and ostracized for costing the franchise the ultimate prize, a World Series ring. The other man, known as “Mr. Red Sox” representing all that was good about Red Sox baseball, was to be recognized for a 59 plus year association with the franchise. What could these two men have in common? As you will discover, more than you think. And it starts with the number they wore…6.

  Red Sox management would have us believe, of course, that this ceremony of retiring number 6 was done to honor “Mr. Red Sox”, Johnny Pesky. I would argue that it has as much to do with the former man I referred to above, the much maligned Bill Buckner, if not more. It was a Friday evening in September that Sox brass readied to execute their plan to rid themselves of this numerical nightmare. However, the evil spirits of past Sox failures fought the attempt to eliminate this demonic digit, albeit in vain. The ceremony had to be postponed until Sunday for ol’ number 6 as, quite fittingly, it poured rain.
 
Number 6 now adorns the right field façade. It is among truly great company sitting alongside the numbers of Hall of Fame Red Sox Cronin, Doerr, Rice, Yastrzemski, Williams, Fisk, and the great Dodger Jackie Robinson. Some naysayers scoffed at this gesture. People of this ilk would chirp, “Pesky’s not in the Hall of Fame. He’s just an old guy that has been around the Sox for a long time. Why is his number up there?” Others would worry, “Uh oh, the Sox are lowering their standards for a light hitting infielder. The significance of this type of honor will be lessened. Really, I mean, he wasn’t the player the rest were.” They almost had me too. Another one of the legions of Sox fans, trapped in a web of ignorance and elitism. But no! I wouldn’t allow this cynicism. I could see the big picture. Do they not know of the agony and suffering this number has wrought? To their misguided view of the importance of this moment in Red Sox history, I say, “Wake up you fools! This is an absolute necessity. We could not cope with another player suffering under the spell of number 6. Do you realize the heartache that this number has cost this franchise?” The symbolism of the number 6 is apparently legendary and its ruler is the Goddess of love, Venus. Spiritually, it represents harmony, balance, sincerity, love, and truth. Ha! What a croc! Venus is definitely not a member of Red Sox Nation. Finally, no Red Sox player will ever wear this number again. Amen! For I knew there was more to all this than meets the eye… something the Red Sox management also knew that they weren’t telling anyone… even bigger than Pesky himself. It’s time to look at this conspiracy through the eyes of as Red Sox fan who knows the truth; how this tragic number coincides with World Series failure. I will now refer to this phenomenon as the “SHITS” (Six Hex In The Series) and I’ll begin with the senior wearer, Johnny Pesky. 

   
The 1946 campaign saw the Sox win 104 games and roar to a first place finish 12 games ahead of the Detroit Tigers. The Red Sox World Series drought would finally end, a year after the Second World War. Their last appearance in the Fall Classic was a 4-2 series win in 1918 against the Chicago Cubs. In that series, Babe Ruth had won two games as a pitcher for the Sox. One of the key members of that hard hitting Boston team was shortstop Johnny Pesky. He led the American League in hits that year with 208 and was named to the all-star team with a BA of .331. Pesky would reach 200 plus hits two other times with the Sox: in 1942 and 1947. In both of these seasons he was the American League leader in this category as well. Pesky career was shortened by serving with the United States Navy along with teammate Ted Williams. A lifetime .307 hitter, Pesky was known as a terrific contact hitter and marvelous bunter. In over 4,745 ABs he only struck out 218 times. Ironically, the pole down the right field line was named in honor of Pesky by former teammate Mel Parnell. Pesky only totaled 17 Major League homers for his career. In the field, he was a reliable playmaker. 
 

Picture from left to right : Dom DiMaggio, Ted Williams, Bobby Doerr, Johnny Pesky, and Joe Dobson. 

  Boston would face the St. Louis Cardinals in the Series. The Cardinals punched their ticket to the Fall Classic by beating the Brooklyn Dodgers in a first ever best of three playoff series for the pennant. Both teams were tied for the National League lead after regulation play. The series would be a see-saw affair as each time the Sox took the lead in games, the Cards would even things up. After six games, nothing could be decided so the curtain rose for one of the most memorable seventh games in World Series history. After 7 innings in fabled Sportsman Park, the Cardinals were ahead 3-1. With two out, Red Sox centerfielder Dom DiMaggio, Joe’s younger brother, would knot the game in the top of the eighth ripping a double into right centerfield driving in a pair of runs. This would prove costly later as he would injure his knee and not return to his centerfield position. With DiMaggio in scoring position, up comes Ted Williams but he is retired on a popup. In the bottom half of the inning Enos (Country) Slaughter led off with a single. What happens next is a subject of much debate. 

Harry Walker laced a shot over Pesky’s head to left-center field. Remember, slick fielding DiMaggio is out of the game with an injury from running the bases. The man in his place is Leon Culberson. Culberson was out of position on the play and bobbled the ball briefly. By the time he relays the ball to Pesky in short left field, Slaughter is about to complete his historic “Mad Dash” and put the Red Birds ahead for good, 4-3. It is thought that Pesky, surprised to see Slaughter rounding third, freezes for an instant allowing Slaughter to score easily all the way from first base on Pesky’s late throw up the left field line. Later, it was revealed that Slaughter was stealing on the batted ball and had a terrific jump. Knowing that DiMaggio wasn’t in center, he ran through the stop sign by the third base coach and raced for home winning the series for St. Louis. For Red Sox fans, it was “Wait Until Next Year” once again. Pesky was a victim of circumstance. Had DiMaggio been in centerfield, Slaughter may have then been cut down at the plate or maybe doesn’t try to score at all. Then, who knows what may have happened? Pesky is the first man cursed with number 6 in the Series. Heroic until the end, Pesky would not direct any responsibility toward Culberson. He “fell on his sword” as he was later quoted as saying, "I'm the goat. I never expected he'd try to score. I couldn't hear anybody hollering at me above the crowd. I gave (Enos) Slaughter at least six strides with the delay. I know I could have nailed him if I had suspected he would try for the plate. I'm the goat - no doubt about it." Was he? Was it really is fault or was he simply the pawn for the black magic of number 6? This would be the first instance of the SHITS for Red Sox fans.

When I think of the Red Sox and number 6, I am immediately reminded of Bill Buckner not Pesky. In my era of Sox fandom, it is “Billy Bucks” that I recall wearing that number with much dignity. He epitomized blue-collar Red Sox work ethic. He joined the Sox from the Cubs in 1984. In close to four seasons, he averaged about 12 HRs 80 RBI (in both ’85 and ‘86 he had over 100) and hit at a .279 clip. He has over 2,700 hits lifetime with a .289 career BA. It was once said by a teammate that Buckner could “foul off machine gun bullets.” He never struck out more than 40 times in any of his 22 years in the Majors (only 453 times in over 9,300 ABs). However, it is the 1986 season that many will forever remember this classy first sacker.

Buckner had played much of that ’86 campaign on wonky ankles. Sabermetricians of today would have a field day (pun intended) with his UZR as this stat wouldn’t have been much of a bargaining chip for Bill. His ankles pained him so much that he took to wearing high topped cleats for extra support and his mobility was quite limited. Still, Buckner had a solid season appearing in 153 games hitting .267 with 18 HRs and 102 RBI. He played a huge role in leading the Sox to a first place finish in the AL East 5 ½ games ahead of the hated Yankees.

In the ALCS against the California Angels, the Sox staged a memorable comeback spearheaded by a dramatic extra inning home run by Dave Henderson in game 5. The Sox would roar back from being down 3 games to 1 to take the series in 7 games. In all four of the Red Sox wins, due to Buckner’s chronic ankle problems and limited range, Dave Stapleton was put in as a pinch runner/defensive replacement (games 2, 5, 6, & 7) by then Sox skipper John McNamara.

At the onset, the 1986 World Series seemed destined to put all long suffering Red Sox fans out of their misery. The Sox roared into Shea Stadium and pull the rug out from under the hometown Mets taking the first two games. Lefthander Bruce Hurst threw a masterful 1-0 shutout in the opener and Sox hitters chased young phenom Dwight Gooden in the second game to win easily 9-3. Everything was working. Sox fans are thinking, “Could it be a sweep?” Then disaster strikes. The Mets respond by taking the first two in Fenway to regain home field advantage. The Sox couldn’t overcome an early 4-0 first inning lead in game 3 and lost 7-1. In game 4 Gary Carter hit two homers to lead the Mets to a 6-2 victory. With the series now a best of three affair, game 5 was a must win and the home team delivered. Again Dwight Gooden had no answers for the Red Sox and was outdueled by the crafty Bruce Hurst as the Sox rolled to a 4-2 win. And, true to form in the Sox victories (games 1, 2, and 5), McNamara lifted Buckner in favor of Stapleton in the latter stages of these contests.

Now, we come to Game 6. There’s that number again. It’s also on Bill Buckner’s back. When people talk of “Game 6” you immediately know what they are referring to. You needn’t ask the sport, the venue, the teams involved… it’s universal. Prophetically, in an eerie manner, Buckner was asked weeks before the World Series began what his worst nightmare was as a player. His response – “The worst nightmare is letting the winning run score on a ground ball going through your legs.” Still think there’s nothing to the hex of number 6? Bear with me now as I relive those haunting memories,  but even after all these years, it is cathartic for me.

 

The Sox took a 3-2 lead to the eighth inning at Shea and, there is a chance for more. Henderson stands on second with one out and McNamara makes his first blunder. He sends up then rookie Mike Greenwell to hit for Clemens. He strikes out with slugger Don Baylor on the bench and no runs are plated. The Mets score in the bottom of the inning to tie it. Now on to extra innings...Henderson comes through in the clutch again in the top of the tenth homering off Rick Aguilera. Vin Scully, who was announcing the game, said of the Hendu blast, “It’s so quiet here in New York, you can almost hear Boston.” Then Wade Boggs drives in Marty Barrett. It’s now 5-3. Calvin Scharldi comes on in the bottom of the inning and quickly gets two outs. Could this finally be it? A World Series ring at long last! The scoreboard in right center field even briefly flashes “Congratulations Boston Red Sox, 1986 World Series Champions.” The plastic protective coverings were placed over the stalls in the visiting clubhouse, champagne was delivered and set to go and media scrambled to position themselves for the chance to interview members of this long suffering franchise as they entered the clubhouse.

Alas, it was not to be. Gary Carter and Kevin Mitchell would single to bring up Ray Knight. Scharldi gets him down to his last strike, 0-2…the Mets last strike…and he would spoil the party by singling home Carter. Now it’s 5-4 with runners on the corners. In comes Bob Stanley who uncorks a 2-2 wild pitch with Mookie Wilson at the plate allowing the tying run to score from third. Knight moves to second base. All the while, who is watching this unfold at first base? Bill Buckner! “Bill, why are you out there? Why hasn’t McNamara pulled you for Stapleton?” McNamara would explain later that he wanted Buckner on the field for the final out. It never came. Wilson sent a slow roller up the first base line. The pictures below tell the rest of this excruciatingly painful moment. No man, especially one as decent as Bill Buckner, deserved such a fate. To this day, I don’t even discuss game 7. It shouldn’t have happened and I still refuse to go there. 

 In “Billy Bucks” case, I obviously place the responsibility squarely at the feet of manager John McNamara for giving us the SHITS once again. As I pointed out, Buckner was always lifted with the lead for defensive purposes. McNamara’s noble attempt to have Buckner on the field for the celebrations clouded his judgment. He led with his heart, not his head and, this resulted in forever blemishing the career of a very good Major Leaguer.

The ceremony for Buckner was appropriately and, somewhat ironically, held on Ring Day. This was a welcome home that was long overdue but in the fickle world of professional sports, winning cures all evils. In light of this reality, it was impossible to acknowledge Buckner until a championship was won. It really should have been done in 2005. Like Pesky, Buckner deflected the blame from McNamara on the day he returned by saying, "You go back and you could look at that series and point fingers in a whole bunch of different directions. John McNamara's taken a lot of heat. I don't think that's deserved." In my mind, McNamara deserved it and then some. When I looked back on Billy Buck’s return, my eyes still well up with tears. Never was a ceremony as vital at Fenway as it represented a healing of past failures, forgiveness (both on the part of the fans and Buckner himself), and the official beginning of a new era of Red Sox baseball.


Still not convinced of the SHITS? For those still with reservations, consider the 1967 and 1975 World Series appearances made by the Sox. Was there a number 6 on the roster? Yep, is was none other than Rico Petrocelli. Rico was a very productive player and Red Sox hall of famer gifted with a rare combination of power and glove work for a shortstop at the time. Now Rico wasn’t directly responsible for any loses in those appearances that I’m aware of, but he carried that poltergeist on his back which crippled the Sox, not once, but twice! Good God, three number 6’s now! Isn’t 666 called the “Unholy Trinity”? There was no doubt in the course of action Sox management had to take. They had dodged two bullets already as no player on the Red Sox roster for the 2004 and 2007 world championship teams wore number 6. A grateful Nation now rests easy.

So now you can see that when I catch a glimpse of those retired numbers in right field, there is no question where my reverence lies. Think about it. The other Red Sox who wore those numbers may have been Hall of Famers but they never won anything. Now the number that kept us from winning will be forever vanquished, unable to cast its spell, nameless there forevermore. Oh, and one more thing, when I did my research on the meaning of number six I found this tidbit: “Sixes beckon us to administer compassion and consciously choose forgiveness in a situation.” With the tributes given to Buckner and Pesky, surely we have pleased the spirits.