BOSTON -- Spalding Smails III is needy.
"I want a hot dog. I want a milk shake. I want potato chips."
"You'll get nothing and like it," growls Judge Smails.
Walking briskly through the clubhouse, Trot Nixon slows his pace when he
hears Judge Smails and smiles.
Caddyshack is on all the televisions in the Red Sox clubhouse. Nobody
seems to be watching the video very closely.
Reliever Casey Fossum is slumped on a leather couch in the middle of the
room, playing cards with future Hall of Famer Rickey Henderson and first
baseman Tony Clark. Manny Ramirez and Rey Sanchez are squired away in
the corner near the showers. Ramirez rocks on the back legs of his
folding chair, talking quietly, laughing occasionally. Third baseman
Shea Hillenbrand leans against a post, talking with a writer. Carlos
Baerga shouts in Spanish into his cell phone. Tim Wakefield talks
quietly into his.
On this rainy Wednesday afternoon in June, the beginning of the Red Sox
game with the Colorado Rockies is three hours away. It's also in some
doubt if the rain doesn't taper off.
Still, the pace in the clubhouse is deliberate. The feeling is
professional. The mood seems good. Not a bad place to work.
Later, when Caddyshack has been replaced by a video of a Rockies' game
against the Dodgers, Nixon looks around the room and considers the vibe
of the 2002 Red Sox.
"We've lost four of our last five and you can't tell," says Nixon, mired
at this time in a particularly ugly slump. "Chemistry has a lot to do
with how people react when you fall into a funk. I'm in a funk right
now, but everyone's been supportive. That's a big component of any team
that's successful. When times don't go well, you need your teammates to
back you. The mental approach and attitude this year has been awesome."
It's been fashionable to contrast those intangibles on this year's team
with last year's model. The one that imploded.
Some players take exception to that.
"I can't think of many who didn't care about each other on and off
field," counters Nixon.
"We got along last year, we get along this year," says Nomar
Garciaparra. "We've gotten along as long as I've been here."
There have been atmospheric changes though. The persistent, silent
rancor between players and management is diminished (if not,
nonexistent) now that general manager Dan Duquette is gone.
There's been little outward grumbling from players about how they are
used -- a constant in the last days of the Jimy Williams administration.
There is unanimous support for laconic manager Grady Little. Perceived
good guys -- Clark, Johnny Damon, Baerga -- have been added to the mix.
A perceived bad guy -- Carl Everett -- is out.
And the season's biggest story -- the ownership change and ensuing
honeymoon period -- has siphoned off a little bit of scrutiny and
changed the vibe.
What difference has that made on the field? The Red Sox today are 52-33
and in second place, two games behind the Yankees. At the All-Star break
last year they were 51-36, in second place and 11/2 games behind the
Yankees.
Bad chemistry didn't take that team down. Injuries to Garciaparra, Pedro
Martinez, Jason Varitek and Ramirez did. But there's no denying Fenway
Park wasn't a fun place to work by the end of last season.
"They went a long time winning last year until it all caved in and they
couldn't go anymore," says former Sox player and current TV analyst
Jerry Remy. "That's when it got ugly.
"Now they've got a rotten apple out of the clubhouse in Everett," Remy
adds. "As much as you don't pay attention to him, he becomes a problem
because so much attention is put on him . . . and you end up talking
[with the media] about him, not about what you should be, which is
playing the game.
"This year, the people they brought in are the right people. Damon's a
nice guy and Baerga's a guy who's getting a second chance, so he's happy
to put on a uniform every day. And Garciaparra, Varitek and Pedro are
healthy."
"When you lose players and you lose games, you can lose chemistry and
focus," admits Nixon. "We had great guys last year but we had injuries
and a lot of expectations. After a while, everything [that was
happening] around [the] ball club made it difficult -- not to play
baseball but to deal with people being happy."
"When you enjoy coming to the park and playing, you win and I think
that's what's happening around this ball club," says Henderson.
"Everyone said they were so miserable last year, but with spring
training this year [it felt positive]. Some of the guys [management] got
-- Baerga, myself -- we have fun and bring that to a team."
But just because everything seems placid on the surface now, doesn't
mean it won't get rocky later if the team starts to slide. But the odds
are far less of it getting as bad last year, when Martinez was openly
feuding with the front office and Garciaparra was saying to nobody in
particular and everyone in general one night, "That's why nobody wants
to [expletive] come here!"
"Management won't allow the same ugliness to occur," predicts Remy.
"Last year, things went awry," explains Varitek. "There was a lot this
team had to deal with, but there was a situation where people couldn't
get on the same page and put [themselves] aside and win ball games.
"In this clubhouse, we have quiet guys, guys who lead by example and
guys like [Baerga] who don't shut up. There's a lot of different types
of people, but everyone is pulling in the same direction."
