01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, October 5, 2003

BOSTON -- In the second inning alone, the Oakland A's committed three errors last night. An inning later, their catcher dropped a pop-up in front of the plate. Later, an Oakland outfielder missed the plate, shoved Jason Varitek in retaliation for a clean block of home and was tagged out 20 feet behind home plate.

And yet the A's were only the second-most embarrassing team on the field last night at Fenway Park.

The Sox may have committed just two errors to the A's four, but they had plenty else for which to apologize. It had nothing to do with their play on the field and everything to do with the way they conducted themselves off the field.

It began with the pregame introductions, when beleaguered closer Byung-Hyun Kim was introduced to the fans, eliciting some boos from the sellout crowd.

Kim's response? He extended his middle finger to the crowd, a move which shocked some of his teammates.

Though Kim, a native of Korea, has been in this country only a few years, it's doubtful he failed to comprehend the gesture he was making. This was not an example of cultural ignorance. This was plain ignorance -- in any language.

By all accounts, Kim is a sensitive sort, and the reception he's gotten in recent months couldn't have been easy to take. Still, he's endured worse -- the taunting at Yankee Stadium when he surrendered late-inning homers on consecutive nights in the 2001 World Series surely was tougher.

There's a long list of Boston athletes who've been mercilessly booed -- Steve Grogan, Bob Stanley, Mike Milbury and Vin Baker wouldn't begin to account for them all. None ever responded in the vulgar, immature way that Kim did last night.

Before the first pitch was thrown, before, even, the National Anthem was sung, the first playoff game at Fenway had gotten off to the wrong start.

But things got worse a few innings into the game when ESPN cameras showed four Sox players -- Doug Mirabelli, Lou Merloni, Tim Wakefield and Adrian Brown -- standing on the top step of the home dugout. On their jackets, spelled out with masking tape, was "Lilly," -- a reference to Oakland starter Ted Lilly -- spelled out phonetically, an invitation to the fans in attendance to chant Lilly's name in a mocking fashion.

Huh?

"That's bush league," said a disgusted Red Sox official. "That's something you might see in high school. Might."

And yet, there it was, in a postseason playoff game, for the nation to see. Talk about putting your best foot forward.

Where was Grady Little when someone came up with that brilliant idea? How does a manager -- or his staff of coaches -- allow such a classless display to take place?

In many ways, this Red Sox team has been an easy one to embrace. They won nearly a quarter of their games in their final at-bat, were particularly adept at finding ways to win one-run games, and displayed an admirable esprit de corps.

They dined together on the road -- virtually the entire roster and staff were seen at a San Francisco steak house the night before the start of the playoffs. Many of the players cut their hair short or shaved their heads prior to Game 3 as a collective show of unity -- and a way to inject some levity into what clearly was a dire situation.

Such a demonstration of togetherness has been all too rare in recent Red Sox history.

But it's possible to go too far with the frat-house attitude, and inviting fans to taunt an opponent clearly crosses the line.

Rally caps are one thing. Childish displays that lack sportsmanship are another.

Cowboy up? I have another idea.

Grow up.