Sentinel & Enterprise

Wakefield in thoughts of ex-teammates

- By Gabrielle Starr gstarr@bostonhera­ld.com

The Red Sox will, as the front office loves to say, attempt to turn the page in 2024. How that will go is, as 2000s musician Natasha Bedingfiel­d sings, still unwritten.

However, the Red Sox will also flip back several chapters — 20 to be precise — to celebrate the anniversar­y of their historic 2004 season, the first in 86 years to culminate in a championsh­ip.

While the Red Sox have kept almost all specificat­ions — dates, times, attendees — under wraps, April 9 promises to be an emotional day. Chairman Tom Werner made it a point to mention the date at Winter Weekend. By some twist of fate, the home opener falls on 4/9 this year. As in 49, the number Tim Wakefield wore for his entire 19year career, including the last 17 seasons on the ’9511 Red Sox.

The 2024 schedule had already been set when Wakefield passed away suddenly on the final day of the ’23 season. He’d been diagnosed with brain cancer only months earlier, and his condition only made public — against his wishes — the week before.

A committed philanthro­pist and dedicated member of the organizati­on as a player and broadcaste­r, Wakefield remains beloved in Boston. It’s especially unfair, almost cruel that Boston is about to spend a year reminiscin­g about and feting the ’04 team, when he can’t be among them. Several of his teammates feel unprepared for what’s to come, Derek Lowe and Kevin Millar told the Herald in January. For many, his death still doesn’t feel real.

“It’s always gonna be tough,” Lowe said, before participat­ing in an annual charity golf tournament that he and Wakefield used to attend together.

“First time I’ve had to deal with losing a teammate,” added Millar. “But this was like a family member, obviously. … We were a unique team as far as the brotherhoo­d that we had. Besides winning a World Series, I think, you know, the nucleus of us are all in touch … no matter what, you’re family for life.”

Lowe and Wakefield became teammates in ’ 97, when the Seattle Mariners traded the rookie Lowe and a catching prospect named Jason Varitek to the Red Sox in exchange for Heathcliff Slocumb. Lowe and Millar, however, were only teammates for two seasons. Of course, they were ’03 and ’ 04, arguably one of the most pivotal stretches in franchise history.

The ’04 team won the club’s first World Series since 1918. In order to do so, they had to overcome the Yankees, who’d taken a 3- 0 lead in the penultimat­e round. As the person who surrendere­d the walk- off home run to Aaron Boone in Game 7 of the ALCS the year before, had Wakefield suffered a unique kind of pain. But in their ’04, he was instrument­al in Boston’s historic upset of their most hated rivals, the ultimate revenge and redemption.

No team had ever come back from such a deficit to win a best- of- seven series before, to say nothing of the championsh­ip drought that had been hanging over Boston’s head for 86 years. That’s the kind of gauntlet run that bonds people for life. However, according to Millar, they didn’t succeed where previous Red Sox teams had failed because they were the most talented; they were simply the right group of people, coming together at the right time.

“We were not the best players, we were the best team,” he said.

However, Millar’s fondest memory of Wakefield has nothing to do with baseball.

“People talk about his knucklebal­l and his 75 mph fastball, but I’m gonna tell you, he was a great guitar player,” Millar recalled. “He would play me guitar in my room during my 1-for-20s, when I was trying to get lucky, to get a hit. Wakefield was a tremendous guitar player. ‘ Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica. I remember him sitting on my dresser, we would put a little dip in, and basically, he would play guitar.”

“And those were the days and the times that you miss,” he continued. “It’s not so much the groundball to shortstop or the pop-up to the pitcher, but you miss that camaraderi­e, and that boys club that you had and that brotherhoo­d. I want everybody to know that this dude, he could’ve played in a band if he wanted to, but he chose to throw knucklebal­ls for 25 years.”

“He was a tremendous teammate,” Lowe said. “A great ambassador for the Red Sox, he’s sorely missed … we’d always laugh together. He’d sit there with his nerdy glasses and talk to everybody. He truly was a good friend, he really cared.”

No one’s quite sure how the Red Sox will celebrate the 20th anniversar­y of the season that changed everything. There will be hugs, tears, laughter, heartache, and probably some drinking. Jack Daniels, if Millar has anything to say about it.

“Some Jack Daniels drank, and just some hugs, and a lot of gray hairs,” he said with a chuckle.

“I imagine we’ll all get together at some point in Fenway and reminisce,” said Lowe, with the voice of someone already reminiscin­g. “Boy, does time fly by. I can remember so much about that series, and it’s 20 years ago.”

They know nothing will bring their teammate back, either, but they know exactly how to honor him.

“Live every day like it’s our last,” Millar said, “and be thankful for the time that we had and the memories that we have forever.”

 ?? HERALD FILE PHOTO ?? Tim Wakefield, right, gets a hug from former Boston Red Sox teammate Derek Lowe after Wakefield announced his retirement in 2012.
HERALD FILE PHOTO Tim Wakefield, right, gets a hug from former Boston Red Sox teammate Derek Lowe after Wakefield announced his retirement in 2012.

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