It's been my dream to go to Opening Day at Fenway Park since I was about six years old.
I figured I'd be somewhere around my 85th birthday by the time I had a chance to go, but I must be living right, because my mom scored a ticket through work. And guess who was the lucky recipient of that ticket?
Anyway, I had planned to write a column next Monday about how amazing my Opening Day experience was. But then I got to thinking: What if the Sox lose? What if Beckett gets injured? What if (God forbid) the experience just isn't as cool as I've built it up to be in my mind?
Then I decided to try to convey to you just why this experience is so special to me. But I couldn't. And since I can't type in a Boston accent, I really don't think this is the forum in which to explain the core beliefs of Red Sox Nation.
Instead, I'll use this space to talk about the one constant of my time as a fan of the Red Sox, the player who pitched for the Sox on the evening of my first game at Fenway, the player who I could still see pitch if I bought a ticket to a game this season: Tim Wakefield.
Yes, Wake was on the mound when my dad took me to my first game. And, if I recall correctly, he pitched a complete game for the victory. Not a bad start to my obsession, huh?
For those of you who don't know who Tim Wakefield is, or how he came to be one of the great constants of the Red Sox rotation over the past 10 years, here's a brief summary:
Wake was drafted by the Pittsburgh Pirates as a corner outfielder in the eighth round of the 1988 draft. After converting himself into a corner infielder, but still not having much success in the minors, Tim taught himself the pitch that would resurrect his career: the knuckleball. Wakefield burst onto the scene in 1992, when he went 8-1 with a 2.15 ERA down the stretch for the Pirates, who won the National League East. The next year though, he struggled with control problems that eventually led to his release from the Pirates in 1995.
The Sox scooped him up off the scrap heap, though, and he quickly returned to form, winning 16 games and helping Boston clinch a division title. Since then, Wake has been an invaluable asset to the Red Sox during stints as a starter, closer and middle reliever. In an age of overpaid players griping about teams not "respecting" them enough to pay them their presumed market value, Wakefield has been a model of loyalty. His contract is unique; each year, the Sox can choose to either pick up his $4 million option, or not. He will never become a free agent again.
But even more importantly, Wakefield is one of the most community-involved athletes in the major leagues. He has worked with the Franciscan Hospital for Children in Boston, and has been nominated multiple times for the Roberto Clemente Award, presented annually to the most charitable player in baseball.
I had the privilege of meeting Tim when I was about 12 years old at the American Cancer Society's "True Champion Awards." The picture I took with him still hangs in my bedroom at home.
I'm embarrassed to say that I used to complain to my parents that every time I went to a ballgame, Wakefield was on the mound. With all due respect to the knuckleball, I wanted to see Pedro.
Baseball has long been promoted as America's Pastime - more about tradition than any other sport. Well, I'm old enough now to recognize my own sense of tradition. And that's why, as I'm writing this, I'm wishing that it could be Tim Wakefield on the mound when I go to my first Opening Day.
Will Herberich is a freshman. He can be reached at William.Herberich@tufts.edu.
