The thrill of defeat

Sox fans think they want victory, but they thrive on elegant failure. Plus, a look at the Patriots, and the Bruins vs. the Celts

by Tom Scocca

For the local sports fan, melancholy and fretful by nature, there is nothing so stimulating as autumn. After a long, bright summer, with baseball running its sleepy midseason course, the air gets chilly, the shadows deepen, and the bony hand of fate begins to twitch. This is the time when good things come to an end, the season of Bob Gibson, Bucky Dent, and Mookie Wilson. This is when good old Calvinist suffering kicks in.

Of course, it's poor form to own up to such despair, just as it's poor form to point out that the vivid foliage will be so much gutter-clogging muck by the end of November. The Red Sox' last 78 years of stretch runs may have come to nothing, but that's no reason not to put on a brave face this time around.

In fact, the Sox are in a more promising position right now than they've been in for years. Overshadowed by the runaway Yankees, the Sox have quietly been having a successful season in their own right -- though stuck in second place, they're on the same pace as their last playoff team, the division champions of 1995. And unlike the slow, hard-slugging '95 team, which was swept by the Indians in the first round, this team is well balanced and fundamentally sound.

This wasn't what we expected last fall, when the Sox were in a payroll-trimming mood and the starting rotation and outfield were in a shambles. At the time, we predicted they'd finish fourth this year. But maligned general manager Dan Duquette turned around and opened the vaults to invest in National League Cy Young Award-winner Pedro Martinez. Add some well-chosen new pitchers and outfielders, and blossoming talent from Pawtucket, and a team that was half-baked last year has turned into one of the most pleasant surprises in the majors.

If it weren't for the Yankees, this edition of the Sox might have already made it into local sports lore. From their seven-run rally in the bottom of the ninth to win the home opener, through the 8-4 finish of their last big West Coast swing, the '98 team has risen to most occasions. Center fielder Darren Lewis is playing the sort of brilliant defense the Sox have perennially needed, while showing speed and patience as the leadoff man. Nomar Garciaparra -- a second-year player, lest we forget, and a shortstop -- has developed into a good enough slugger to bat cleanup. Pedro Martinez and Tom Gordon are arguably the best starter and the best closer in the league. Manager Jimy Williams has wrung tremendous heroics out of a collection of other guys: Mike Benjamin, Lou Merloni, Donnie Sadler, Damon Buford. Above all, there's Mo Vaughn, storming his way toward either an unpleasant exit from town or a new contract, leading the team in hits and home runs.

And under the wild-card system, the Sox don't need to catch up with New York to have an interesting September and October. They've been leading the race for the wild-card slot most of the way; now they've got to stay ahead of the West Division runner-up (Texas or Anaheim). Their divisional rival the Baltimore Orioles, who trailed the Sox by 15 ^1/2 games at the All-Star break, went on a white-hot winning spree that closed half the distance -- and promptly dropped out of sight by losing 10 games in a row. For their final act, the Sox will be playing six of their last 12 games against Baltimore, including a season-ending four-game set at Fenway September 24 through 27.

If the team manages to blow it, New Englanders will have witnessed their favorite sports spectacle of all, a tragic collapse they can tell their grandkids about. If they hang on -- well, Martinez and knuckleball ace Tim Wakefield probably have the best chance of any pitchers in the league to baffle the Yankees. And given that this team can hit and catch and run about as well as anybody, the fans might have to face their greatest terror: a legitimate shot at a championship.

While they're waiting for the Sox to have a late-season crisis, fans can kill time by agonizing over the Patriots' early-season crises. The beauty of football is that actual games happen so infrequently that the pessimistic mind has plenty of time in between to build up elaborate structures of despair. Heck, weeks before the Pats had even started scrimmaging, people were calling The Score to fret about things such as whether rookie running back Robert Edwards could hit the hole in a pro blocking scheme. By preseason, they were ready to hang Drew Bledsoe for throwing from his back foot, and to write off new cornerback Tebucky Jones as a terminal cripple because he'd stubbed his toe.

Not that there aren't some real concerns about the Patriots. The loss of brilliant (if gimpy) running back Curtis Martin to Bill Parcells's New York Jets has eliminated what little running game they had. Their decision to dump aging punt-return superstar Dave Meggett after he got in trouble with a Toronto hooker may come back to haunt them -- particularly if shadow owner Myra Kraft decides that all-world tight end Ben Coates, who got into a preseason domestic fracas with one of his multiple extramarital girlfriends, is guilty of the same kind of moral turpitude.

But as long as Coates is there to catch the ball on third-and-eight, the Patriots' passing game should be as effective as ever, and the defense might be downright dominant, most weeks. Against the best teams, they'll probably suffer the same defensive lapses as last year, and the unsettled running game won't help them control the clock. Lucky for them, they won't be playing too many of the best teams -- their divisional rivals will be the unshakably mediocre Dolphins, the rebuilding Bills and Colts, and the Jets, who are trying to choose between Glenn Foley and Vinny Testaverde as quarterback. Look for feverish melodrama, dizzying highs and crushing low points, and yet another 10-6 record.

Finally, this fall will offer one deeply intriguing contest: the Celtics versus the Bruins. A year ago, this was a mismatch. The Celts had been completely overhauled, they were loaded with young talent, and they were in the hands of $70 million superstar coach Rick Pitino. The Bruins had undeveloped number-one draft pick Joe Thornton, a few other new guys, and, if anyone cared, new but veteran coach Pat Burns.

But though the Celts improved from 15 wins to 36, they faltered down the stretch and missed the playoffs. The Bruins went from a league-worst 26 wins to 39, made the playoffs, and nearly upset Washington -- a year crowned by Burns's winning Coach of the Year, the overlooked Sergei Samsonov's winning Rookie of the Year, and management's announcing it was cutting season-ticket prices for the 1998 season.

Already ahead on PR points, the Bruins get to extend their lead when they face off with the St. Louis Blues on October 10. The Celtics, who face potentially nasty contract talks with hotshot forward Antoine Walker, aren't scheduled to tip off till November -- and that's only if the NBA can settle its ongoing labor dispute. In the meantime, the C's are out of the spotlight. And the B's would like to take over while they're gone.