The boys of spring (continued)

THE SOX came to Fort Myers in 1993, relinquishing their former spring training home in the small central Florida town of Winter Haven. In the old days, "With few shops or restaurants, the focus in the town was singular," according to an article in a Red Sox program. Fort Myers, by contrast, is a city of more than 425,000 residents, a little south of the rapidly growing part of southwest Florida that fueled George W. Bush’s victory in the state in the 2004 election, and a variety of attractions, including the relatively close coastal community of Fort Myers Beach, draw snowbirds and other visitors.

The steroids scandal that has rocked baseball in recent months, casting a shadow over the accomplishments of Barry Bonds and some other athletes, seems absent, at least on the surface, in the Red Sox camp. Indeed, despite the intense media interest that surrounds the team, there’s something timeless about these players stretching out and tuning up under the Florida sun.

Spring training dates to the dawn of the 20th century in places like New Orleans and Hot Springs, Arkansas, although the pre-season warm-ups became centered in the Sunshine State in the 1920s. According to a recent story in the New York Times, 18 teams still practice in 13 counties, although rising real estate value is leading some communities — not including Fort Myers — to favor replacing ballparks with development. Arizona, home to the "Cactus League" favored by West Coast and Midwest teams has responded by trying to attract more "Grapefruit League" squads.

At City of Palms Park, familiar rituals unfold in the hours before a game. Duos and trios of players, like Ramirez, Ortiz, and Renteria, run wind sprints from the sidelines into the outfield, and then trot backwards back to the line. As position players take their turns at batting practice, a trio of strategically arrayed coaches steadily hit dozens of ground balls to infielders shielded from action elsewhere on the field by a series of protective screens. The repetition of this activity from late February through the end of March steels ballplayers for the marathon of the 162-game season, stretching from cold April nights at Fenway through the first days of autumn. The typical major leaguer is a millionaire, playing a child’s pastime that originated in a bygone agricultural age, but for my money, there’s not a better game.

A day after losing to the Reds, the Sox try their luck against the Orioles, who have given Boston a tough time in recent years. This proves no different, as the Birds rock Wells for six earned runs, winning 6-1, on 11 hits in six innings. As the sunny morning gives way to torrential rain, the game is called after seven, and fans form makeshift ponchos from a roll of plastic trash bags found in the men’s room.

Great news arrives, though, when I buy a Boston Globe from a vending machine outside the ballpark (the Herald is available, too, although not the ProJo), and learn that the Henry-Lucchino-Werner ownership has cemented plans for the Sox to remain at Fenway for the foreseeable, if not definite, future. (Taking a vacation from the Internet, I’d been without such customary staples as www.boston.com, www.soxaholix.com, www.bostondirtdogs.com; www.sonsofsamhorn.com, www.survivinggrady.com, and Phoenix colleague Mike Miliard’s www.bostonphoenix.com/sox_blog/.) In an increasingly generic age, Fenway remains a shrine, a thing of beauty, an inspiration, the real deal, and it’s hard not to respect the ownership for bringing home a world championship and recognizing the importance of the team’s history.

Two days later, after the Sox notch a tie during an away game with the Orioles, I make use of a press credential to get on the field as the players ply their drills a few hours before a March 25 game against the Twins. Although various players — Varitek, Youkilis, Ortiz, and others — pass within a few feet of me, they are doing their work, heading in and out of the batting cage, or to fielding drills, and it’s not the time to bother them. Fortunately, Johnny Pesky, the 85-year-old face of the Sox, is just wrapping a television interview and more than happy to talk, motioning me toward the dugout to get out from under an already roasting mid-morning sun.

Having arrived in mid-March since his wife, Ruth, is in less than stellar health back at their home north of Boston, Pesky, gripping a fungo bat and periodically spitting tobacco juice, nonetheless seemed the picture of enthusiasm about the game. Asked about the greatest challenge facing the 2005 Sox, he says, "The challenge, as always, is winning. You’re judged by what you win."

Pesky, whose affiliation with the Boston team dates to 1942, praised the enthusiasm of the team’s fans, the camaraderie of the players, and the oversight of manager Terry Francona, general manager Theo Epstein, and the ownership, and the inspiration of architectural planner Janet Marie Smith, who has charted improvements at the ballpark. "You can’t move Fenway," he said. "It’s prettier now than it’s ever been. As a matter of fact, a year ago, [vice president of public affairs] Dr. [Charles] Steinberg wanted me to go around and see some of the new things, and some of the places I’d never seen before, and I’ve been around the ballpark for 50 years, for God sakes."

BEFORE THE March 25 game against the Twins, Millar, Ramirez, and Ortiz emerge from the Sox dugout on the third base line to sign autographs for some of the fans clustered nearby. Papi, in typically cheerful spirits, has the whole thing down. He points to someone in the crowd, indicating who he wants to toss him a baseball or some other object. He signs the item and tosses it back. This simple ritual helps to seal the bond between player and fan.

(Although I try to maintain journalistic dispassion while on assignment, this is not always possible where the Red Sox are concerned. Two days earlier, while waiting for the Vazquez interview, I remained impassive as Ortiz, Wakefield, Jerry Remy, Mark Bellhorn, and other Sox luminaries walk toward their parked cars from the players’ exit, stopping to sign autographs for a small group of gathered fans. But with the Vazquez interview complete, the temptation was too much when Millar began signing up the line for a few young kids. About the only suitable object close at hand was my first baseman’s glove — brought to the game for the possible foul ball — so I pulled it out of a knapsack, and the casually intense Millar obligingly inked it.)

With a stellar match-up — Minnesota’s Brad Radke against Curt Schilling, in his first spring training start — the game had a high buzz factor. Schilling, after looking sharp out of the box, yielded back-to-back homers, however, and the Sox were vanquished, 5-1. On the plus side, the big right-hander, who deserves much credit for winning 20 games and pitching through pain to help fuel the Sox comeback against the Yankees last year, seemed healthy after off-season ankle surgery.

The Sox have some question marks about their pitching. If Schilling, Boomer Wells, Matt Clement, and Bronson Arroyo or Wade Miller come up big, Boston will be in good shape. Conversely, if the staff stumbles, it could make for a long season. Augmented by Randy Johnson, Carl Pavano, and Jaret Wright, the Yankees face similar questions.

When you get right down to it, the unpredictability of what can happen in baseball — during a nine-inning game and the entire 162-game season — is a big part of its beauty. One of the big themes for this year, of course, is whether the Yankees will reassert their traditional hegemony, or whether the Sox’ 2004 championship will mark the start of a new reign. Something entirely different could happen, too.

Asked about this season, Luis Tiant says, with the kind of reasoning that Casey Stengel would appreciate, "The greatest question mark? I think we have to win. You know, we got a good team, maybe the best team in baseball or one of the best. The question is going to be, how are the new acquisitions going to do?"

Johnny Pesky, 85 years young and his heart very much still with the game, points to the kind of resolve and determination displayed by the Sox last year in looking to the future. When things don’t go as planned, he says, "Then you find out what you’re really made of. I don’t care how good or bad your team is. If you’re team is good, you’re going to have bumps in the road, and you have to accept them, but these guys, they didn’t let it bother them."

Let the games begin.

Ian Donnis can be reached at idonnis[a]phx.com.