http://www.bostonherald.com/sports/...snt_sailed/srvc=sports&position=recent_bullet
Tim Wakefield’s ship still hasn’t sailed
By Ron Borges | Wednesday, March 16, 2011 |
http://www.bostonherald.com |
Boston Red Sox
Photo by AP
FORT MYERS — The oldest pitcher in baseball sits in the corner, his back against the wall, watching his 26-year-old teammate Clay Buchholz fly a remote-controlled contraption that looks like a miniature version of the Starship Enterprise around the clubhouse, and remembers a time when the only things flying around a clubhouse were towels or words.
As the machine hovers over one teammate and then another, the small camera on the bottom relays live video to Buchholz’ iPad, which he is using to control it . . . except for the times it crashes to the ground, lands on the duct work — sending dust perhaps older than
Tim Wakefield [stats] rising — or suddenly drops to nearly decapitate a teammate.
“I can remember when they didn’t have cell phones,” the 44-year-old Wakefield notes, a wry smile on his face at the thought of a time someone like Buchholz can’t recall. “A lot of things have changed since I got to the big leagues, but not baseball.”
The trappings have changed and the laptop world has invaded the strategy, but The Game? The Game remains as it was the day a scout from the Pittsburgh Pirates first told Wakefield three decades ago that he would never make it to The Show if he continued to try and do it with his bat and glove. Rather than knuckle under, Wakefield developed a knuckleball.
Some 23 years later, Wakefield plays on. When he takes the ball Friday he will feel as he always has at such a moment — like a nervous kid with something to prove.
“I feel like I’ve been in survivor mode for 20 years,” Wakefield said. “That’s a good thing. It’s kept me competitive. I still love to put the uniform on. Travel-wise it gets old, but never the game. Never the preparation.
“I still get butterflies the day I pitch. The night before, I’m nervous. I’m excited. Sometimes I have a hard time sleeping. Those things more or less solidify for me why I’m still playing. . . . When I don’t feel that way, it’s time to walk away.”
Last spring it seemed that time might have come. After having made the All-Star team for the first time in 2009, Wakefield struggled through an injury-plagued second half of that season, which ended in surgery for a herniated disc. If you’re 33 and that happens, you have options. If you’re 43 and that happens, people figure your only option is packing boxes.
Wakefield was justifiably peeved to be sitting in that same corner of the clubhouse at City of Palms Park being asked if he thought he would survive, but he did, and now he’s here again well aware of what his role is — and glad to have one.
“Last year was the first time my job was undetermined,” Wakefield said. “I’d made the All-Star team in ‘09, which was a hugely positive thing, so it was hard considering the year I’d had. I pitched the second half of the season hurt. I knew I needed surgery, but they needed me on the field, so I tried.
“That just made me a bigger question mark for the organization, even though the doctors said there shouldn’t be any limitations on me. I get to spring training and prove I’m healthy, but that unknown was still there. What was my job? What do I do?”
What he did was whatever they asked.
Last season Wakefield became the oldest pitcher ever to appear in a game for the Red Sox [team stats], making 19 starts and 13 relief appearances. He was not The Unexpected All-Star, as he’d been the year before, but for many he was The Unexpected Red Sox, a title he no longer holds.
“This spring is easier,” Wakefield said. “I know my role is whatever they need.”
As Wakefield talked, the Starship Buchholz continued to fly, hurtling across a wide expanse only recently created when the lockers of players sent to the minor leagues were removed.
As it floated on air, in a sense so did Tim Wakefield. He was just like young Buchholz, a ballplayer, which is all he ever wanted to be.
“There’s a huge generation gap there, but for the most part I get along great with these kids,” Wakefield said. “I play golf with Buchholz, (Jon) Lester, (John) Lackey, (Josh) Beckett. We respect each other as equals. I’m like an older brother to them.”
He’s something more as well. He’s what he still wants to be. He’s a big league pitcher, and how many people can say that?