hno:
BOSTON -- Adored by generations of Red Sox fans, Johnny Pesky was so much a part of Boston baseball that the right-field foul pole at Fenway Park was named for him.
Pesky, who played, managed and served as a broadcaster for the Red Sox in a baseball career that lasted more than 60 years, died Monday. He was 92.
"The national pastime has lost one of its greatest ambassadors," baseball commissioner Bud Selig said. "Johnny Pesky, who led a great American life, was an embodiment of loyalty and goodwill for the Boston Red Sox and all of Major League Baseball."
More from ESPNBoston.com
An undeniable member of Boston Red Sox royalty, Johnny Pesky forever remained a man of the people, ESPNBoston's Gordon Edes writes. Story
• McDonald: Connected generations
Pesky died just over a week after his final visit to Fenway, on Aug. 5 when Boston beat the Minnesota Twins 6-4.
Yet for many in the legion of Red Sox fans, their last image of Pesky will be from the 100th anniversary of Fenway Park on April 20, when the man known for his warmth, kindness and outstanding baseball career was moved to tears at a pregame ceremony. By then he was in a wheelchair positioned at second base, surrounded by dozens of admiring former players and a cheering crowd.
It was at another ceremony less than six years earlier that Pesky's name was officially inscribed in the rich history of the Red Sox and their home, a fitting tribute to a career .307 hitter and longtime teammate and friend of Ted Williams.
On his 87th birthday, Sept. 27, 2006, a plaque was unveiled at the base of the foul pole just 302 feet from home plate, designating it "Pesky's Pole."
The term was coined by former Red Sox pitcher Mel Parnell, who during a broadcast in the 1950s recalled Pesky winning a game for him with a home run around the pole. From there, a legend seemed to grow that Pesky frequently curled shots that way -- actually, only six of his 17 career home runs came at Fenway.
SportsNation: Remembering Johnny Pesky
Red Sox ambassador Johnny Pesky, a former Boston player, manager and broadcaster, was a living link between the era of Ted Williams and the present day. Many fans who met Pesky over the years shared their memories when he passed away Monday at the age of 92.
• Story
In fact, team records show that Pesky never hit a home run at Fenway in which Parnell was the winning pitcher.
Even though Pesky was a fan favorite, he still had his own place of notoriety in Boston's drought of 86 years without a championship. He was long blamed for holding the ball on a key relay in Game 7 of the 1946 World Series, though it's a place that many now think is undeserved.
"Johnny Pesky will forever be linked to the Boston Red Sox," Red Sox president Larry Lucchino said. "He has been as much a part of Fenway Park as his retired Number 6 that rests on the right-field facade, or the foul pole below it that bears his name."
Pesky died at the Kaplan Family Hospice House in Danvers, according to Solimine, Landergan and Richardson funeral home in Lynn. The funeral home did not announce a cause of death.
"I've had an interesting life," Pesky told The Associated Press in 2005. "I have no complaints."
In New York, a moment of silence was held at Yankee Stadium before Monday night's game against the Texas Rangers. The crowd gave a nice round of applause.
Longtime Red Sox fans recall the days when Pesky was a talented shortstop and manager for the team. Younger ones saw him as an avuncular presence at the Red Sox spring training camp in Fort Myers, Fla.
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaJohnny Pesky, in one of his final appearances at Fenway Park, tipped his cap to the fans at the home opener in April. Pesky died Monday at 92.
It was there that Pesky would encourage young players and hit grounders to infielders with his ever-present fungo bat. He stopped doing that as he aged but still spent time sitting in a folding chair, his bat by his side, signing autographs and chatting with fans of all ages.
"I've had a good life with the ballclub," Pesky told The AP in 2004. "I just try to help out. I understand the game, I've been around the ballpark my whole life."
Pesky was a special assignment instructor in 2004 when the Red Sox won their first championship in 86 years. Tears of joy glistened in his eyes when the World Series was over.
"One of my career memories was hugging and kissing Johnny pesky after we won it all in 04, God Rest and God Bless his gentle soul, I miss you," Curt Schilling, who starred on that team, tweeted.
Current Red Sox players also took to Twitter.
David Ortiz: "A very dark day today for red sox nation."
Jon Lester: "Just heard we lost one of the good ones today. A great player and an even better man, rest in peace Johnny, thank you for the memories."
Pesky played 10 years in the majors, the first seven-plus with Boston.
"All of Red Sox Nation mourns the loss of 'Mr. Red Sox,' Johnny Pesky," Boston mayor Thomas Menino said. "He loved the game and he loved the fans -- and we loved him. His dedication to the sport and his passion to improve the game through the mentorship of young players will be sorely missed. Our hearts go out to the Red Sox organization and all of Johnny's family and many friends."
Born John Michael Paveskovich in Portland, Ore., Pesky first signed with the Red Sox organization in 1939 at the urging of his mother. A Red Sox scout had wooed her with flowers and his father with fine bourbon. His parents, immigrants from what is now Croatia, didn't understand baseball, but they did understand that the Red Sox were the best fit for their son even though other teams offered more money.
Fenway's Century Club
Our look back at 100 years of Fenway includes a ranking of the 100 Greatest Red Sox Players.
Top 50
| 51-100 | Your Rankings 100 Greatest Moments at Fenway
He played two years in the Red Sox minor league system before making his major league debut in 1942.
That season he set the team record for hits by a rookie with 205, a mark that stood until 1997 when fellow Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra, with whom he became very close, had 209. He also hit .331 his rookie year, second in the American League only to Williams, who hit .356.
Pesky spent the next three years in the Navy during World War II, although he did not see combat. He was back with the Red Sox through 1952, playing with the likes of Williams, who died in 2002, Bobby Doerr and Dom DiMaggio, before being traded to the Detroit Tigers. (In 2003, author David Halberstam told the story of Pesky, Williams, Doerr and DiMaggio in his book "The Teammates: A Portrait of a Friendship.")
Pesky was often said to have held the ball for a split second as Enos Slaughter made his famous "Mad Dash" from first base to score the winning run for the St. Louis Cardinals against the Red Sox in the deciding game of the 1946 World Series.
With the score tied at 3, Slaughter opened the bottom of the eighth inning with a single. With two outs, Harry Walker hit the ball to center field. Pesky, playing shortstop, took the cutoff throw from outfielder Leon Culberson, and according to some newspaper accounts, hesitated before throwing home. Slaughter, who ran through the stop sign at third base, was safe at the plate, and the best-of-seven series went to the Cardinals.
Pesky always denied any indecision, and analysis of the film appeared to back him up, but the myth persisted.
"In my heart, I know I didn't hold the ball," Pesky once said.
Pesky spent two years with the Tigers and Senators before starting a coaching career that included a two-year stint as Red Sox manager in 1963 and 1964. He came back to the Red Sox in 1969 and stayed there, even filling in as interim manager in 1980 after the club fired Don Zimmer.
Pesky is survived by a son, David. His wife, Ruth, whom he married in 1944, died in 2005.
Pesky, who played, managed and served as a broadcaster for the Red Sox in a baseball career that lasted more than 60 years, died Monday. He was 92.
"The national pastime has lost one of its greatest ambassadors," baseball commissioner Bud Selig said. "Johnny Pesky, who led a great American life, was an embodiment of loyalty and goodwill for the Boston Red Sox and all of Major League Baseball."
More from ESPNBoston.com
• McDonald: Connected generations
Pesky died just over a week after his final visit to Fenway, on Aug. 5 when Boston beat the Minnesota Twins 6-4.
Yet for many in the legion of Red Sox fans, their last image of Pesky will be from the 100th anniversary of Fenway Park on April 20, when the man known for his warmth, kindness and outstanding baseball career was moved to tears at a pregame ceremony. By then he was in a wheelchair positioned at second base, surrounded by dozens of admiring former players and a cheering crowd.
It was at another ceremony less than six years earlier that Pesky's name was officially inscribed in the rich history of the Red Sox and their home, a fitting tribute to a career .307 hitter and longtime teammate and friend of Ted Williams.
On his 87th birthday, Sept. 27, 2006, a plaque was unveiled at the base of the foul pole just 302 feet from home plate, designating it "Pesky's Pole."
The term was coined by former Red Sox pitcher Mel Parnell, who during a broadcast in the 1950s recalled Pesky winning a game for him with a home run around the pole. From there, a legend seemed to grow that Pesky frequently curled shots that way -- actually, only six of his 17 career home runs came at Fenway.
SportsNation: Remembering Johnny Pesky
• Story
In fact, team records show that Pesky never hit a home run at Fenway in which Parnell was the winning pitcher.
Even though Pesky was a fan favorite, he still had his own place of notoriety in Boston's drought of 86 years without a championship. He was long blamed for holding the ball on a key relay in Game 7 of the 1946 World Series, though it's a place that many now think is undeserved.
"Johnny Pesky will forever be linked to the Boston Red Sox," Red Sox president Larry Lucchino said. "He has been as much a part of Fenway Park as his retired Number 6 that rests on the right-field facade, or the foul pole below it that bears his name."
Pesky died at the Kaplan Family Hospice House in Danvers, according to Solimine, Landergan and Richardson funeral home in Lynn. The funeral home did not announce a cause of death.
"I've had an interesting life," Pesky told The Associated Press in 2005. "I have no complaints."
In New York, a moment of silence was held at Yankee Stadium before Monday night's game against the Texas Rangers. The crowd gave a nice round of applause.
Longtime Red Sox fans recall the days when Pesky was a talented shortstop and manager for the team. Younger ones saw him as an avuncular presence at the Red Sox spring training camp in Fort Myers, Fla.
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaJohnny Pesky, in one of his final appearances at Fenway Park, tipped his cap to the fans at the home opener in April. Pesky died Monday at 92.It was there that Pesky would encourage young players and hit grounders to infielders with his ever-present fungo bat. He stopped doing that as he aged but still spent time sitting in a folding chair, his bat by his side, signing autographs and chatting with fans of all ages.
"I've had a good life with the ballclub," Pesky told The AP in 2004. "I just try to help out. I understand the game, I've been around the ballpark my whole life."
Pesky was a special assignment instructor in 2004 when the Red Sox won their first championship in 86 years. Tears of joy glistened in his eyes when the World Series was over.
"One of my career memories was hugging and kissing Johnny pesky after we won it all in 04, God Rest and God Bless his gentle soul, I miss you," Curt Schilling, who starred on that team, tweeted.
Current Red Sox players also took to Twitter.
David Ortiz: "A very dark day today for red sox nation."
Jon Lester: "Just heard we lost one of the good ones today. A great player and an even better man, rest in peace Johnny, thank you for the memories."
Pesky played 10 years in the majors, the first seven-plus with Boston.
"All of Red Sox Nation mourns the loss of 'Mr. Red Sox,' Johnny Pesky," Boston mayor Thomas Menino said. "He loved the game and he loved the fans -- and we loved him. His dedication to the sport and his passion to improve the game through the mentorship of young players will be sorely missed. Our hearts go out to the Red Sox organization and all of Johnny's family and many friends."
Born John Michael Paveskovich in Portland, Ore., Pesky first signed with the Red Sox organization in 1939 at the urging of his mother. A Red Sox scout had wooed her with flowers and his father with fine bourbon. His parents, immigrants from what is now Croatia, didn't understand baseball, but they did understand that the Red Sox were the best fit for their son even though other teams offered more money.
Fenway's Century Club
Our look back at 100 years of Fenway includes a ranking of the 100 Greatest Red Sox Players. Top 50
| 51-100 | Your Rankings 100 Greatest Moments at Fenway He played two years in the Red Sox minor league system before making his major league debut in 1942.
That season he set the team record for hits by a rookie with 205, a mark that stood until 1997 when fellow Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra, with whom he became very close, had 209. He also hit .331 his rookie year, second in the American League only to Williams, who hit .356.
Pesky spent the next three years in the Navy during World War II, although he did not see combat. He was back with the Red Sox through 1952, playing with the likes of Williams, who died in 2002, Bobby Doerr and Dom DiMaggio, before being traded to the Detroit Tigers. (In 2003, author David Halberstam told the story of Pesky, Williams, Doerr and DiMaggio in his book "The Teammates: A Portrait of a Friendship.")
Pesky was often said to have held the ball for a split second as Enos Slaughter made his famous "Mad Dash" from first base to score the winning run for the St. Louis Cardinals against the Red Sox in the deciding game of the 1946 World Series.
With the score tied at 3, Slaughter opened the bottom of the eighth inning with a single. With two outs, Harry Walker hit the ball to center field. Pesky, playing shortstop, took the cutoff throw from outfielder Leon Culberson, and according to some newspaper accounts, hesitated before throwing home. Slaughter, who ran through the stop sign at third base, was safe at the plate, and the best-of-seven series went to the Cardinals.
Pesky always denied any indecision, and analysis of the film appeared to back him up, but the myth persisted.
"In my heart, I know I didn't hold the ball," Pesky once said.
Pesky spent two years with the Tigers and Senators before starting a coaching career that included a two-year stint as Red Sox manager in 1963 and 1964. He came back to the Red Sox in 1969 and stayed there, even filling in as interim manager in 1980 after the club fired Don Zimmer.
Pesky is survived by a son, David. His wife, Ruth, whom he married in 1944, died in 2005.
BOSTON -- He was born -- Sept. 27, 1919 -- on the day Babe Ruth played his last game in a Boston Red Sox uniform. He was teammates with Ted Williams, managed Yaz and Tony C., sparred with Dick Stuart, shared a microphone with Ned Martin, coached Jim Rice and Fred Lynn, hit fungoes to Nomar, wept tears of joy with Tim Wakefield and Curt Schilling, and with Hall of Famer Bobby Doerr this past April was an honored guest at the 100th anniversary of Fenway, escorted to the center of the diamond by Jason Varitek and David Ortiz.
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaIf you were a fan of the Red Sox, you had a fan in Johnny Pesky, who always had time for a story, a smile or a wave.
More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky embodied the Red Sox. More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky loved the Red Sox. More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky shared that love with anyone who ever asked for a picture, an autograph, a smile, a story. And often, you didn't even have to ask.
On Monday, just more than a month before his 93rd birthday, Johnny Pesky died in the Danvers, Mass., hospice in which he'd spent the final months of his life, slipping in and out of the fog of memory.
The Red Sox lost the greatest ambassador they ever had, and a damn good ballplayer too, a shortstop who had 200 hits in each of his first three seasons, a lifetime batting average of .307 and, like Williams, might have put up even gaudier numbers if he hadn't joined the Navy during World War II.
The rest of us lost one of our own, a guy who decided long ago he wanted to remain in the neighborhood, who spent the better part of six decades living in the same middle-class Swampscott house, married for 42 years to the same woman, his Ruthie, whose death preceded his in 2005, and who never embraced the notion that playing for the Red Sox entitled him to the prerogatives of royalty.
For Pesky, VIP treatment meant a table at the Salem Diner, where every morning, Monday to Friday (breakfast on the weekend was reserved for Ruthie), he would gather with a motley assortment of friends -- Earl the lawyer from Marblehead and Joe the shipbuilder from Swampscott and Buzz the peddler from Beverly and Bob the court clerk from Salem. There they would swap stories, and tease Georgia the waitress, and take turns paying the bill. Earl Weissman, the lawyer, of course, kept track of whose turn it was.
Weissman remembered Pesky when he still lived on Western Avenue in Lynn and used to come into the hardware store that Weissman's father ran. How did Weissman become part of this breakfast club? "Johnny said, 'Sit your butt down and talk to us. You don't need a blood test.'"
Weissman told me some years ago, "That was my initiation. It was like, 'You're in.'"
Pesky loved the uniform. Up until the very last years, he had his own locker in the Red Sox clubhouse in Fenway Park, and even after he stopped hitting ground balls in spring training could still be found encamped in a folding chair near the box-seat railings to engage a receiving line of fans.
Fenway's Century Club
Our look back at 100 years of Fenway includes a ranking of the 100 Greatest Red Sox Players.
Top 50
| 51-100 | Your Rankings 100 Greatest Moments at Fenway
But no one ever made that uniform more accessible. It didn't matter if you were Mo Vaughn or a fantasy camper living out a middle-aged dream of playing for the Sox, Pesky had time for you. If you were lucky, he'd tease you, because that was part of the game Pesky always treasured, the give-and-take of ballyard humor in which everyone was considered fair game, especially when you were the son of a Croat immigrant with a long last name (Paveskovich) and a prominent nose. (Williams delighted in calling him "Needle" or "Needle Nose.")
Johnny liked to tell of how Williams would threaten to thrash him if he ever swung at a 3-and-1 pitch, even though that was a hitter's count, because Williams wanted to make sure Pesky was on base ahead of him, and a walk might be a more likely outcome if Pesky didn't get too eager.
Oh, there were a couple of things that were off-limits, even for Johnny. You didn't joke about the famous play in the 1946 World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals in which Enos Slaughter scored from first while Pesky was said to have hesitated before throwing home. He considered that a bum rap.
You didn't mention Dan Duquette, the general manager who in 1997 banished Pesky from the dugout (he was allowed back by the new ownership group). And you stayed clear of bringing up Dick Stuart, who tormented Pesky when he was manager.
Once, Stuart ignored a bunt sign Pesky gave him. The late Dick Radatz used to tell the story of what happened when Pesky confronted him. "Stuart said, 'Let me tell you something, Needle. I get paid to do one thing on this ballclub, and I do it very well, and that's hit the ball out of the ballpark. Don't you ever give me the bunt sign again as long as you live.'"
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaEveryone wanted to greet Johnny Pesky at April's Fenway centennial, particularly Nomar Garciaparra.
But Pesky loved the promise of the kids coming up through the system -- he spent parts of his summers with the Red Sox minor league teams in Lowell and Pawtucket -- and he'd collar you and tell you about that "tough little S.O.B. Pedroia" and "this kid Ellsbury, who runs like the wind and comes from my home state, Oregon." And he reserved a special place in his heart for Nomar Garciaparra, who poignantly leaned over his wheelchair and embraced him at the Fenway centennial.
It meant something to Johnny that they made it official a few years ago and named the right-field foul pole the Pesky Pole, that they named a minor league field for him in Fort Myers, that they retired his number 6, the only Red Sox player who isn't in the Hall of Fame to have his number retired.
But no moment in his career comes close to the champagne shower he received, weeping, in St. Louis in 2004, when the Sox won their first World Series in 86 years.
He was deeply moved at how those so-called "Idiots" treated him with such affection. "They treat me like a king," Pesky said. "Lowe, Schilling, Myers, Manny, Ortiz, they all give me hugs, like you only used to get from your family.''
For years, Pesky's friends staged a dinner in his honor every January in a restaurant in Lynn. Friends and cronies, old teammates such as Eddie Pellagrini and the occasional scribe or two would gather to tell stories and swap lies and roar with laughter.
In some ways, it was an odd tradition -- c'mon, how many times do you have to honor a guy? -- but with Johnny, it was always perfect. Because he had a way of turning it inside out and making everybody else in the room feel special, because he'd tell you how lucky he was to have played for the Sox, lived here and all these years later to still be a part of it, and who ever had a better group of pals than he did?
No, Johnny, we were the lucky ones.
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaIf you were a fan of the Red Sox, you had a fan in Johnny Pesky, who always had time for a story, a smile or a wave.More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky embodied the Red Sox. More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky loved the Red Sox. More than anybody else, Johnny Pesky shared that love with anyone who ever asked for a picture, an autograph, a smile, a story. And often, you didn't even have to ask.
On Monday, just more than a month before his 93rd birthday, Johnny Pesky died in the Danvers, Mass., hospice in which he'd spent the final months of his life, slipping in and out of the fog of memory.
The Red Sox lost the greatest ambassador they ever had, and a damn good ballplayer too, a shortstop who had 200 hits in each of his first three seasons, a lifetime batting average of .307 and, like Williams, might have put up even gaudier numbers if he hadn't joined the Navy during World War II.
The rest of us lost one of our own, a guy who decided long ago he wanted to remain in the neighborhood, who spent the better part of six decades living in the same middle-class Swampscott house, married for 42 years to the same woman, his Ruthie, whose death preceded his in 2005, and who never embraced the notion that playing for the Red Sox entitled him to the prerogatives of royalty.
For Pesky, VIP treatment meant a table at the Salem Diner, where every morning, Monday to Friday (breakfast on the weekend was reserved for Ruthie), he would gather with a motley assortment of friends -- Earl the lawyer from Marblehead and Joe the shipbuilder from Swampscott and Buzz the peddler from Beverly and Bob the court clerk from Salem. There they would swap stories, and tease Georgia the waitress, and take turns paying the bill. Earl Weissman, the lawyer, of course, kept track of whose turn it was.
Weissman remembered Pesky when he still lived on Western Avenue in Lynn and used to come into the hardware store that Weissman's father ran. How did Weissman become part of this breakfast club? "Johnny said, 'Sit your butt down and talk to us. You don't need a blood test.'"
Weissman told me some years ago, "That was my initiation. It was like, 'You're in.'"
Pesky loved the uniform. Up until the very last years, he had his own locker in the Red Sox clubhouse in Fenway Park, and even after he stopped hitting ground balls in spring training could still be found encamped in a folding chair near the box-seat railings to engage a receiving line of fans.
Fenway's Century Club
Our look back at 100 years of Fenway includes a ranking of the 100 Greatest Red Sox Players. Top 50
| 51-100 | Your Rankings 100 Greatest Moments at Fenway But no one ever made that uniform more accessible. It didn't matter if you were Mo Vaughn or a fantasy camper living out a middle-aged dream of playing for the Sox, Pesky had time for you. If you were lucky, he'd tease you, because that was part of the game Pesky always treasured, the give-and-take of ballyard humor in which everyone was considered fair game, especially when you were the son of a Croat immigrant with a long last name (Paveskovich) and a prominent nose. (Williams delighted in calling him "Needle" or "Needle Nose.")
Johnny liked to tell of how Williams would threaten to thrash him if he ever swung at a 3-and-1 pitch, even though that was a hitter's count, because Williams wanted to make sure Pesky was on base ahead of him, and a walk might be a more likely outcome if Pesky didn't get too eager.
Oh, there were a couple of things that were off-limits, even for Johnny. You didn't joke about the famous play in the 1946 World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals in which Enos Slaughter scored from first while Pesky was said to have hesitated before throwing home. He considered that a bum rap.
You didn't mention Dan Duquette, the general manager who in 1997 banished Pesky from the dugout (he was allowed back by the new ownership group). And you stayed clear of bringing up Dick Stuart, who tormented Pesky when he was manager.
Once, Stuart ignored a bunt sign Pesky gave him. The late Dick Radatz used to tell the story of what happened when Pesky confronted him. "Stuart said, 'Let me tell you something, Needle. I get paid to do one thing on this ballclub, and I do it very well, and that's hit the ball out of the ballpark. Don't you ever give me the bunt sign again as long as you live.'"
[+] Enlarge
AP Photo/Elise AmendolaEveryone wanted to greet Johnny Pesky at April's Fenway centennial, particularly Nomar Garciaparra.But Pesky loved the promise of the kids coming up through the system -- he spent parts of his summers with the Red Sox minor league teams in Lowell and Pawtucket -- and he'd collar you and tell you about that "tough little S.O.B. Pedroia" and "this kid Ellsbury, who runs like the wind and comes from my home state, Oregon." And he reserved a special place in his heart for Nomar Garciaparra, who poignantly leaned over his wheelchair and embraced him at the Fenway centennial.
It meant something to Johnny that they made it official a few years ago and named the right-field foul pole the Pesky Pole, that they named a minor league field for him in Fort Myers, that they retired his number 6, the only Red Sox player who isn't in the Hall of Fame to have his number retired.
But no moment in his career comes close to the champagne shower he received, weeping, in St. Louis in 2004, when the Sox won their first World Series in 86 years.
He was deeply moved at how those so-called "Idiots" treated him with such affection. "They treat me like a king," Pesky said. "Lowe, Schilling, Myers, Manny, Ortiz, they all give me hugs, like you only used to get from your family.''
For years, Pesky's friends staged a dinner in his honor every January in a restaurant in Lynn. Friends and cronies, old teammates such as Eddie Pellagrini and the occasional scribe or two would gather to tell stories and swap lies and roar with laughter.
In some ways, it was an odd tradition -- c'mon, how many times do you have to honor a guy? -- but with Johnny, it was always perfect. Because he had a way of turning it inside out and making everybody else in the room feel special, because he'd tell you how lucky he was to have played for the Sox, lived here and all these years later to still be a part of it, and who ever had a better group of pals than he did?
No, Johnny, we were the lucky ones.
Part of the last team to hit a combined .300 for the entire season
1B- Dropo
2B- Doerr
SS- Stephens
3B- Pesky
OF- Zarilla
OF- D. DiMaggio
OF- Wiliams
C- Tebbets
Dropo & Stephens tied for the RBI lead both with 144
Williams broke his collarbone & only played in 89 games but still drove in 97, more than an RBI per game
B. Goodman was a sub playing OF, 3B, SS & 2B and accumulated enough AB's to lead the lead in hitting .354
Every regular hit over .294
Last team to score 1000 runs
Pesky hit .312 & scored 112 runs
1B- Dropo
2B- Doerr
SS- Stephens
3B- Pesky
OF- Zarilla
OF- D. DiMaggio
OF- Wiliams
C- Tebbets
Dropo & Stephens tied for the RBI lead both with 144
Williams broke his collarbone & only played in 89 games but still drove in 97, more than an RBI per game
B. Goodman was a sub playing OF, 3B, SS & 2B and accumulated enough AB's to lead the lead in hitting .354
Every regular hit over .294
Last team to score 1000 runs
Pesky hit .312 & scored 112 runs
