Nomar and the Beast of Burden

Sometimes my iTunes shuffled playlist can transport me back to a different time. Today, it played the song “Beast of Burden” by the Rolling Stones and reminded me of the 2004 Red Sox, pre- World Series championship. I remember reading a column in a Boston newspaper when the playoffs came around that year; the author had given each team a theme song and the Red Sox were tagged with the aforementioned Stones hit.

With lyrics like these, who can disagree?

I'll tell ya
You can put me out
On the street
Put me out
With no shoes on my feet
But, put me out, put me out
Put me out of misery

Next, iTunes fast-forwarded a month or so and played Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days.” (Seriously, this thing must have a mind of its own).

Before this musical trip down memory lane, the 2004 Red Sox had already been on my mind. On Wednesday, Nomar Garciaparra signed a one day minor league contract with Boston so he could retire as a Red Sox player.

Older Sox fans remember Carlton Fisk and Carl Yastrzemski, and some even have the memories of Ted Williams. But for Red Sox fans around my age, Nomar was our man. He was our Teddy Ballgame. Our Fisk. Our Yaz.

Nomar was a product of the Red Sox system. He was dreamy (despite the Nose-mar thing, a joke probably made up by guys jealous of the shortstop’s female fan following). He looked great in his tight baseball pants. He had the most annoying at-bat ritual, but we loved him unconditionally.

Nomar gave us moments like the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway Park when he wheeled Williams out onto the field. He hit three home runs on his 29th birthday in a 22-4 rout of the Devil Rays. In 1999, he hit three homeruns—two of them grand slams— in a win over the Mariners. In fact, his first at-bat in a Boston uniform was a home run.

Sounds like the stuff of legends, myths too good to be true. In Boston, Nomar was a legend. But he was also pretty damn good.

In nine years and 966 games with the Red Sox, Nomar hit 178 HRs and posted a .323 batting average and .553 slugging percentage. He was Rookie of the Year in 1997 and a five-time All-Star.

Most fans have never gotten over the Nomar breakup. Probably because for the last six years our team has yet to find a decent shortstop to replace him (really, look at some of the attempts or should I say overpaid mistakes…Orlando Cabrera, Edgar Renteria, Julio Lugo, Alex Gonzalez). I think Nomar at age 36 would be better shortstop than some of the substitutes.

Or perhaps the problem is that no one is good enough for us. Like your first true love, after the relationship ends, another can ever really take his or her place. There will always be a hole between third and second base. One where Nomar used to stand and one no one else has been able to fill (statistically or nostalgically).

Maybe the Beast of Burden still roams the streets of Boston. He wasn’t satiated by the World Series win in 2004 (which felt a little sad to celebrate without Nomar). He continues to skulk around corners, hoping just maybe each spring someone might come around to ease the aching and fill that gap Nomar left in Boston lore.

Perhaps the Beast can now rest after this spring. Although it was just for one day—Nomar was and is once again part of Boston baseball.

As we never forgot Nomar, he never forgot us. He wanted to retire in his Boston Red Sox uniform, but little did he know, in our hearts Number 5 never belonged to anyone else.

Next on the playlist: Tom Petty’s “The Waiting.” (Okay, so maybe I searched and played the song manually…iTunes isn’t THAT good…)