CHAPTER 7
MIKE NAPOLI AT THE PLATE
8:58 P.M.
Game Tied, 1–1
It wasn’t a surprise that first baseman Mike Napoli was a big part of Cleveland’s success in 2016, on and off the field.
Earlier in the game, in the bottom of the first inning, right-hander Kyle Hendricks worked around an error and got Napoli on a broken-bat ground ball to shortstop Addison Russell for the third out. And in the bottom of the third, Napoli lined out to third baseman Kris Bryant to end the Indians’ scoring threat.
Napoli is a winner, and a great friend. He’s a fun guy to be around. Nap didn’t have a great Series, but he was one of the Indians’ best power hitters most of the year and finished the season with career highs in home runs (34) and RBIs (101).
I know what Nap brought to the table when we (along with Cubs teammates Jon Lester and John Lackey) won the World Series with the Boston Red Sox in 2013. Napoli was a key addition to the team. He quickly became a leader and helped transform the Red Sox clubhouse. He never gave away an at-bat. He could always find a way to work the count to 3–2 and have a quality at-bat.
I became a free agent in October 2012 after my fourth and final year in Atlanta.
The Red Sox showed immediate interest. I had played in the organization briefly in 2008 following my release from the Reds. Ben Cherington, executive vice president and general manager of the Red Sox, reached out to my agent, Ryan Gleichowski, and said I was the perfect fit in what he wanted to build in Boston in 2013. Cherington was aggressive in his approach, too. They put the full court press on me.
It had been a difficult few years for the Red Sox organization but I wasn’t worried about what happened in the past. John Farrell was hired as the team’s new manager—he replaced Bobby Valentine—on October 21, 2012, and I understood Cherington was really determined to rebuild the team for 2013. Plus I knew John from my time in Boston in 2008, when he was the pitching coach, and enjoyed him.
I always instructed Chow (my agent, Ryan Gleichowski) never to jump the gun in negotiations. We would both know when the situation was right. We never really wanted to put a specific time frame on negotiations. The situation had to be right and we had to feel good about it: the contract, the commitment, and even geographically, for my family. When it was right, we knew it.
And Boston felt right.
Still, since it was so early in the free agent market that off-season, I was anxious to see what kind of commitment Boston wanted to make to me. Cherington said he was focused on talent, but he wanted talent that included “character.” He wanted guys who cared about each other as much as they cared about winning.
I still vividly remember when the Boston Red Sox made me an offer to return to the team. I was driving down the street in my hometown of Tallahassee. I was on Bannerman Road, not too far from my home, when Ben called my cell phone. It was a three-way call between myself, Chow, and Ben. When Ben started to talk numbers, I immediately pulled into a Chevron gas station. I was like, “Are you kidding me?”
I sat in my car near the car wash at the gas station because I wanted to make sure I never lost this call because it was one of those amazing moments. I realized that being a solid person had actually suddenly become really valuable to me, and it was more money than I had ever been offered at one time. It was an overwhelming moment. I didn’t want to lose the call because I wasn’t sure I had heard Ben right. I had.
On November 12, 2012, I signed a two-year, $6.2 million deal. It was the most lucrative contract of my career—and to show how far I had come, it was a huge improvement over my rookie year salary of $310,000 with the Los Angeles Dodgers in 2004. It was reported by the media that my return was “more than a backup but not a starter” behind Jarrod Saltalamacchia. The Red Sox also had a young, talented catcher in Ryan Lavarnway.
But it was about more than salary and the depth chart.
For the first time, I was a real priority. There were other teams involved but the Red Sox brass made it clear: “Hey, we really, really want you. You’re number one on our list.” The Red Sox said they had a Plan A and a Plan B, and Plan A started with me. That meant so much to me. I was their number-one target as a backup. That’s weird, right? The Tampa Bay Rays were in the mix, too, and my wife, Hyla, wanted to go to Tampa so bad. Her sister had recently moved to Tampa from Tallahassee. The two cities are 275 miles apart, and playing close to home would have been nice. It’s only a four-hour drive but the Rays were about one million dollars short in salary, and a million dollars is a million dollars (especially when you know your first career has an early expiration date).
And the Red Sox are the Red Sox.
Ben signed seven key free agents in November and December 2012: myself, former Oakland Athletics outfielder Jonny Gomes, former Rangers and Angels catcher/first baseman Mike Napoli, former Phillies and Dodgers outfielder Shane Victorino, former Baltimore Orioles and Rangers relief pitcher Koji Uehara, former Arizona Diamondbacks and Athletics shortstop Stephen Drew, and former Texas starter Ryan Dempster, who had been traded by the Cubs to the Rangers in July 2012 at the trade deadline. And with the return of core players such as David Ortiz, Jacoby Ellsbury, Jon Lester, and John Lackey, all the pieces were in place for a helluva season.
DAVID’S iPHONE JOURNAL
3/4/16
Made a great play today in first game. Coolest thing was the looks on my coaches’ faces and a high-five from everyone in the dugout. Felt like I high-fived 60 people. My son said to me today after his baseball practice, “Dad, in Arizona, can we have boy time and throw and catch the ball?”
It was a remarkable season in so many ways.
After Boston finished last in the American League East in 2012, we became the eleventh team in major-league history to go from worst in the division to first the next season when we clinched the AL East division title in September. At 97-65, we had the best record in the American League and tied the St. Louis Cardinals for the best record in baseball.
We went on to beat the Cardinals four games to two to capture the organization’s eighth World Series. We were the first team since the 1991 Minnesota Twins to win the Series after finishing in last place. And, for the first time, Boston defeated the same franchise twice to win the Series.
I had the game-winning hit in Game Five and caught the final pitch in Game Six that saw us clinch the title at Fenway Park for the first time in ninety-five years. Lifting reliever Koji Uehara into the air in celebration after he struck out Matt Carpenter for that final out is an image and feeling I will always remember. And I still have that baseball. I tucked it in my back pocket as I ran to the mound. Nobody from the Red Sox ever asked me for it, and I have it in a glass case on the mantel in my Tallahassee home. (Hope they don’t ask for it after they read this!)
We had such a tight group of players. In spring training earlier that season, Napoli and Gomes started to grow out their beards. It caught on with many of the players, and our beards were a rallying point for players and fans. We tugged on each other’s beards in celebration and many fans wore real or fake beards to games in our honor. And I’ll never forget how much—from day one of spring training—our group talked about winning the World Series.
I’d never been around a team that talked about winning the World Series as much as we did that year. From the first day of spring training, guys talked about winning the World Series. We had shirts made at the All-Star break with a duck boat on the back. It was just another day closer to the World Series victory parade using those tourist boats in Boston. Literally, we talked like that the entire season.
That mentality started with second baseman Dustin Pedroia. This guy makes everybody better! In spring training in 2013, team president Larry Lucchino asked Dustin in the hallway, “How do you think we are going to do this year?” And in his matter-of-fact way, Peddy (pronounced “PD”) said, “We’re going to win the World Series!” Larry said he would buy him a car if we did. Dustin is now the proud owner of a sick Ford Raptor!
It was a tough year, too.
I missed sixty-five games after I suffered two concussions within a month’s span. For the second time, I thought my career might be over. It was a lonely place, being sent back home in Tallahassee for two months and not knowing if the game I loved might be taken away. It was a dark time for me. But thanks to the help and support of a lot of people, my family, good doctors, and the Red Sox organization, I returned in August and contributed to our Series title.
The other reason it was a tough time came from the outside world. On April 15—Patriots Day—two pressure cooker bombs exploded twelve seconds apart at 2:49 p.m. in the middle of the crowd that had gathered at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. The terror attack killed three spectators and injured 264 others. Two police offers also died during the pursuit of the suspects.
We beat Tampa Bay at Fenway Park earlier that afternoon to sweep the Rays and close out a six-game home stand, and we headed to Cleveland later that day without really knowing what had happened. We’d heard that something bad had happened, but nobody knew the specifics at that time. We were on the team buses, headed to the airport, and I tried to get in touch with my family but couldn’t get through on my cell phone. Everyone was panicked, very hectic. We found out more in Cleveland. It was all we talked about at our team dinner that night. And the Boston Marathon bombing was on our minds for the remainder of the season. We felt a responsibility to do something special for the city. We knew, from that moment on, that we were playing for something far bigger than our team.
That’s what was so special about the whole championship. The Red Sox had won other World Series, but Jonny Gomes said it best: We didn’t win a championship for the Boston Red Sox. We won a championship for Boston. And it wasn’t even just for Boston: It was a northeastern championship.
We tried to go out on a daily basis and just give it our all. After we returned from a three-game road trip to Cleveland, our home game against Kansas City on Friday, April 19 was postponed as authorities searched for the bombers, who turned out to be Chechen brothers Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev. We were locked down in our apartment next to Fenway Park for the day, and nobody could leave. We went up to the rooftop and ate pizza and watched the news for updates. Many first responders walked into our clubhouse the next day and they were beaten down. They were tired. They had not slept in probably three or four days, and I saw the wear and tear. And it just hit home. They were happy to see us, and that was humbling as a player. We get paid a lot of money to play a game, and our nurses, firefighters, and police officers don’t get the recognition and the pay that they should. But here were these people wanting to shake our hands.
When we returned to Fenway Park for Saturday’s game, emergency personnel were honored and they played Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” during a pregame ceremony. And David Ortiz, of course, took the microphone and shouted a line that became an emotional anthem for Boston: “This is our fucking city!” Everyone came together. It still gives me chills thinking about it today.
We visited hospitals and those visits brightened people’s day. You wouldn’t believe how happy people were that we came and signed some baseballs and brought them some autographs; some of them had lost limbs. People gave us standing ovations when we walked in. They’re laughing and joking with us, and I am just so—I’m a blip on the map. I’m a redneck from Tallahassee. They were the ones who ran toward the injured next to where the bomb exploded. I can’t say that I would’ve done that. You can’t fake courage like that.
DAVID’S iPHONE JOURNAL
3/6/16
Was nice to get a hit today. Saw the ball good. Missed a few blocks that cost us some runs. Need to work on that! Just got home from Jake’s surprise 30th birthday party, it was a blast! Guys told stories and wives chatted. Seeing all the wives made me miss my wife. The boys made fun of me for yelling at Lester! Hahaha, I am an asshole when I play!! It was good to know Adam Warren and a few new guys. The Motte family was there. Always great to see them. Got tomorrow off. We have a split-squad game. Going to go in and work out and then come home.
I learned how to win in Boston in 2013. I was obsessed with winning. And, in large part, it was because of the collection of talented players and strong personalities we had. And the season also demonstrated how everything came together to make it so special. We know how the 2014 season ended, right?
Even with the same manager and many of the same players from 2013, we finished last in the American League East to become the first defending champions to finish last in their division the next season since the Florida Marlins in 1998. We also took it a step further in 2014. We were the first major-league team to finish last in one season (2012), win the World Series the next (2013), and finish last again the following year (2014). It was an up-and-down journey in Boston in my two years—I played in 86 games combined—but 2013 is a year I will always cherish because of those guys.
Second baseman Dustin Pedroia gets it. He never shuts off. Ever. I fired him a text message one night around 2 a.m. during the 2013 season. I couldn’t sleep and was watching ESPN. I figured Dustin was asleep and wouldn’t see the text until the morning. Dustin is the best second baseman I have seen when it comes to defending the push bunt. He’s the best at coming forward. So I fired him a text like, “Hey man, you’re a stud. You’re the best in the game at coming forward.” I wanted to compliment him. Well, I get a return text immediately. He was like, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll show you the awards tomorrow. Get some rest, we’ve got a game to win. You’re catching tomorrow.” That’s Dustin. He was saying he knows he’s good, he doesn’t need me to pump him up. He just needs me to shut up and take care of my catching.
I talked to Hyla all the time about Jonny Gomes. He’s just a really unique guy as far as his career path and life story, and his mental side of life, really. He’s so arrogant about the fact that he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s like, “I knew I was going to hit a walk-off right there; you didn’t?” I’m a guy who plans for the worst so I’m never disappointed. I try not to get disappointed so when things do happen, I am excited. I am fired up. Jonny’s the other way around. He knows he’s about to do it, and when he does, he gets excited. His approach made me better as a player.
Ryan Dempster was funny in a cocky way. Ryan, Jonny, and myself had spent time in organizations that were decidedly not the Red Sox. The amenities were not the same. With the Sox, we traveled on planes that had a smorgasbord of food, drinks, snacks—healthy, nonhealthy, whatever you wanted. They were family flights and they even had Chick-fil-A kids’ meals on them. It was just over the top. Dempsey made fun of it, like, “I’m tired of these Doritos, I want better chips on my flight.” He said it jokingly but it was almost like, “Yeah, cater to us because we’re going to win the whole thing. We’re fixing to nail this. Go ahead and give us whatever we want.” The mindset never failed to make me laugh.
Dempster was a good glue piece. He got along with everyone. He can hold a room in a heartbeat. We had one incident on a bus ride—I think we were in New York—where it got a little hairy. Dempster had started to rile the guys, but it was hilarious the way he went about it. We both got off the bus and he looked at me and I said, “Attaboy.” He just started laughing because that was his way of getting everyone going. As a team, we never lost more than three games in a row that season. That’s amazing. Some people lose sight of that.
Pitcher Jake Peavy was traded to the Red Sox in July 2013 from the Chicago White Sox. Jake and I had played together in San Diego a few years earlier, in 2005. Jake had been in Boston probably around ten days and he goes, “Rossy, I have never seen anything like this. It’s so different. Every day somebody mentions winning the World Series. Every day somebody in this locker room mentions it.” I laughed and said, “Bro, it’s become just a natural thing.” We expected to win.
I remember once when we landed in Cleveland and were going to a team dinner. We had a “show dinner” that night. Steak, lobster, the whole works. That’s what we called it, “show dinner.” The player who made the most money paid for it. We piled into a cab at the hotel—I think it was me, Dempster, and Lester in the backseat. Pedroia was in the front. The cabbie pulled out and almost immediately he slammed on the brakes. Dustin is dramatic about flying, travel, and everything, and he had this dead straight-face look. He said, “Hey, man, careful, careful. You have the 2013 World Series champs in this car.” I lost it. I was laughing my head off. Dustin was dead serious with this driver. The driver didn’t speak very good English and I am sure he didn’t even understand what Dustin said. But that’s what I mean. We talked like that the entire 2013 season. And everyone jumped on board. It was contagious.
We also ragged manager John Farrell and the coaches. Nobody was safe on the team, and I think that was the greatest thing about that Red Sox team. On the best teams I played for, you could beat each other up in a good way. That allowed you to play freely. If I popped up, somebody the next day might say, “Nice job on that pop-up.” The mindset: everybody knows you are doing your best, so let’s make fun of the bad times.
One game we were scrapping for hits against pitcher Bud Norris and the Houston Astros. Farrell had given Dustin the sign for a hit-and-run against Norris. Dustin popped up and he came back into the dugout pissed. But he was not going to show up anybody. The next day he was in the locker room and passed John. And Dustin said, “[Expletive] Bud Norris.” And we all laughed. He said, “I am a three-hole hitter for the Sox, and you give me a hit-and-run against Bud [expletive] Norris.” Everyone lost it, including John. It was one of those things where Dustin was telling us, “Hey, man, I am going to rake that guy.” I always asked Dustin how he was doing. He would always respond something to the effect of, “How am I? How do you think I am, David? I am a career .303 hitter. I’ve got a gorgeous wife, two kids, and I have a $170 million contract. How the [expletive] do you think I am.” I love that guy!
There was so much camaraderie on that team. It’s like the beards. I had a zigzag line shaved into the back of my head thanks to Big Papi. I was thirty-six years old! We just had a group of guys who bought into whatever was going on. If someone said, “Hey, I’m going to paint my fingernails today for a week, let’s do it,” everybody was on board, let’s go. We just had that type of group.
The beards started in spring training. Napoli came to me and said he and Gomes were growing beards and I should join them. He said it would be awesome. So I grew mine out with him and, after a while, everyone’s beards were thick and nasty. When I was sent home in August with the concussion, I couldn’t go anywhere. And my beard was itching, just a mess. Hyla said, “Why don’t you shave it?” I couldn’t. I knew those guys wouldn’t let me back in the locker room.
The beard tug started when I went to Napoli and told him that the next time he hit a home run, I was going to pull the shit out of his beard. It hurts like hell when somebody tugs on your beard. I told him he’d be so happy he wouldn’t care. He hit a home run and I just pulled the shit out of it. It went crazy. Everyone started to do it. It was just another sign of our closeness. It didn’t matter who you were, you were buying in. Guys who could barely grow beards, or could only grow ugly beards, had them, too.
We had so many cool stories that year, just very human stories. If you watch the World Series film from 2013, you can see Dempster and Peavy standing along the line before the national anthem one game and they are saying, “Boy, we are in the World Series.” Laughing, like can you believe this? How cool is this? These are guys who have played professional baseball fifteen, sixteen years and they are in awe of the moment. I cherished those moments, too. The way they enjoyed the moment stood out to me, and I’ve tried to bring that enjoyment to the rest of my career.
In Game Five of the Series against the Cardinals, I started at catcher for the Sox. Starting pitcher Jon Lester and Koji Uehara were great on the mound in the 3–1 win that give us a three-games-to-two lead. I also had the game-winning hit on an RBI ground-rule double off Cardinals starter Adam Wainwright in the two-run seventh inning. Following the game, I was brought into the media room and stood behind a podium that usually was reserved for the marquee players, not for backup catchers.
Everyone wanted to talk about my big hit. At the press conference, everybody asked how was it, the hit. I was like, “The hit was great, but I’m playing in the World Series. Do you understand how cool this is? I’m at the podium talking to you guys.” I told them I wasn’t going anywhere. They could’ve asked me questions for four hours and I would’ve sat there and answered every one of them.
After we won the World Series, we had a couple of days to decompress. I went to Fenway and into the locker room—we had a bunch of items to autograph—and Ben Cherington was there. I asked if we could talk. He said yes so we went into John Farrell’s office. I said, “Hey, I haven’t asked this all year and I have heard different things, but I’d like to know why you wanted me. Why was I a priority? What did you see in me?” I knew what I brought to the table, I knew the Red Sox recognized that, but I asked Ben how he saw it. I know what I brought to teams wasn’t always on paper. You either had to watch me play or hear from other players what I bring to a team.
Ben said there were two things they looked at when they signed me. He said the first was the pitching staff. It meant a great deal to the organization but it had struggled in 2012. Ben felt there were a couple of different ways to fix it. The Red Sox could get new pitchers, and they didn’t want to do that. Ben felt the talent was there and most of the pitchers were under contract, heavy contracts, and it would be difficult to move players.
When Farrell came in, he brought in a new pitching coach, Juan Nieves, and they needed another catcher. Ben explained there are two primary ways to win games—score a bunch or don’t allow many runs. He said the organization felt I was on that end of the equation, that I didn’t allow many runs. Ben said the organization did its research and found out a number of things, including what kind of person I was. They did their research and my name came up and when John came here, they asked him, “Would you like to have David Ross?” According to Ben, John had jumped out of his seat and said he’d love to have me.
All I could say was, “Wow.”