“The Ultimate Teammate”: Paying Tribute to One of the Greats

It was June of 2010. My husband Dan and I were engaging in one of our favorite pastimes: catching a ballgame. This one happened to be in Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox.

When knuckleballer Tim Wakefield left the game, he was given a standing ovation in spite of the rather pedestrian outing (6 inning pitched, 3 earned runs, 5 hits, 6 strikeouts). When Dan questioned why that performance warranted such fanfare, I shrugged and said, ‘it’s Wake.’

For Sox fans, that was the only explanation needed. Wakefield has always been, to put it mildly, beloved — and by a group that’s not easy to please.

By the time his 19-year career ended in 2011, he had already cemented his legacy, not just as a solid, durable pitcher, but also as a workhorse and, according to one of his coaches, “the ultimate teammate.”

And so, when I heard Tim Wakefield had passed away earlier this week after a brief battle with brain cancer, it really hit me. Not just because he was only 57, but because he was a genuinely good person. The kind of athlete you want on your team; the kind of person you want in your corner. During the last few days, countless players, managers, announcers, and baseball personnel — both former and current — paid tribute to Wake’s successful career, and even more so, his character.

My favorite came from Terry Francona, Wakefield’s coach from 2004 to 2011. Francona, who announced his retirement this past week, relayed a story from the 2004 American League Championship Series. The Red Sox, who trailed the Yankees two games to none (in a best of 7 series), continued to struggle in Game 3. By the fourth inning, Boston had gone through three pitchers, none of whom could seem to cool down the Yankees’ hot bats. With his team down 11-6, Francona had a difficult decision to make.

That’s when Wakefield — who had been scheduled to pitch the next game — stepped in, as Francona recalled in his book. “Halfway through Game 3, we were already thinking about Game 4. When Wake came up the steps with his glove and volunteered to pitch, I was like, ‘Here we go. He’s going to eat up some innings, and we’re going to save our guys and be ready for Game 4.’ It kept me going. At that point, it was all about how we were going to move forward.”

Wakefield’s decision to assume “mop-up duty” helped keep relievers Keith Foulke and Mike Timlin fresh, which proved pivotal in Boston’s historic comeback (the Red Sox rallied back to win the next four games, finally defeating their rivals, then went on to win their first World Series in 86 years).

“He saved our bacon,” Francona said in an interview. “I’m not sure what happens if he doesn’t step up like that.”

But he did, and that’s what makes it tough to lose someone like Wakefield.

“The greatest accomplishment you could have as an athlete isn’t a championship or a Hall of Fame nod, although Wakefield did have those on his resume. It’s being universally respected and admired by your teammates, and Wakefield had that in spades,” stated NESN (New England Sports Network) beat writer Mike Cole. “It’s pretty clear by how his teammates have already reacted to this sad news that those gestures — big or small — didn’t go unappreciated.”

Here’s hoping they never do. RIP, Wake.