Bronx, N.Y., October 17, 2004 — The pictures in the Fox-TV coverage toward the end of last night’s Yankee 19-8 humiliation of the Red Sox were dominated by two views, one seen often in Fenway Park, and the other almost never. (I couldn’t tell you what Buck, McCarver, et al, were saying, as we threw that verbal tribute to the powers that be at Fox over the side in the second inning, using the radio for the audio portion of the goings-on. (But I can address the pictures they showed.)

One view was the (seemingly) annual series of pictures of red-clad Boston fans of all stripes, but mostly the very young and very old, sitting in resignation and dismay as their beloved heroes failed on the field of play yet again. But the truly disturbing sight was the 20,000 or so empty seats accompanying that dwindling fanbase, a sight one never witnesses in Fenway. The belligerent, though bogus, swagger of the many in Red Sox Nation who gladly and loudly assure Yankee fans, year after year, that this year is THE year they have the team to dethrone the Bombers. This eventually translates into even greater joy when the Yankees surpass them, but that perhaps will not be the case Sunday night.

The Yankees demolished the Boston machine built by the likes of Theo Epstein, Larry Lucchino, Bill James, and Terry Francona in every way imaginable Saturday night. After silencing their vaunted bats by allowing but one single in the first six innings of Yankee victories in Games One and Two, last night the Bombers used their own bats to bash and destroy promising starter Brandon (oops, Alex and I apologize, Bronson) Arroyo and five relievers for record-breaking totals in runs, hits, extra-base hits, multi-run innings, and total bases, and that doesn’t begin to list the individual firsts New York offenders achieved.

So Sunday evening, we face the prospect of a Yankees/Red Sox contest in Boston where the home crowd may even be quieter than they were last night once two-thirds of them had left the scene of the crime. Will the Yanks and their fans be able to keep the medal to the pedal, so to speak, in light of such a devastating blow to their once-spirited competition? Or will the starch go out of the attack once so many on the other side have become more an object of pity than anger and recrimination?

I have no crystal ball, and I do not know what the Sox will bring to the table Sunday night. But regardless of the quality of the opposition, or the atmosphere in the Park, I would advise the Yankees and the faithful to be unflagging in their efforts. Being taken to extra innings in the seventh game last year, though absolute torture while the time crept past, may have led so many on both sides to have witnessed one of the finest spectacles in professional spectator sports that any of us are likely to ever see. The nervous anticipation, agonizing setbacks, and (in the case of the New Yorkers) glorious victory are something I know I’ll never forget.

But I have no problem with this year taking a totally different approach. Last year, the Bostoners were the worthy opposition. This year, I think they overstepped the bounds a few times in their attempt to round the corner and overtake the Yanks. It is not a new story, for instance, that the current Boston ownership group was awarded the franchise when they were clearly outbid when they purchased the team. But moving onto the recent offsesson, it is clear that major league baseball did accompany them the extra mile in the attempt to make the Boston/A-Rod marriage work, before resignedly letting Rodriguez go to the Yanks once Epstein blinked at the bargaining table, and Aaron Boone left third base in the Bronx untended.

Further, the ownership and fanbase in New York have continued their ongoing love affair with their stars who have moved on, the opposite of the treatment the used-to-be soul of the franchise Nomar Garciaparra received in Boston. Tino Martinez and David Wells received standing ovations in the House That Ruth Built while playing for opposing teams. Garciaparra, leery of signing long-term after the player-unfriendly Duquette years, was offered around, and eventually shipped out of a town that at one time loved him as a hero like no other.

But how another city’s team and their fans treat a longtime favorite is not really either my business or my problem. As a Yankee fan, I have thrilled to the exploits of Wade Boggs and Roger Clemens in Pinstripes, but I feel just as strongly about Martinez, Wells, Alfonso Soriano and Ricky Ledee in their post-Yankee lives. But the reason I exhort my team and their fans to pursue a sweep with all vigor has nothing to do with ex-players in the Passion Play, but with current ones.

I have heard it time and again. The 2004 Red Sox season was turned around when Jason Varitek stood up to Alex Rodriguez in Fenway Park on July 24. We know that after a fiery April start during which they took six of seven from the Yanks, the 2004 Red Sox played .500 ball for months. But that day, the much-reviled-in-Boston Rodriguez took exception to being drilled by young Boston righty Arroyo, and he let him know it as he headed for first. Red Sox fans will tell you (and have told me, repeatedly) that catcher Jason Varitek rose to the occasion, protecting his rookie hurler and placing the team on his back as he went after A-Rod with his mask on.

This is an area where we (Red Sox Nation and I) will have to agree to disagree. It is undeniable that from that point on, Boston played better ball. Starting with Bill Mueller’s two-run gamer off Mariano Rivera that day, they played .700 ball through the end of the season. They outhit the league, and the later trade that sent Garciaparra to Chicago for three defensive players solidified their play on the diamond. The bats and glove work were more than enough to survive a Wild Card race once the Yanks denied them the Eastern crown for the seventh year running.

Starters Derek Lowe and Tim Wakefield continued subpar years, and Pedro Martinez faded late, but a strong run by Arroyo and effective work in the pen combined with the dominating year they got from Curt Schilling to put them in the playoffs. Not only that, once they swept the Angels in three in the ALDS while the Yanks survived the Twins despite losing Game One, many placed them as favorites to unseat the hated Yankees in this year’s ALCS.

I’ll admit it. “Cowboy Up” from 2003 both infuriated and exasperated me. One could see even back then that Nomar had been supplanted in the that clubhouse, and in the hearts of Boston, as that was a crew with which Garciaparra had nothing in common. But if last year’s “Cowboy” couldn’t unseat the Yanks, why should this year’s “Idiot”?

That is still a great team in Boston. And they have one of the most faithful fanbases that can be found in modern sports. This year, I think that “faith” slipped a bit. They let Nomar go with barely a whimper. Then they built up their team by trying to ride what was in essence a cowardly act, at least in this fan’s admittedly subjective view. So although I have not uttered “Boston S___” in the Bronx in 26 years, rarely resort to the more nuanced “1918,” and even controlled myself somewhat during “Father’s Day” in the Stadium on Wednesday night, I’ll have little trouble if Fox TV shows pictures in the latter innings tonight similar to those they displayed Saturday night.

I have just one thing to say to my Yankees as they approach Game Four:

Swing [at] Lowe, Sweet Yankee Bats

YANKEE BASEBALL!!!