Big Papi is gamely doddering along

BOSTON – Long before the ticket windows would open, before the neighborhood bars would see their first spilled ale and at a time interlopers in navy Yankees caps would be still somewhat welcome on adjacent stools, David Ortiz(notes) searched.

His swing lost in late spring, the demise of his legendary career again a regular Back Bay conversation starter, Ortiz would sweat through a couple layers of casual batting practice wear.

Half-squatting in his familiar stance in the batting cage, a place just large enough for a man and his self-doubts, Ortiz would swing until there were no more balls to swing at, kick them all back to the mound, and swing again.

More than seven hours later at Fenway Park, as the New York Yankees celebrated their 10-3 win by forming a thin gray line from the pitcher's mound to their dugout, Ortiz would carry a line-drive single and a sacrifice fly to the clubhouse, leaving two more strikeouts to make their own way up that flight of stairs.

Maybe it's progress. He had a hit. Maybe it's not. His 27 strikeouts have come in 73 at-bats.

''Like I said,'' Ortiz said, ''I'll let you know. I'm working on it.''

Tossed a softball about feeling perhaps, you know, a little encouraged, he shook his head. ''No,'' he said.

He slid on a pair of sunglasses and made his way to the clubhouse exit.

''Have a good night,'' he said. ''You're watching the game just like us.''

A lot had gone wrong. Josh Beckett(notes) had positively melted down, firing reckless fastballs that crashed into two Yankees hitters and one Red Sox catcher, giving up nine runs in a little more than five innings, adding one more name to the Nation's list of ''Hey, what the heck is going on with (insert name of Red Sox player/starter)?''

At least Ortiz won't be lonely.

He had dragged his .171 batting average, his .266 on-base percentage, his .120 batting average with runners in scoring position, into a three-game series against the Yankees, into a rivalry he – and a couple handful of pals – once revived.

No matter what he hits (or doesn't) – and this complicates things a little – he'll always be that guy, too.

Going on six years since the 15 minutes that changed everything, Ortiz is the last of the eight men to have participated in the bottom-of-the-ninth, Game 4 ALCS ambush of the Yankees and Mariano Rivera(notes) in 2004 to still wear the home team colors.

That means something in these parts. That and the five consecutive seasons in the MVP balloting top five, the 40-homer summers, the curtain-call walk-offs, the parades, the hugs that warmed an entire town, they buy a man some time to get his swing together.

If there can be no more Kevin Millar(notes) (cowboying up, St. Paul Saints), Dave Roberts(notes) (coach, San Diego Padres), Bill Mueller(notes) (front office, Los Angeles Dodgers), Doug Mientkiewicz(notes) (minor leagues, Florida Marlins), Johnny Damon(notes) (left field, Detroit Tigers), Orlando Cabrera(notes) (shortstop, Cincinnati Reds), Manny Ramirez(notes) (left field, Dodgers), who banded together for the single run that renovated a franchise, there can still be Ortiz, who popped out to end that inning (but, of course, homered in the 12th to win the game).

Along the way since, Red Sox faithful have traded the now-I-can-die-in-peace headstones for understated yet audible misgivings when Ortiz trudges toward the batter's box. They booed Beckett when manager Terry Francona finally and mercifully relieved him of the baseball.

There's a limit to loyalty, of course, and it would appear Ortiz is pushing it again. After coming out slow last season and suffering the indignities of batting .196 in the middle of June, the very proud Ortiz will have to go some to get there by this June. His sixth-inning single against the otherwise dominant Phil Hughes(notes) lifted his average to .178.

''He's cheating,'' one scout said, meaning Ortiz starts his swing early in order to catch up to the fastball, leaving himself especially vulnerable to off-speed stuff. ''It doesn't look good right now.''

Given Ortiz was hitting below .200 against all comers – lefties, righties, left-handed starters, right-handed starters – Francona has fed him a fighting chance by giving lefties over to Mike Lowell(notes) in a fairly structured DH platoon. That, along with a four-game sweep of the untidy Los Angeles Angels, had helped push the Red Sox to a winning record for the first time since opening day. Now they have dipped back to .500.

Francona still insists on batting Ortiz fifth, on Friday night ahead of Adrian Beltre(notes), who is batting .339.

The sentimentality is admirable, particularly in May, particularly when Ortiz turned himself back into a more than reasonable hitter by the middle of last summer, particularly as Ortiz worked so hard – he lost at least 20 pounds over the winter – to ensure this sort of thing wouldn't happen again.

But, here he is, and here the Red Sox are, one straining to hit .180, the other six games behind the second-place Yankees. It's not entirely Ortiz's fault, but, for the moment, he's not part of the solution, either.

The little boys and girls still scream his name, ''Pah-PEE!'' He still stops and smiles at them and flutters his fingers at them and loves them back. Just like he always did.

And he is still searching. That's admirable too.