Nomar's bittersweet Boston visit

BOSTON – Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein was making his way to the press conference to discuss his trade of Nomar Garciaparra(notes) when his cell phone rang. It was his brother, Paul, a social worker, who had heard the news on his car radio while driving home from Cape Cod.

"What did you do?'' Paul Epstein said. "I hope you're right, because they're killing you.''

A few hours later, Theo had not yet left his office. The phone rang again. This time it was John W. Henry, the Red Sox owner.

"You must feel,'' Henry said, "like the loneliest man in America.''

Five years later, Garciaparra returned Monday to Fenway Park for the first time since the trade that rivaled the sale of Babe Ruth as the most shocking exile of a Boston Red Sox player in franchise history. Garciaparra, who turns 36 on July 23, is in the uniform of the Oakland Athletics, the third he has worn since leaving Boston, having also played for the Chicago Cubs and Los Angeles Dodgers. As usual, he is hurt, a calf injury that already has sent him to the disabled list twice this season and limits how much he can play defensively.

The familiar No. 5 that was on his back during his nearly eight full seasons with the Red Sox, a number that seemed destined to find its spot above the right-field grandstand in Fenway Park with the retired number of other Sox greats, is now worn by Rocco Baldelli(notes), a backup Boston outfielder.

Garciaparra was in Kelly green and gold when he walked behind the cage while the Red Sox were taking batting practice and embraced captain Jason Varitek(notes), who led him down the dugout steps and toward the interview room where Garciaparra met with reporters.

"I have so many great memories here,'' he said. "This is where my career started. For me, that's what's going to go through me. I'm excited to come back. The Red Sox are such a big part of my heart, my life.''

He said he'd be thinking about the dents left by line drives in the Green Monster wall, which remind him of a dimpled golf ball. "I know I left my dents,'' he said. "So many great players left dents. I wonder whose dents are next to mine?''

A dozen years have passed since the Mexican-American kid with a Georgia Tech education and a funny name – his father Ramon's name spelled backward – burst onto the scene with a debut as stunning as any seen in Boston since Fred Lynn and Jim Rice in 1975. His toe-tapping and glove-tugging rituals at the plate were emulated by a generation of Little Leaguers, his skills discussed by grizzled observers in glowing terms usually reserved for legends.

"This kid,'' his first manager, Jimy Williams, said without a whiff of put-on, ''has been here before. He played with Cobb. He played with Shoeless Joe.''

He was Nomar, like Carl Yastrzemski was Yaz and Roger Clemens(notes) was The Rocket. On his way to winning Rookie of the Year in 1997, he hit in 30 consecutive games, an American League record for a rookie. He hit 30 home runs and set a major league record for RBIs by a leadoff hitter.

Ted Williams honored Garciaparra at his Hitters Hall of Fame, then anointed him with praise unlike any he'd ever uttered: "Boy, I'm looking at someone who is going to be as good as anyone who has ever played this game. I say that, and, boy, I believe it, too.''

Nomar Garciaparra tips his hat to the crowds applause during his first return to Fenway Park.

(Elsa/Getty Images)

That was before Garciaparra won back-to-back batting titles in 1999 and 2000, the first right-handed hitter to do so in the AL since Joe DiMaggio. The most popular debate of the day revolved around who was the better shortstop – Nomar or A-Rod or Derek Jeter(notes) – much like a bygone generation of New Yorkers used to fight over who was the better center fielder, Willie, Mick or the Duke.

But Garciaparra was never as comfortable off the field as he was on. He was wary and suspicious of the media, bristled at times at the front office, and was too much the loner to wear the mantle of leadership that might have been his.

Then came the injuries, in stunning succession after he'd appeared nearly indestructible while posing shirtless and muscle-bound on the cover of Sports Illustrated under the heading, "A Cut Above," a pose that inadvertently was emblematic of an entire artificially enhanced era.

A wrist injury was the first major setback, requiring surgery in 2001. Garciaparra, after missing 103 games, would hit a home run and game-winning single in his first game back, but it remained an open question whether he would ever be the hitter he was before the surgery.

Even so, the Red Sox were committed to locking him long-term, offering him a four-year, $60 million deal in the spring of 2003, with Garciaparra eligible for free agency after the 2004 season. The offer paled compared to the deals given A-Rod and Jeter, and Garciaparra balked. It would be a fateful decision. The relationship between player and management would soon crumble. The Red Sox tried to trade for A-Rod in the offseason; they also offered Garciaparra less money to re-sign, saying the market had changed.

Those double blows sent Garciaparra into a funk from which he never recovered. Epstein was on his way to New York to meet with A-Rod when Garciaparra called; the Boston GM told Garciaparra he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't be pursuing trades. What he didn't tell Nomar was that he had a trade in place to send him to the White Sox for Magglio Ordonez(notes) if the A-Rod deal was consummated.

When spring training came around, Garciaparra was still bitter, even though the Yankees had wound up with Rodriguez. Now it was management's turn to become excised; Garciaparra came up with an inflamed Achilles tendon, which he said was hurt on a back practice field while no one else evidently was watching. The Sox didn't believe him; they assumed he'd gotten hurt during an offseason workout.

Garciaparra's unhappiness about his contract situation was evident to anyone entering the Red Sox clubhouse, his chair turned inward to his locker. Sox officials heard stories that Garciaparra was becoming increasingly paranoid, even to the point that he thought that his phone was bugged.

Mindful that he could elect to leave after the season, the Red Sox became even more motivated to deal him when their defensive metrics showed his performance had slipped drastically. Exacerbating the situation further was Garciaparra telling Red Sox owners that he wasn't certain whether he'd be able to play with the injury.

The Red Sox were locked in another tight race with the Yankees. Emblematic of the difference between the teams was the July game against the Red Sox when Jeter risked injury running full speed and diving into the box seats to catch a popup while Garciaparra skulked on the Boston bench.

Still, it's one thing to decide that trading him was the right thing to do, another to actually pull the trigger. After the press conference, Epstein walked back to his office; on the TV was a photo of a smiling Garciaparra, a Cubs cap superimposed on his head, with the headline, "Red Sox trade franchise shortstop.'' Epstein may not have been the loneliest man in America, but that night, unable to sleep, he took a sleeping pill.

The postscript to the trade, of course, could not have worked out better for Boston. Shortstop Orlando Cabrera(notes) and first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz(notes) dramatically upgraded the team's defense, and the Red Sox embarked on a tear that ended with their first World Series title in 86 years. Three years later, there would be another.

For Garciaparra, a more somber tale: Multiple trips to the disabled list, six in the last three years alone. A total of just 434 games in five seasons, a .287 average and 50 home runs in life after Boston, compared to .323 and 228 home runs in a Red Sox uniform. His days as an everyday shortstop are long over; he fills in at third and first and serves as DH.

Monday night, Oakland manager Bob Geren had Garciaparra at DH, batting sixth.

"Regret or do anything differently?'' he said, repeating a question. "On the field I gave everything I had. I know that's one thing the fans always appreciated. I think when you look back on anyone's life, there's always something you could do different. I'm no different. Everybody's got to look in the mirror at some time.

"But when I look in the mirror, I also know I did everything I could with good conscience and a good heart. Hopefully, I showed how much I respected the game.''

After winning in 2004, the Red Sox voted Garciaparra a World Series share and gave him a ring. And Monday night, another sellout at Fenway would remember him in sepia tones, tapping his toes in the batter's box, pulling tight on his batting gloves, swinging like a kid destined to be remembered as one of the best to ever play the game.