The Red Sox aren’t actually worse in the first month of the Chad Tracy era…but they feel worse.
With this early milestone just passed, it’s fair to ask what has changed. If things had actually changed, this would be a really fun exercise. But, as I look around, a fair answer is…not much? There have been some cosmetic differences, sure, like Mickey Gasper and Nick Sogard being called up from Triple A. Trevor Story’s hernia forced a decision at shortstop, with Marcelo Mayer eventually slotting into
the starter role. If not for Story’s IL stint, that’s a change which I suspect would not otherwise have been made right now. (For the record, I’m in favor of it.)
But the anemic offense hasn’t changed. Neither has the winning percentage, at least not by much. Nor the Sox place in the standings, either.
The one place I see a clear difference is in the fan support. The Sox have lost us in 2026. I say this as a lifer, and with genuine regret.
At the end of April, surprising as the timing was, the firing of Cora & Co. seemed to hold out some hope for a big change. A morale boost, a turnaround, a shift in mechanics/procedure/process/whatever that might have cracked open a new version of this team. There was also the hope that all of the individual players who are “just not performing to their career norms,” as Craig Breslow put it, would either get on track due to the coaching change, or naturally emerge from their respective slumps if given enough time. While Duran and Mayer may be showing more signs of life recently, this hasn’t happened across the board.
Allowing ourselves to believe that shaking things up with the coaching staff might right the ship was a dream that might have been semi-believable in April. I wasn’t sure that was what needed to happen, but I was willing to let the theory play out. I would’ve been thrilled if it had worked.
But it’s not April anymore; it’s the cusp of June. Shit has gotten real over the past month. No matter the state of the AL East and the possibility that the Sox still have a ridiculously reasonable chance at making the third Wild Card spot, everyone agrees that the team is just terrible. I see it in comments, message boards, casual conversations. On air, in print, online, among friends. The team is painful to watch and this whole thing [gestures wildly] is painful to watch.
I have no trouble critiquing a play, a bad performance, an approach…but I sure don’t like to criticize the entire enterprise. It goes too far against the grain to feel like everything is wrong. I want to feel like there’s a possibility for redemption or joy somewhere in this season, but I can’t find it right now. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I stay away from the televised games whenever I can. I’m not sure I can be bothered to travel the seven miles downtown to see them when they come to Seattle in June. My entire life, this has been unthinkable. I’ve gone to outlandish, crazy lengths to see the Red Sox whenever, wherever, and however I can.
I’m usually a pretty positive person and many people who know me might say that I live for the Red Sox. It takes a lot to turn a diehard fan into a stone. Blame Fatse…blame Cora…no, blame Breslow. Sell the team. I haven’t advocated for any of those things. And yet…
In grad school, it was common to talk about “filling up the vessel.” Forgive this fine arts-speak, which is a shorthand way to talk about replenishing creative energy. The vessel is you. The vessel gets emptied as you naturally go about your day, expending energy. Doing something restorative, or even better—inspiring—fills up the vessel. This could be as simple as avoiding burnout by going home to get some rest. I think it was Picasso who said he invited people to his studio every morning (filling up the vessel), so that he had something to paint every afternoon.
Our damn Red Sox vessel is dry and we’re parched and we’re in a drought, okay? And we still have 105 games left on this slog through treacherous terrain (see: Guardians, Orioles, Yankees, Rays next on the schedule). There’s nothing new being poured into our collective vessel.
If it weren’t for Payton Tolle’s big heart and Connelly Early’s grin as he leans on the dugout rail and talks with the other pitchers, I’d have nothing at all in the tank for this team.
Yes, of course, if Roman Anthony returns rested and healthy, and once again takes up the mantle of superstar-in-the-making, that would add something to the vessel. If Garrett Crochet gets back to being a lights-out pig, that’s more for the vessel.
It’s summer now. They’re still my team but…the Red Sox have to give us something. Fans have become pretty depleted over the last month.
