FORT MYERS, Fla. — His photo was on the cover of the Globe Magazine last Sunday — a 28-year-old Carl Yastrzemski chomping on a cigar, his head swathed in shaving cream, a throng of news photographers and cameramen following his every move.
It was the best of all the days in the best of all the seasons. It was Oct. 1, 1967, a Sunday afternoon, the final day of an epic regular season, and the Red Sox had just learned via their clubhouse radio that the California Angels had defeated the Detroit Tigers in Tiger Stadium, delivering the Boston Red Sox to their first World Series in 21 years.
“I think that was the best moment,’’ Yaz said last week in a telephone interview. “It was Sunday and we were behind and we rallied. That was a big thing. [Jim] Lonborg beating the bunt out. We were going up against a great pitcher in Dean Chance.’’
A generation of New England baby boomers — folks who check their 401 (k) plans with the same regularity they used to check the American League East standings — can recite a lot of these details even better than The Man They Call Yaz.
Greatest pennant race in big league history . . . four teams tied for first place on Sept. 6 . . . Sox need to sweep Twins at home in final two games . . . Win Saturday, 6-4, because Jim Kaat gets hurt and has to leave the mound . . . Yaz hits No. 44 . . . Lonborg vs. Chance in the Sunday finale . . . Sox trail, 2-0, when Lonborg leads off sixth with surprise bunt single . . . Sox rally for five and win, 5-3 . . . Yaz goes 7 for 8 over two days . . . Final out is a popup by Rich Rollins, gloved by Rico Petrocelli . . . “pandemonium on the field’’ . . . Don Gillis interviews Yaz on live TV for Channel 5 . . . Sox wait in their clubhouse listening to Ernie Harwell’s smooth account of the game in Detroit . . . Oozing integrity, Angels manager Bill Rigney has three relievers warming up at one time while his team secures its victory over Detroit . . . Sox clubhouse erupts when the Tigers’ Dick McAuliffe grounds into a double play to end the game.
If you are over 60 and you lived in New England and love baseball, you know all of the above the way you know the names of your children . . . maybe the way you were once able to recite “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.’’
The Red Sox of the 21st century are three-time champions with a global brand, playing in an ancient ballpark that serves simultaneously as a cash cow and local tourist destination on par with anything on the Freedom Trail. The Sox are huge. They print money. And they have turned the Fenway Park experience into the sports equivalent of a trip to Disneyland.
And like it or not, for better or worse, none of this happens without the 1967 season. None of it happens without Yaz. The 1967 season forever changed the image and perception of the Red Sox.
It’s like when you watch “The Wizard of Oz’’ and the film switches from black and white to dazzling color. That is what happened to Boston baseball in the summer of 1967.
And now a half-century has passed. We are in the early days of the golden anniversary of the Impossible Dream season. And Yaz, who lit the torch for the eternal flame of ‘67, is 77 years old.
I asked him how he got off the Fenway field on that final day against the Twins, after Petrocelli caught the popup. Lonborg was mobbed by fans who tore all the buttons off his No. 16 jersey before he made it to the clubhouse.
“Somehow I got by all that,’’ said Yaz. “They were heading for Lonborg and I went around, heading for the dugout.’’
Did he ever put a match to the cigar, Red Auerbach style?
“I don’t think I lit it,’’ he said with a laugh. “I think I just chewed on it.’’
Yaz has two retirement residences — one north of Boston, where he can fish daily near Plum Island, and another on the posh east coast of Florida. He stays in shape by playing golf five days a week and working on cardio machines at a gym. He walks a lot. He follows the progress of his grandson, Mike, an outfield prospect in the Orioles system.
Yaz makes a pilgrimage to the opposite side of Florida each spring to work with Red Sox hitters. He’s due to pull into Fort Myers this week and he knows that any Boston baby boomer he meets will remind him that this is the 50th anniversary of the greatest summer of our lives. The Red Sox — masters of nostalgia and celebrations of past glory — have yet to announce plans to commemorate the 1967 season, but Yaz said he’s expecting to have conversations on the matter with Sox officials when he gets to Fort Myers.
When he arrived at Winter Haven 50 years ago this month, young Carl Yastrzemski — signed by the Red Sox out of Notre Dame in 1958 — already had won a batting title, but he’d never hit more than 20 homers in a season. He was optimistic about improving his power numbers because he’d been able to work with trainer Gene Berde at the Colonial Resort in Wakefield during the offseason.
“It was the first chance I had to do that,’’ recalled Yastrzemski. “I had gone back to Notre Dame for four years after my freshman year to pick up credits and take subjects. I didn’t transfer to Merrimack until 1966, so that’s when I had the time to work out.
“I didn’t do weights at all. The only weight work I did after those workouts was to swing a bat. The workout was a lot of climbing ropes, swinging on bars, jumping rope, twisting exercises, and things of that sort. It added to my power. Without any doubt. I could tell right away in spring training.’’
The Red Sox had finished under .500 in each of Yastrzemski’s first six seasons. Things changed in ’67. They were only six games out of first place at the All-Star break, then rode a 10-game winning streak that ignited the town.
“I know it changed a whole atmosphere in Boston and brought fans back to the Red Sox,’’ said Yaz. “My first six years there, it was tough. You look and you get seven or eight thousand people on a Friday night or Saturday or Sunday. They weren’t looking for a team effort at that time, they were looking at what you did individually because the teams were so bad. It’s easy to play when you’re in a pennant race.
“I really don’t remember the start of the ’67 season too much. I remember from that great road trip on, when we got ourselves back in the race. It rejuvenated baseball in New England. I was just so happy to see the fans back at Fenway Park and cheering for the team. That was the main thing for me after going through six years of being last or next-to-last with no hope. The ’67 season gave the fans hope and it also gave the team hope for the future.’’
He doesn’t spend his days watching old videos or thumbing through crumbling magazines and books celebrating his Triple Crown season. Like Sandy Koufax, Yaz is not one to relive his glory days.
“I don’t even think about it,’’ he said. “That was 50 years ago. That’s a long time ago.’’
But indulge us a little this year, OK? Folks just love talking about the ’67 Red Sox. It was a very big deal for them.
“It was a big deal to me at the time, too,’’ Yaz said.
“But that’s a long time ago. I had black hair then. Not anymore.’’
It’s OK, Yaz. We all look a little different than we looked 50 years ago. But even a half-century later, the memory of the ’67 Red Sox never gets old.
Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at dshaughnessy@globe.com. Follow him on Twitter @Dan_Shaughnessy
