Nickname

For years many sources have listed the early Boston AL team as the "Pilgrims", but researcher Bill Nowlin has demonstrated that the name was barely used, if at all, at the time. The name Red Sox, chosen by owner John I. Taylor after the 1907 season, refers to the red hose in the team uniform beginning 1908. Actually, Sox was adopted by newspapers needing a headline-friendly form of Stockings, as "Stockings Win!" in large type would not fit on a page. The Spanish language media sometimes refers to the team as Medias Rojas for Red Stockings.
The name originated with the Cincinnati Red Stockings, 1867-1870 member of the pioneering National Association of Base Ball Players. Managed by Harry Wright, Cincinnati adopted a uniform with white knickers and red stockings, and earned the famous nickname, a year or two before hiring the first fully professional team in 1869. When the club folded after the 1870 season, Wright was hired to organize a new team in Boston, and he did, bringing three teammates and the "Red Stockings" nickname along (Most nicknames were then only nicknames, neither club names nor registered trademarks, so the migration was informal). The Boston Red Stockings won four championships in the five seasons of the new National Association, the first professional league.
Boston and a new Cincinnati club were charter members of the National League in 1876. Perhaps in deference to the Cincinnati history, many people reserved the "Red Stockings" nickname for that city with the Boston team commonly referred to as the "Red Caps" today. Other names were sometimes used before Boston officially adopted the nickname "Braves" in 1912; that club is now based in Atlanta.

In 1901, the upstart American League established a competing club in Boston. For seven seasons, the AL team wore dark blue stockings and had no official nickname. They were simply "Boston", "Bostonians" or "the Bostons"; or the "Americans" or "Boston Americans" as in "American Leaguers", Boston being a two-team city. Their 1901-1907 jerseys, both home and road, simply read "Boston", except for 1902 when they sported large letters "B" and "A" denoting "Boston" and "American." Newspaper writers of the time used other nicknames for the club, including "Somersets" (for owner Charles Somers), "Plymouth Rocks," "Beaneaters," and the "Collinsites" (for manager Jimmy Collins)"
The National League club, though seldom called the "Red Stockings" anymore, still wore red trim. In 1907, the National League club adopted an all-white uniform, and the American League team saw an opportunity. On December 18, 1907, Taylor announced that the club had officially adopted red as its new team color. The 1908 uniforms featured a large icon of a red stocking angling across the shirt front. For 1908, the National League club returned to wearing red trim, but the American League team finally had an official nickname, and would remain "The Red Sox" for good.
The name is often shortened to "Bosox" or "BoSox," a combination of "Boston" and "Sox" (similar to the "ChiSox" in Chicago or the minor league "PawSox" of Pawtucket). Sportswriters sometimes refer to the Red Sox as the Crimson Hose and the Olde Towne Team. However, most fans simply refer to the team as the "Sox" when the context is understood to mean Red Sox

News Hard Lesson One Player Won't Forget

When the Nats finished up last fall, Garrett Mock went home for his winter break to relax.
"Two weeks into it, and I'm twiddling my thumbs," he told me over the weekend.
So Mock became a coach. More specifically, a part-team fall-league baseball coach for a group of 14- to 16-year-old kids with the Columbia Angels, the prominent Houston area outfit that produced Mock, Josh Beckett and several other pros.
He made it to 20 games, during which his charges went 16-4, but he also established himself as an unorthodox skipper. "Definitely out of the box," as he put it.
For example, the whole giving out intricate signs thing? The kids were into it, and the more the better. Not for Mock.
"If we're gonna bunt, I'm gonna tell the kid, 'We're gonna bunt,' " Mock explained. "When I called pitches from the dugout, the catcher would look at me, I'd just say 'fastball.' . . . And I told kids, it doesn't matter if the guy knows you're throwing a fastball, it's a frickin' hard thing to do."
Mock also let his kids know they were there to win, that he wanted their results "to look like a stinkin' football score," but that they were expected to follow the rules of good sportsmanship. In one particular game, Mock's team went ahead by "two touchdowns and a field goal," as he put it, when one of his favorite players came to the plate and bunted for a hit. Not cool. Mock told the kid he would learn his lesson the hard way. I'll let him take over from here.
"So the next game started, and it was this Houston area all-star team. It was mostly juniors and seniors, kids that hadn't signed yet. So one of the guys that coached that team, I've known him for a long time, and I said, 'Hey, when this kid gets up to bat, I want y'all to put one right in his ribs, and I ain't kidding.' I was like, 'Just kind of give me one of these hand signs, let me know that this kid throws gas,' because I didn't want to bring him in when the kid throws 86 if you've got a kid that throws 91, you know?
"The first guy, he just threw cheese. The next kid throws harder than I do. He comes in, and I was like, 'Hey, grab a bat dude, you're gonna lead off this inning! Let's go, get on base!' " The kid went to the plate, saw the speed, and glanced nervously back at the dugout. Mock and the rest of his players were holding back laughter. The sitting duck backed away from the first pitch, and Mock told him to hold his ground.
"Next pitch, BOOM, right in his ribs," went the conclusion. "And I told him whenever you get hit make sure you look at the other coach of the team we just beat, I want you to go tip your hat to him, tell him you're sorry. So after the game I told his parents, I was like, 'Look, I don't want y'all to start suing me or doing whatever happens nowadays.' I was like, 'The kid needs to learn a lesson.' I said he's not gonna die today, he learned a lesson."
Which pretty much explains why I went into the non-lesson-learning professions. Great story, though

Joshua Patrick Beckett

Joshua Patrick Beckett was born in Spring, Texas, on May 15, 1980 Baseball was his life from the time he could walk. Josh's hometown fed his love of the sport. Baseball was like religion in the tiny Houston suburb, which has sent many players to college programs and the minor leagues. Three years before Josh was drafted by the Florida Marlins, a boyhood friend, Michael Marriott, was taken by the club in the fourth round.
As a kid, Josh idolized fellow Texans Ryan and Roger Clemens, and dreamed of following in their footsteps. In elementary school, he scribbled on a homemade card his ambition to play in the majors. His parents, John and Lynn, didn’t doubt he would fulfill his destiny. Nor did his brother, Jesse.
Josh showed at an early age that he was a special talent. A pitcher, outfielder and first baseman, he was the main attraction on the North 45 Little League All-Stars, one of Texas’s top teams. The squad remains a powerhouse today. Off the field, Josh was loose and laid-back. On it, he was cocky, competitive and ultra intense. When Josh entered his freshman year at Spring High School, he felt he was ready for the varsity. The youngster could bring it in the high 80s, and he also had a devastating circle change-up, which he learned after watching a Nolan Ryan video called “Field of Heat.” In Texas, however, hard throwers are as common as fire ants. With plenty of arms to spare, Lions coach Kenny Humphreys started the campaign with Josh on the JV. When the frosh ran into trouble in the classroom, he remained there all season long.
The following summer, puberty kicked in, and Josh sprouted several inches. With his growth spurt came an extra six or seven mph on his fastball. Suddenly he was more than your average pitching prospect. Everyone who saw him was immediately reminded of Kerry Wood, who had starred at Grand Prairie High School up in Arlington.
Josh thrived under the pressure of increased expectations. As a sophomore at Spring High, he went 9-3 and struck out 149 hitters. His legend was just beginning to grow.
Josh topped those numbers in his junior year, going 13-2 with a 0.39 ERA. Voted the Texas 5-A High School Player of the Year, he fanned 178 in 89 innings, allowing just 31 hits and 29 walks. His performance helped earn him the nickname, "Kid Heat." Some scouts claimed he’d be the top pick in the draft, sparking rumors that he was considering going pro a year shy of graduation. Josh, however, had no interest in becoming a test case for baseball. He let the world know he would spend his senior season in a Spring uniform.
A year later, Josh cemented his status as the nation’s No. 1 high school prospect with a lights-out senior campaign. Never lacking for confidence, he had the word "Phenom" stenciled on one of his jackets. He backed up his bravado with another scintillating campaign (10-1, 0.46 ERA, 155 Ks in 75.1 innings), and was selected by USA Today as the High School Pitcher of the Year. His year, however, ended on a shocking note when Round Rock High School beat him in the state playoffs. In the extra-inning affair, Josh surrendered a season-high four runs and nine hits.
That game gave Josh a glimpse of the pressure he could expect to face in the pros. Round Rock fans spent the evening riding him mercilessly. Josh’s father, stationed in his customary seat next to the Spring dugout, was startled by the abuse hurled at his son. Knowing one day the josh might be hearing it from 50,000 enemy fans, he was proud how well his boy handled himself