HR #50

A SAD END TO A RECORD SEASON
David Ortiz ties Jimmy Foxx
with his 50th HR

September 20, 2006 ... Just a single raised fist, rounding first base, accompanied David Ortiz on his historic run. Just that fist, up for no more than a second, before he made his solitary way around second, around third, across home. Though, it seemed apparent, as the crowd of 36,484 stood up to witness home run No. 50 that would tie Jimmie Foxx, they would have loved to have been running the bases with him.

They stood, as the ball from the hand of Boof Bonser what a name for that footnote lifted off Ortiz's bat with two outs in the sixth inning, a home run that in its flight, in its landing in the center field seats to the right of the yellow line, did more than equal a Red Sox record. It did exactly what it should have, breaking a 1-1 tie, though the Twins went on to an 8-2 victory.

They stood, and his teammates stood. They clapped, and his teammates clapped. And, after getting congratulations from every player in the Red Sox dugout, out he climbed again to the cheers and the chants ("MVP! MVP!"). To acknowledge the rest of the standing ovation, to acknowledge "Simply the best," the song blaring out of the Fenway PA system, to acknowledge that his beautiful, arcing shot, had done something that no one in a Red Sox uniform had done since 1938.

Ortiz became the 13th American League player to hit 50 home runs in a season, and the first since Alex Rodriguez (57 with the Rangers) and Jim Thome (52 with the Indians) did it in 2002.

It was a subdued celebration, old-fashioned and quaint, except for the number 50 flashing repeatedly on the video screens in center field. Just the enjoyment of a man who has grown to be loved, just an acknowledgement of greatness. Because that is what David Ortiz has become.

It didn't matter that the bullpen collapsed, led by Craig Hansen and the three-run home run by Torii Hunter in the eighth inning. It didn't matter that the Red Sox were officially eliminated in the American League East race. It didn't even matter that, to the boos of the crowd, Dennys Reyes carefully walked Ortiz on four pitches in his final at-bat, in the eighth inning.

All that mattered was Ortiz. As he ran around the bases, as he touched home plate, Ortiz said he thought about the people who had attended a pregame fund-raiser, a photo session that required a $100 donation for a patient at Children's Hospital. He thought about how they had given, and asked for one thing in return. That home run.

Of course, the home run also made Schilling's night, in which he returned from the strained side muscle that had sidelined him for three weeks, no more than an opening act to the Big Papi show. Though the plan included limiting him to just 80 pitches, it took 103 for Schilling to leave, with that 1-1 tie on the scoreboard and Manny Delcarmen coming in to relieve.

Schilling contained the Twins, though he certainly didn't have his best stuff. He allowed a run in the first inning, on a double by Joe Mauer, followed by a single by Michael Cuddyer to right. And though he walked no one allowing his one run on seven hits, while getting three strikeouts, all on splitters Schilling went to three balls on seven of the 22 hitters he faced.

The night, in the end, will be remembered for one thing. It will be remembered for a majestic shot to center field, unmistakably headed high and deep and gone. It will be remembered for reaching hands, lifting toward the sky and the baseball.

It will be remembered for David Ortiz. For Jimmie Foxx. For 50.