The news that Xander Bogaerts wouldn't be returning to the Red Sox broke after just after midnight late Wednesday evening. For Red Sox fans who had been encouraged by the morning signing of closer Kenley Jansen and the early evening news that the Sox had landed Japanese outfielder Masatake Yoshida, the news stung and more than wiped out any goodwill the organization had earned with the two previous moves.
The development had a ring of familiarity to it, too. Less than three years ago, another homegrown All-Star, Mookie Betts, was dealt away, with the team unable to secure him to a contract extension.
Some Red Sox fans had hoped that the loss of Betts was an unfortunate one-off, but now that the same scenario has played out again, it's hard not to draw a line between the two events, and harder still to come away with any conclusion other than this: the Red Sox are no longer committed to retaining their own best players.
There's precedent for that, too -- with a different set of players, and owners, too. And Red Sox fans should surely hope that history is not about to repeat itself.
In the early 1980s, the Red Sox suffered similarly crushing losses. In the span of just over two months, the Red Sox lost Rick Burelson, Fred Lynn and Carlton Fisk. Fisk would go on to enjoy a Hall of Fame career, and Lynn perhaps would have been on a similar track to Cooperstown had he remained in Fenway, a ballpark perfectly suited to his strengths. Burleson was not of that caliber, but he enjoyed a fine career and was selected to multiple All-Star games.
Free agency was relatively new, having been ushered in in 1976, and Red Sox ownership found the whole concept onerous. Suddenly, players had the right to determine where they would play and exert leverage when it came to their salary, and Haywood Sullivan, whose professional career in the game began in 1952, this newfound shift of power was an anathema. So Sullivan, convinced that Burleson and Lynn would soon depart via free agency, traded them, satisfied to get some value rather than none at all if they walked.
The Fisk situation was more complicated. The club's inability to tender a contract on time resulted in a judge making Fisk a free agent. The native New Englander, acknowledged as perhaps the greatest catcher in Red Sox history, would spend the final 13 years of his career on the south side of Chicago.
Predictably, the loss of such talent in one offseason had a calamitous effect. From 1981 through 1985, the Red Sox had a fallow period, finishing third in the AL East once, fourth another time, fifth two times and sixth on another occasion. Not until 1986, by which time the minor league system had produced a new crop of stars, did the team become competitive again.
Which isn't to necessarily suggest that the present-day Red Sox are about to enter into a similar downturn. But in the wake of Bogaerts' defection, it's can be denied that the team's brand has taken a major hit. At the recent winter meetings, executives and agents expressed bewilderment over the organization's actions and questioned their roster-building strategy.
After Fisk, Lynn et al left town, the Red Sox battled to remain relevant, and were overtaken by the Celtics as the dominant team in the market. Fans fretted about the wisdom of attaching themselves to young players, who might also soon see their careers in Boston end over salary disputes.
That could be where the current Red Sox find themselves. The fan backlash -- to the degree that such a thing can be quantified on talk radio and social media -- was predictably fierce.
Yes, there's still three and a half months before the 2023 season begins, and as Wednesday demonstrated -- before it all came apart soon after midnight -- a few judicious moves can go a long way in assuaging the fan base. But the loss of Bogaerts isn't about finding a replacement at shortstop; it's about an emerging and undeniable pattern: the Red Sox aren't interested in doing what it takes to retain popular and identifiable star players.
Now that the trust is broken with the fans, it will take some time to earn it back. Betts could have been an aberration, but this week would seem to prove that his wasn't an isolated case. Bogaerts leaving for the Padres -- for five additional years and $120 million more in salary -- all but confirmed that.
It's worth noting, too, that this week alone, ownership in two other markets* stepped up: once to retain a superstar with one foot out the door, and once to capture an in-demand free agent.
Yankee owner Hal Steinbrenner, **premium***on vacation in Italy, took control of talks with Aaron Judge, who seemed close to leaving the Bronx for the San Francisco Giants. Steinbrenner, who had monitored the talks from afar, intervened and agreed to match the Giants' offer, giving Judge a nine-year, $360 million contract, making the outfielder the highest-paid position player in the game.
Meanwhile, in Philadelphia, owner John Middleton helped close the pursuit of shortstop Trea Turner. Talks had reached an impasse, and Dave Dombrowski, having offered $285 million over 11 seasons, was wondering whether he should accede to Turner's agents' demand for $300 million. Middleton asked Dombrowski if Turner was a difference-maker. Dombrowski responded by saying he viewed Turner as one of the Top 10 players in the game.
Middleton then approved the extra expenditure, noting that he didn't want to lose out on a player over $15 million.
Current Red Sox ownership once operated that way. Now, they're instead inviting comparisons to a forgettable time in Red Sox history, when players left and the fans lost.