On or off field, Varitek is still Red Sox' leader

May 1, 2010 | Providence Journal | By Brian MacPherson



BALTIMORE — Two hours remained until the final start Tim Wakefield would make before being sent to the Red Sox’ bullpen when the 43-year-old knuckleballer sat down in a seat that wasn’t his. He sat down in front of the locker belonging to John Lackey — and, more important, next to the locker belonging to Jason Varitek.


Varitek and Wakefield spent five minutes in quiet conversation, the catcher doing most of the talking and the knuckleballer doing most of the listening. It’s a safe guess, considering the awkward circumstances surrounding the start Wakefield was about to make, that they weren’t discussing politics or interior decorations.


A couple of days later in Toronto, a day after Terry Francona had pinch-hit for David Ortiz with the bases loaded, Ortiz was striding through the Red Sox’ clubhouse with music blaring in his headphones when Varitek extended a closed fist to him.


Ortiz met it with a fist of his own. No words were needed.


Ask Varitek about it, though, and you’ll find out that he’d be doing the same thing whether the Red Sox had named him team captain six years ago or not. Ortiz and Wakefield are enduring difficulties as tough as they’ve had in their careers. Varitek, as a veteran and a teammate, sees himself as having that responsibility, whether he’s the captain or not.


“I’m going to support my teammates,” he said. “Is that because the ‘C’ is on my jersey? It wouldn’t matter if it’s on my jersey or not. There’s different ways, whether you’re doing good or doing bad, that you have to communicate. Communication; sometimes it’s leaving a guy be. Sometimes it’s by example. Sometimes it’s letting them talk so you know what’s going on in the human being because we’re all human beings.”


Varitek paused, even getting a little animated, and gestured to some of the faces around the Camden Yards visitors’ clubhouse.


“I’m going to be there for my teammates, whether it be David, Wake, whether you’re doing good or bad, Clay (Buchholz), Manny (Delcarmen) or anybody else,” he said. “Everybody has different things you need to communicate about — even when they’re going good.”


Varitek, as expected, has seen a sharp reduction in his playing time this season because of the presence of Victor Martinez.


What no one around him has seen, though, is any reduction in his preparation for games or his value as a leader in the clubhouse. In a lot of ways, in fact, Varitek has more time to be a leader because he doesn’t have to catch every pitcher every day against every opposing lineup.


“You don’t have to be playing every day to be a leader,” first baseman Kevin Youkilis said. “It’s just showing that you care about your teammates and do whatever it takes to win ballgames or help guys get better or help guys get through tough times.”


Varitek’s devotion to being prepared, the trait that made him a leader even before the Red Sox put a 'C' on his jersey, certainly hasn’t diminished.


“Just because he’s not on the field every day, I don’t think he prepares less,” third baseman Mike Lowell said. “He’s in the weight room a lot more because he does have that time. That’s just the dedication and the professionalism he brings to himself and his position. All those things encompass being a leader.”


“You can see him on the plane and hours before the game sitting there with the scouting report, making notes on it, studying it,” reliever Daniel Bard said. “To have that, even now, if I’m up in the air on what pitch to go to, I can throw whatever he puts down with 100 percent conviction because I know the work that he puts in.”


Varitek has always had a quieter, more subtle approach to leadership than most. He’s probably more vocal in the pitchers’ meetings before each series than he is anywhere else. Even a frequent visitor to the Red Sox’ clubhouse might not peg him as the team captain with his nose invariably buried in a navy blue binder.


He even can come across as a little bit aloof to someone who hasn’t been around long enough to know better.


“Some guys might not feel comfortable, but I’ve known him for a long time, so I’m comfortable talking to him about stuff,” Youkilis said. “I know some guys can be intimidated. I know guys on other teams are intimidated just because he’s not really the most talkative guy. But he’s definitely a guy that, if guys need to talk, he’ll sit down and talk to you about stuff and break it down.”


In some ways, Varitek’s leadership is more important now than ever. The Red Sox are in an odd situation where their veterans, not their young players, are the ones needing either to talk things out or to get a “Hang in there” every once in a while.


Wakefield was sent ingloriously to the bullpen. Lowell lost his job at third base before the season began. Ortiz has seen his playing time dwindle more rapidly than he ever could have expected because of a .143 start this season.


Of all the veterans whose playing time was expected to be reduced this season, Varitek might have the most substantial role. He hasn’t been the personal catcher for Josh Beckett like many expected — though he has, like many expected, caught virtually every Beckett start.


He’s caught seven of the first 22 Red Sox games, and has even shown some pop with the bat, hitting four home runs to go along with a .323 batting average.


But his most substantial contribution remains what he can do in the clubhouse with a well-timed fist bump — or with the example he sets even when he’s not saying anything at all.


“He’s just a good teammate and a friend,” Lowell said. “I don’t think he seeks that out. If you see someone in the outfield during spring training, it’s, ‘Hey, how was your offseason?’ It’s in casual talk that sometimes you get the most out of where people are.”