Witt Isn’t Perfect, but Darn Close

BOSTON —  It’s not that the Red Sox took the Angels lightly Tuesday night.

Wade Boggs, for instance, went to his “A” pregame meal, barbecued chicken. The ultra-superstitious Boggs had four four-hit nights this season after eating barbecued chicken. But baseball’s leading hitter managed one infield single. Maybe next time he’ll try extra-crispy.

Boggs wasn’t the only frustrated Red Sox player. Fenway Park is the tiniest ballpark in the major leagues, but the Sox managed to get lost in it Tuesday night.

Attention, search party: Somebody look in Mike Witt’s shadow.

The 6-foot 7-inch Angel pitcher stood taller than the Green Monster Tuesday night, opening the American League Championship Series with a five-hitter in an 8-1 win.

“Just one win,” was the postgame theme in both locker rooms, but don’t believe it. Witt beat Cy Young, the Green Monster, the 10th man (Boston’s rabid fans), the betting odds, the cold weather, Boggs’ best chicken dish and the rumor that Witt wasn’t quite the pitcher he was a month ago.

He embarrassed the socks off the Sox. Three of the Boston hits were infield jobs, one was a bloop.

If the meek shall inherit the Earth, you can direct the delivery boy to the Red Sox’s clubhouse.

How bad was it? Even the famed Fenway fans were intimidated. They were deserting in large numbers before the Sox’s last at-bat, in a ballpark where--as legend and cliche have it--no lead is ever safe.

More treasonous still, in the eighth inning the bleacher fans started batting around a large California-style beach ball. Appropriately, it was soon deflated.

Witt even won the game in a California style. After the first inning, Witt told fellow Angel pitcher Terry Forster he (Witt) was nervous.

“I’m sure he was,” said catcher Bob Boone, “but I expect him to channel that nervousness into positive energy.”

Like, hey, fer sure.

The bad news for the Sox is, Witt has room for improvement. When a newsman asked Boston Manager John McNamara, who once managed the Angels, if he had ever seen Witt better, McNamara leveled a laser-beam stare at the questioner.

“I saw him pitch a perfect game,” McNamara growled.

And Angel Manager Gene Mauch said: “He pitched three or four games in August even stronger than this.”

But this was Witt’s finest hour. This one topped his perfect game, thrown on the final day of the 1984 season. This was a for-real game, a playoff opener, not a season-ending semi-exhibition. Witt knew it. He could feel the spotlight.

“I was very excited for the game to start,” he said. “This was the first time in a game that I was a headline pitcher. I was excited from the first to the ninth inning like never before.”

Not that anybody but his closest friends and teammates would know. Witt is the Gary Cooper of pitchers, tall and cool and quiet.

He’s also Cooperesque in his postgame press conferences, often biting off his answers and spitting them out like chaws of tobacco.

He’s no great fan of the media, which is ironic, since, unless Witt reverts to something like his rookie form, the nation’s media will soon be extolling Mike Witt as the next World’s Greatest Pitcher.

Through 6 innings Tuesday he was. He faced the minimum number of batters and had a no-hitter. When he lost his no-no and his shutout, Witt didn’t lose his composure or control. Witt controlled the Sox.

He threw his breaking ball over the plate when he was behind in the count, and he threw the fastball when they were looking curve.

“There was nobody in their (Boston’s) lineup who was absolutely sure what they were gonna get to hit,” Mauch said.

And Boone said: “He was consistently tough all night long. I expect him to do that every time out. He hasn’t won his last few times out, but he has been effective.”

The Red Sox, true to their postgame interview character, didn’t gush much over Witt.

“He was about the same as he always is,” Boggs said.

Was it tough to predict what he would throw in any given situation?

“I think Bob Boone is tough to predict,” Boggs said.

Dwight Evans blamed the home plate umpire, Larry Barnett.

“The umpire had a pretty wide plate tonight,” Evans said. “Any time a guy like Witt gets an extra four or five inches, see you later.

“And he (Barnett) squeezed our guy (Clemens). It’s not Witt’s fault. He pitched a fine game, but I thought Mr. Barnett had a wide plate, but not for them. I don’t understand how you can have two plates.”

That’s just one of the puzzling questions that will haunt the Red Sox going into today’s Game 2 of the best-of-seven match.

Can the Sox convert Tuesday’s negative energy into some good vibes, or even some legitimate base hits?

Will the beach ball be back? Will the fans?

Was it really just one game, or only a bad dream?

And: When the postseason awards are handed out, will the awarders be awarding the American League Cy Young Award to the league’s second-best pitcher?