Sox credit faith for inner strength

Associated Press by John Patriquin

Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek says, "I'm further along in my faith and I'm trying to take steps to be a better Christian. But that doesn't mean you can't be a competitor."

Staff photo by John Patriquin

Red Sox pitcher Curt Schilling warms up on the mound during spring training in Fort Myers, Fla. "God did something amazing for me," he said of his performance to beat the Yankees in Game 6 of the ALCS last October - with his ankle stitched.

After Curt Schilling's remarkable pitching performance to beat the New York Yankees in Game 6 of the American League Championship Series, he was asked how he did it.

Before Schilling would talk about the sutures that stabilized his loose ankle tendon, or about his pitch selection, he began with a speech that gave credit to one source: God.

In the interview room at Yankee Stadium, shoulders dropped and impassive looks took over. Schilling, a Christian, appeared to be giving one of those standard "I first want to thank God" introductions.

Mostly, Schilling's spiritual comments were ignored. Some criticized him later. A columnist from Windsor, Ontario, Bob Duff, wrote after the Red Sox won the World Series: "Does that mean Boston was successful because St. Louis didn't pray hard enough?" His column was headlined: "Schilling Trivializes Religion."

The popular name for the Red Sox is "idiots," a term used by outfielder Johnny Damon in describing his loose teammates who were immune to pressure. Damon's characterization started a craze, complete with T-shirts and bumper stickers. What a fun idea: a group of baseball players calling themselves idiots.

"No, no, no," Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek corrected, smiling and holding up an index finger. "That came from one player."

Varitek said there is a another description for many in the clubhouse. "There are a lot of spiritual guys here," he said.

Spiritual guys? The phrase does not roll off the tongue like "idiots," and its marketing potential may be limited. But it is a fact.

In the Disney movie "Angels in the Outfield," the California Angels (with Danny Glover as the manager) are helped by angels of the heavenly origin, answering a boy's prayer that the Angels win the pennant, in hopes that his estranged father will come back to him.

The cherubs dictate the outcome of the games, helping the Angels record sensational catches, unlikely hits and ultra-fast fastballs, while interfering with the opposing teams - all in the name of heaven.

Although it was a movie, there are real-life cases of players praying for the outcome of a game. In Super Bowl XXV, when Buffalo kicker Scott Norwood lined up for the game-deciding field goal, players from both teams were kneeling in prayer on the sidelines.

Norwood missed. The New York Giants must have slipped their prayers in ahead of the Bills.

But do athletes believe God can directly determine the outcome of games? In the 1990s, San Francisco Giants first baseman Will Clark reportedly approached one of his own pitchers. The pitcher had given up a home run and later said it was "God's will." Clark, also a Christian, commended him for his faith, but corrected him. "The Lord didn't hang that slider," Clark reportedly said.

New Red Sox pitcher Matt Clement knows the hanging sliders are his own doing. He prays to God, but not for breaking balls painting the outside corner.

"There are probably a handful of people who pray and think the Lord is going to help them hit home runs," Clement said. "To me, it's much deeper than that."

Before Clement signed with Boston this past off-season, he called Red Sox third baseman Bill Mueller, once a teammate with the Cubs. Clement wanted to know about the clubhouse atmosphere. The spiritual nature of the players "was one of the things Bill mentioned that appealed to me," Clement said.

"That's the wrong way to look at it," Clement said. "I'm praying for strength and wisdom, not to let Him down, by preparing and using the gift He gave me."

In Schilling's interview after Game 6 of the ALCS last year, he spoke in a similar vein.

"Seven years ago, I became a Christian," Schilling began that night, "and tonight, God did something amazing for me. . . . I knew I wasn't going to be able to do this alone. And I prayed as hard as I could.

"I didn't pray to get a win or to make great pitches. I just prayed for the strength to go out there tonight and compete, and He gave me that."

Two weeks ago, at the start of spring training in Fort Myers, Fla., Schilling recalled that night when he was not sure his ankle would hold up. Schilling, admittedly a strong-willed man, said he was scared nonetheless.

"I knew I was at the end of my rope," he said, sitting in front of his locker in Fort Myers. "My prayer was for the Lord to take it, to allow me to go out there, unburdened. . . . I've experienced a lot of changes in my faith, and that was a big night for me."

When Schilling spoke of his faith after that game, one reporter who did not edit Schilling's comments was Peter Gammons of ESPN. Gammons has heard plenty of those "I-thank-God" introductions, but he knew Schilling was not just giving a line.

"He said it differently," Gammons remembered. "Some guys don't mean to, but they make it sound as if God is cheering for them.

"I thought 'Schill' really defined what it is to be a Christian. You're not asking God to pick you over the other guy. You ask Him for the strength to go out and do whatever you can."

Varitek said he follows advice he heard from Braves pitcher John Smoltz: "When you realize you have an audience of one, it makes your life a lot easier."

When the U.S. women's soccer team won the World Cup in 1999, a Sports Illustrated article described midfielder Michelle Akers as "though a devout Christian, she plays the game with a vengeance." The implication was that Christians normally do not play aggressively.

Former basketball star Hakeem Olajuwon, a devout Muslim, has often explained his faith, saying, "Sometimes, people have the wrong impression of what religion is supposed to be. . . . It isn't a sign you are weak. That's strength."

When Minnesota Twins third baseman Gary Gaetti's statistics began to decline in the late 1980s, some suggested his newfound faith weakened his desire to play.

"Since I became a Christian, my numbers have gone up, so we can change that (perception)," Varitek said. "I'm further along in my faith and I'm trying to take steps to be a better Christian. But that doesn't mean you can't be a competitor.

"Once someone thinks someone is a Christian, all of a sudden, it makes them passive. I'm a Christian and proud of it, and I know I'm not passive."

Varitek was involved in a "non-passive" moment last July. When the Yankees' Alex Rodriguez barked at Boston pitcher Bronson Arroyo after being hit by a pitch, Varitek intervened and a scuffle ensued.

Varitek's aggressiveness is one reason he has long been considered the Red Sox leader, and was recently named team captain.

Outfielder Trot Nixon is also considered a leader, on the field, in the clubhouse and during Bible study groups. He has passed out copies of the popular book "The Purpose-Driven Life." Nixon has also been known to throw a batting helmet or two.

"I'm not a very passive person," Nixon said. "The knock on (Christians) is that they have to be passive. God makes everyone unique, different."

Rather than interfering with his desire to play, Nixon credits his faith for making him more focused.

"When I was in the minor leagues, coming up, I was over-emotional about everything," he said. "(My faith) helps me put things in perspective. I don't let things get to me as much."

Schilling said that when he took the mound in Yankee Stadium for Game 6 last October, with 50,000 fans booing him and his ankle stitched together, he never felt so calm.

"It was such a peaceful feeling out there," Schilling said. "When you think about the environment, it sounds anything but peaceful. But I was relaxed. I was able to focus."

Although players say religion helps them, it can make matters uncomfortable for a team. Gaetti's extreme conversion in 1988 brought divisiveness to the clubhouse. The Twins third baseman went from partying to proselytizing, and some teammates openly resented it.

In the Red Sox clubhouse, there are visible signs of religion. Reliever Mike Timlin often walks in with a T-shirt bearing a Christian saying, but it does not appear to be an effort to convert teammates.

"Everyone in that clubhouse really respects each other as individuals," said Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein. "No one is going to force philosophy or anything else down anyone's throat."

Clement said religion can be "a touchy subject. . . . It's a personal relationship you have."

Yes, Clement was pleased to hear from Mueller that many of his new teammates shared his faith. But Clement quickly points out that he was not simply looking for chapel partners when he signed with the Red Sox.

While there is faith among the Red Sox, there are no claims that God delivered the World Series title to Boston in 2004. God did not will Varitek to hit that two-run triple in Game 2, or for Trot Nixon to stroke those three doubles in Game 4, though both will say that God gave them the opportunity and the ability to do it.

And no angels made the Cardinals miss those Schilling fastballs. The Red Sox won the World Series on the field.

Just a bunch of idiots, we are told. But a group of those idiots have another identification.

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