Johnson was 22 years old in late 1941, having just completed his second season on the Red Sox. He had a 4.52 ERA (and 3.97 FIP), started 12 games and, in 93.1 innings, had fewer strikeouts (46) than he issued walks (51) or allowed earned runs (47). He enlisted in December 1941 and return to the team in 1946 and stayed until 1951, bearing the nickname the “smiling Swedish southpaw.” After his playing career, he’d return to work in the Red Sox’ front office and would stay for there for three decades. He is as much of a company man as they’ve had.

For his service Johnson was given the Silver and Bronze stars and commissioned as a lieutenant for his service in the war. He was specifically cited for a moment during the Battle of the Bulge in which an Allied jeep with sensitive radio equipment was damaged by enemy fire. Under a heavy barrage, he returned to the burning jeep and removed the equipment.

He also had nine wins in relief in 1948 to lead the league.

Williams was a different story. Being Ted Williams came with its own set of rules, to which he almost always successfully bent the universe. He refused military service at first and sued the draft board twice for the right to continue playing baseball until he enlisted in the Navy reserve in May 1942 and was commissioned as a Naval Aviator for the Marine Corps in May 1944. Of Williams’ military experiences, Richard Ben Cramer wrote in the historic, hilarious, profanity-laden “What Do You Think of Ted Williams Now?”:

Ted loved the service, its certainty and ease. He never had a problem with authority. It was drawing his own lines that gave him fits. He had his fears about the mathematics, navigation problems, and instrument work. But at Amherst College, where the Navy started training, he found his mind was able, and he was pleased. And he loved the feel of an airplane. He was good, right from the start. [There was coordination to it], and care: those were natural to him. And he was a constant student, always learnings in the air. But he was proudest of his gunnery, the way he could hold back until the last pass, then pour out the lead and shred the sleeve. That wasn’t study, that was art. He got his wings near the top of his class and signed on as an instructor in Pensacola, Florida. He was happy, and good at his job. Strangely, he was freer than before.

He wouldn’t see action, though. He arrived in Hawaii just as Japan surrendered in 1945, and would go back to the Red Sox and win the 1946 MVP after posting a 10.5 WAR season, his third in a row after 10+ win seasons in 1941 and 1942. He would continue to put up monster numbers until 1950, when he suffered a broken elbow just after North Korea invaded South Korea. In 1952, he played six games for the Red Sox, homering in his last at-bat (foreshadowing!) before heading off to war.

In Korea, Williams was a member of the fantastically named “Willing Lovers” squadron, and was given the intentionally grating nickname “Bush,” for Bush League, by superiors including future astronaut John Glenn. Williams probably hated it as much as he hated being hit by enemy fire three times and for being sent home for, of all things, a severe ear infection.

In 1952, Williams returned to the Sox and put up a 7.8 win season with which he probably wasn’t satisfied, either. He’d play, and play well, until 1960, when he homered his final at-bat, befitting what Cramer called one of the few men who try for best ever. If Williams was freer than he had been in years in the military, he was free of this obligation, for maybe the only time in his amazing life.

Whatever you think of Ted Williams now, if you think of him on Memorial Day, think of Earl Johnson, too. Free from the context of baseball, they’re both war heroes.

Photo by Greg M. Cooper/USA Today Sports Images

Wait, what?

At this point you must be wondering what I am prattling on about. Here it is directly: in the history of the Red Sox franchise, the first 20 games have represented a benchmark for season success. If the team played .500 baseball or better (10 or more wins), they have in some instances gone on to make the playoffs. But if they‘ve played worse than .500 ball (nine or fewer wins) the playoffs have consistently been out of reach.

The Red Sox are an 114-year-old franchise (established in 1901) that has enjoyed a reasonable amount of post-season success (22 playoff appearances). Yet, remarkably not one of those playoff appearances has come when the team started 9-11 or worse. Getting out to a below .500 record in the first 20 games has happened 46 times in Red Sox history. You’d think that at least one of those teams were unlucky or had a tough schedule in their first 20 games, but then played better over the course of the next 130-140 games and managed to secure a playoff appearance. Well, you’d be wrong. It has not happened. You can see for yourself here. For whatever reason getting a tenth win (in the first 20 games) has been crucial for this franchise. Oddly enough two of the 13 Red Sox squads that started 10-10 eventually went on to win the World Series (the 1903 and 1916 Red Sox).

The Red Sox are not necessarily a singular franchise when it comes to the overwhelming influence of the first 20 games on their playoff likelihood. The goose-egg oddity is true for four other franchises (three of whom are relatively new):

The data in the table are grouped by franchise. So 39 of the Baltimore Orioles seasons are actually St. Louis Browns seasons, and 14 of the Washington Nationals seasons are Montreal Expos seasons.

To more broadly see the trend between eventually making the playoffs and early season record, here is a figure showing the proportion of teams making the playoffs as a function of the number of wins they recorded in their first 20 games. For sample size reasons I excluded seasons in which teams had fewer than four wins, or more than 16 wins. Because we are really most interested in looking at the Red Sox, I have shown them separately in red.

As is evident, and should be to some extent expected, winning more games in the first 20 has led linearly to more playoff appearances. This is true for all teams, including the Red Sox. However, what is striking, and the reason for this discussion, is the jump for the Red Sox between the nine- and 10-win marks. Roughly 10% of the 337 nine-win non-Boston teams made the playoffs, while none of the Red Sox teams did. At 10 wins, roughly 12% of the 316 non-Boston teams made the playoffs, but four of the 13 Red Sox teams did (31%). Much of this result is just odd things happening in small samples, and it’s not uniquely predictive, but it is interesting nevertheless. And it’s a great way to justify that sinking feeling you get when the Red Sox are losing games early in the season! Historically, getting a couple of extra wins in the early going has been important for increasing the likelihood of making the playoffs, and especially so for the Red Sox.

For whatever reason getting a tenth win in the first 20 games has been crucial for this franchise.

All told, being one-game above .500 rather than one-game below .500 (just a separation of two wins) has meant a 10% difference in making the playoffs. Now, it must be said that there is likely nothing special about these first 20 games. If you checked all 20-game streaks in a season you would find the shocking result that being above .500 in those streaks more often than being below .500 leads to a better chance of making the playoffs. So we should continue to avoid overreacting to a team’s performance in the early going.

Regardless, it could be said that the 2015 Red Sox crossed an important hurdle on Friday night. Getting swept in Baltimore would have placed an ominous cloud over the season; a new curse needing to be broken if you will. But thanks in part to Brock Holt’s power stroke this team will finish no worse than 10-10 in their first 20, which means that, if history is any guide, they have at least some chance of making the playoffs this year.

We can all breathe a little easier.

Photo by Tommy Gilligan/USA Today Sports Image