Since the trade of Ramirez in 2008, the Red Sox have had a rotating cast of mediocrity at what has traditionally been the bedrock of the Red Sox offense. From 2009- 2016, Jason Bay, Daniel Nava, Carl Crawford, Johnny Gomes, Hanley Ramirez, Chris Young, and Brock Holt have been the only players with over 50 games played at the position in a given year during those seasons. Aside from Bay in 2009 and the highly productive 2013 platoon of Nava and Gomes (25 HR and 118 RBI!), the production has left the team wanting.

This hasn’t always been the case though and I think it’s fair to argue that from 1940-2008 no team in baseball has had a more productive position than left field has been for the Boston Red Sox. During that 68-year span, the team has had just six left fielders (min. 50 games per year) with three or more seasons at the position. To put that in perspective, over the same time span, Boston has voted in a new mayor a mere seven times. The names are pretty stunning, so here they are along with their best single-season OPS:

This is obviously a slight oversimplification, but these six men represent a nearly unbroken line at the position. There were a few exceptions: from 1943-45 and from 1952-53, Ted Williams missed time due to being a war hero in WWII and Korea. In 1964, the Red Sox experimented by putting Tony Conigliaro in left and Yaz in center field before switching back the following year. In 1973, Tommy Harper took over left field from Yaz before splitting time with Yaz in 1974, and then being traded to the Angels in the off-season. When Rice took over in 1975, he and Yaz continued to evenly split time until 1978. Yaz played less and less there until he retired in 1983. Mike “The Gator” Greenwell missed 1992 due to Tommy John surgery, and Wil Cordero bridged the gap between The Gator and O’Leary in 1997.

The fact that we can sum up 68 years of baseball at a single position on the team in just a few bullet points and a single paragraph shows just how special the string of Red Sox left fielders have been.

 

The fact that we can sum up 68 years of baseball at a single position on the team in just a few bullet points and a single paragraph shows just how special the string of Red Sox left fielders have been. Williams played for 19 years and is considered a top-three hitter of all time. Yaz played for 23 seasons, amassing a career WARP of 99.4 before retiring as arguably the most iconic Red Sox player of all time. Rice wasn’t as accomplished as Williams and Yaz, but still managed an MVP season in 1978 and eight All-Star appearances. At 24-years-old in 1988, The Gator posted one of the most under the radar great seasons in Red Sox history, generating a WARP of 7.5 while finishing second to Jose Canseco in the MVP vote due to his chemically aided 40-40 campaign – something Greenwell is still bitter about. O’Leary enjoyed his best seasons with Boston in LF, and Manny gave the Red Sox 2004 and 2007 along with some of the best offensive seasons in Fenway history.

Benintendi has a real chance to be the next guy to grab the job and never let it go, as he currently sports a nifty .864 OPS. This mark is better than all left-fielders 22-years-old and under aside from Boog Powell, Mike Trout, Albert Pujols, and Miguel Cabrera and better than Barry Bonds, Jim Rice, Yaz, and Rickey Henderson, to name a few. This is good company to be in. While he may not be a traditional slugger in the mold of Williams, Yaz, Rice, and Ramirez, years like Greenwell’s 1988 season – when he posted a .325/.416/.531 slash line – are within reach.

Many teams see left field as a place to hide players with defensive issues by rotating players in and out, but the Red Sox can consistently trot out a player with “future All-Star” written all over him. Time will tell, but I would bet on Benintendi manning left field and hitting in the middle of the order for a long time to come.

David Price’s mechanics have been a hot topic recently, and Clemens visited the NESN booth on Thursday night to weigh in on them. It was, sadly, wonderful. I’m not sure I’m ready to have Clemens back in my life, but maybe we’ve finally turned the corner. Is the Rogerssaince at hand? Will he be a regular presence in our lives, and our booth? And if so, can he take over for Steve Lyons?

Mike Cole’s NESN.com writeup of Clemens’s visit is all extremely good stuff, but here’s just one long example, on Price’s newly tilted delivery, and how his new alignment might help him deceive batters easily:

“You love that. He’s going to hide the ball. That’s what makes his ball explode and a hitter not to see his ball until extremely late. If you look, for example, if you find video of (Jake) Arrieta in Chicago right now, tremendous tilt, tremendous close on the ball, and you won’t see the ball come off his fingertips until late.” […]

“We’ve got guys in the league who throw extremely hard and the guys I play with, and (when I was playing) I’d run in the outfield the next day and I asked hitters why guys throwing 98 mph with a great hook (would get hit), but the guys say ‘We see the ball extremely well off them,’ because they’re not staying closed,” Clemens said. “That steering wheel’s not staying closed.”

The stats seem to indicate that keeping the steering wheel closed has been a problem. And it appears he’s been working on those mechanics:

A side-by-side of David Price’s windup from tonight and his last start. pic.twitter.com/88FhuukwJ0

— Joon Lee (@iamjoonlee) May 13, 2016

It would help explain why, exactly, Price has been allowing so much hard contact, a subject into which Tony Blengino delved last week on FanGraphs. His question was “Is It Time to Worry About David Price?” and to start with the last part first, here was his answer (basically, “no”):

We aren’t seeing the beginning of the end for Price. Take a step back — even with such horrible contact-management performance thus far in 2016, he’s still an above-average starting pitcher. He won’t ever, however, be a superior contact manager, and that will continue to keep him out of the game’s innermost circle of starting pitching elite. In fact, we may be watching his decline from a slightly above-average contact manager to a slightly below-average one, and from a 70-80 “tru” ERA- guy to an 80-90 one.

So how did we get here? Well, the good news is that we might not be here for long: While Price’s numbers are down, these things are still random enough, Blengino writes:

The big issue here is his unsightly line-drive rate, way up at 29.1%. The only surprise here is that two AL starters actually have higher liner rates allowed. This explains some, but not nearly all, of Price’s difficulties to date in 2016. The good news is that liner rates, unlike the other frequencies listed above, are quite variable from year to year for most pitchers. The bad news is that Price’s liner-rate percentile rank in 2015 was a similarly high 81. Price’s vulnerability to squared-up contact is becoming a thing.

And now for the LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR you point, the one that could keep you up at night:

Just 7.0% of all MLB fly balls have been at hit at 105 mph or harder this season. Of the flies allowed by Price, 16.7% have exceeded the 105-mph mark. That’s a problem, as hitters bat .920 AVG-.3.428 SLG on such fly balls.

Yikes. That’s scary. Hopefully a combination of Dustin Pedroia’s Jedi powers, a possible ball-hiding scheme and natural fluctuation, might solve, or help to solve, Price’s issue with hard-hit balls. On the bright side, there’s reason to think he might be the Price who was promised, as he’s turning up the propane:  

David Price hit a game-high 96 during his strikeout of Carlos Correa, his ninth whiff of the game. — Brian MacPherson (@brianmacp) May 13, 2016

Finally, there are two Price-centric reports I’d like to touch on, because they deserve a response. The first is from the Globe’s reliable Red Sox reporter Alex Speier, who made a natural comparison between CC Sabathia and David Price but framed it in a strange way. “CC Sabathia represents a cautionary tale and hope for David Price” is odd from start to finish.

I’m not sure why Sabathia would represent a “cautionary tale” for Price, because Sabathia has had a long and distinguished career, even on the Yankees. That leaves two ways to read it. The first is as a caution for Price not to get old. Great idea; tough in practice. The second — the area in which Sabathia actually presents a cautionary tale, albeit an uncommonly forthcoming one — is in the area of depression and alcohol abuse, and it’s clearly not what Speier was referring to. But it’s the only part that fits the bill.

Long story short: I’d be mostly cool if Price ended up like Sabathia.

This is, I hope, helpful nitpicking: Speier’s report was in the service of honesty and decency, and there’s no malice there. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about the ESPN E:60 segment about Price that aired this week. I watched it yesterday in search of Price news, not realizing that it was basically a recycled version of a 2008 piece for the same newsmagazine program, with new bits about Price’s antagonistic historical rivalry with the Sox and Big Papi grafted onto the beginning and end.

The piece made me sad, and that is largely the point. It is a puff piece and a tear jerker. It covers the deeply tragic story of the deaths of Price’s two childhood best friends, who died independently of each other, both in their early 20s, just as Price was nearing his big-league debut. It seems to have, understandably, messed Price up to the point of considering retirement, as this trailer implies.

The only problem is that it isn’t true. Price “almost” quit baseball, as the segment itself reports, “to work at McDonald’s” — a line Michael Smith implausibly takes at face value, or did in 2008 — because he was a homesick kid at college who cried on some phone calls home, which is singularly unremarkable but given the same treatment as the deaths of Price’s friends: the music, the foreboding, all of it. Don’t take my word for it: You can watch these terrible transitions for yourself here.

This is a bad segment, a manipulation of the real tragedy, and totally unnecessary. It is taking something bad and making it worse. In the words of Ray Smuckles, it is not your business to turn out a funeral. You’d think ESPN would have learned this exact lesson from its Dr. V debacle, but, as always, they’re counting on you simply not to think at all.

Photo by Bob DeChiara/USA Today Sports Images

In 1974, Rice made his major-league debut, starting just a few games at the end of the season, but by 1975 he had supplanted Carl Yastrzemski as the team’s starting left fielder and sometime designated hitter just in time for the team to peak into a long playoff run culminating in a World Series appearance. From the jump, Rice demonstrated the skills that would be his calling-card for the entirety of his career: power, contact ability, and fair outfield defense predicated on a powerful throwing arm.

Rice never got the chance to play in the post-season during the Sox’s 1975 run–he injured his wrist after being hit by a pitch at the end of the regular season–and naturally the Sox went on to lose a very close World Series. Then, Rice really began to establish himself in 1976, following his return the following season. While his .315 OBP and 25 homers were nothing to write home about–dear Mom, I’m Matt Kemp–it was a good start. The next three years, however, would be his personal performance peak. In ‘77, he powered up, kicking in 83 extra-base hits, including 39 homers and an accelerated .310 True Average. When you hear about his reputation as a “feared hitter,” this is why. By this point, Rice was fast, strong, and able to hit for average and power.

Then there was 1978, Rice’s MVP season. He deserved every accolade he received that year, posting a .370 OBP and .600 slugging percentage, inarguably the best hitter in the American League even after accounting for his playing time in friendly Fenway. His 46 home runs led baseball, and it would set the tone for expectations throughout the rest of his career. Though this kind of electric output would never quite be repeated (for one thing, he hit an astonishing 15 triples for the second consecutive season in addition to the rest of his extra-base hits, becoming the second player in AL history to lead the league in both 3B and HR), he would carry on this production into another season.

In 1979, Rice put up his third consecutive All-Star performance, and posted his third season with a True Average above .300–.325 to be exact. From a high-level perspective, he was just as productive offensively as he was in 1978, but the big-ticket numbers (home runs, RBI) dipped a bit from 1978. Teammate Fred Lynn was a far better overall player–Lynn was a superior hitter that year and a great defensive outfielder–but Rice was again one of the best players in the game … and just heading into his age-27 season.

While most players used to peak at 27, Rice settled into a three-year performance lull. Still an effective hitter, Rice’s overall production faded as his power diminished. Still able to hit for a near-.300 batting average, his slugging percentage wavered much closer to .500 than his previous three seasons near .600. He averaged about 22 homers per year over the next few seasons, and performed at a good-but-not great level when factoring his position and defense. He earned an All-Star nod in 1980, but slipped from the rolls over the next two seasons.

1983 was a bit of a comeback year. Rice hit 39 dingers for the third season in his career, and his .304 True Average was his highest by a fair margin since 1979. By BP’s WARP metric, this was the second-greatest season of his career, behind only his MVP campaign.

The next year was a disappointment, with Rice’s overall offensive performance just a bit better than league-average despite a solid 28 homers. His walk rate, never enormous, dipped considerably to 6.8%, which helped to lower his on-base percentage to his lowest numbers since his 1976 season. Between that, his decreased power, and remarkable 36 instances in which he grounded into a double play, Rice was no longer the MVP candidate of previous seasons, but rather a league-average left fielder capable of bopping the occasional dinger. Nevertheless, Rice was entrenched as a celebrity and All-Star, and still was a regular fixture in the mid-summer classic.

Over the next two years, his home run totals would slide, but Rice gently raised his walk rate and lowered his strikeout rate, improving his overall offensive performance each year. Perhaps he was adapting his play style to stay relevant. While ‘85 was similar to his ‘84 (2.1 WARP versus the previous 3.4), in 1986 he burst back out thanks to career highs in doubles (39), batting average (.324), and OBP (.384). Best of all, he finally had a chance to play in a World Series after missing the opportunity during his first go-round. Rice wasn’t remarkably effective, as he struck out 26% of the time, but he hit two homers and scored an impressive 14 runs, despite all the Ks. He’d end up third in American League MVP voting, losing out to teammate Roger Clemens.

Rice remained effective through that 1986 run, but after his age-33 season, things went downhill in a righteous hurry. Over his last three seasons (1987-89), Rice put up replacement-level performance, with slight positive WARP gains (0.3 in two years) balanced by a -0.6 WARP performance in his final season, 1989. During those last three seasons, Rice’s signature power all but disappeared–he posted a .395 slugging–and without it, sluggish defense and baserunning didn’t help his overall case. At the same time, the team was flush with outfield talent, as part-timer Dewey Evans was still hitting while Mike Greenwell and Ellis Burks were rising.

He retired after the 1989 season, taking a host of positions with the Red Sox organization since then. Among Sox players, Rice retired with a .502 slugging percentage, good for eighth all time among players with more than 2000 PA, and his 382 home runs are fourth in the team’s history.

So which ballplayer of the modern era does Rice most resemble? Allow me to offer up a comparison to a recent former Sox player: Yoenis Cespedes. When we adjust for era, Rice handily surpasses Cespedes’ best offensive seasons during his 1977-79 peak, but overall his .292 True Average is actually behind Cespedes’s .297 mark. While Cespedes is likely to see his overall production decline when he reaches the twilight of his career, the two men are notable for similar reasons: loads of power–Rice’s career .502 slugging is not markedly different than Cespedes’s .486, especially accounting for era–lack of selectivity, and dynamite throwing arms. It’s very unlikely that Cespedes has either the longevity or the peak of Rice, though he appears to be a superior defender, but the two are similar enough.

Currently in the Sox’s system, there doesn’t seem to be an offensive-minded outfielder that fits the Rice mold, especially given the team’s focus on well-rounded offensive skillsets with a balanced approach. Then again, if Rafael Devers finds himself growing out of third base and moving to the outfield, he could certainly end up with a similar profile to Jim Ed … especially if his 4.6 percent walk rate in 2015 hangs around.

But even if Devers does eventually pull off a convincing Rice impersonation, it’s important to remember just how long, consistent, and stellar of a career that Rice had in Boston. Not only was he a Red Sox for life, he carried on a baseball tradition that–like playing center field for the Yankees–carries the weight of history. Before Rice, there was Ted Williams and Carl Yastrzemski manning the turf under the Green Monster. After him, there was Mike Greenwell (and a few years of Wil Cordero and Troy O’Leary, but whatever) and Manny Ramirez. Holding any man to the expectations of Red Sox left fielder can be terrifying and daunting, just ask Hanley Ramirez, but Rice shouldered the burden of expectations with grace and unbelievable skill. He did everything his team could have asked of him, and more, over his 16 seasons in uniform.

Photo by Greg M. Cooper/USA Today Sports Images