Mueller leaves an enduring mark with Sox

December 16, 2005|Dan Shaughnessy, Globe Columnist

He left quietly, which is the way it always was with Bill Mueller, the Sox' Stealth Star from 2003-05.

Mueller signed a two-year deal with the Dodgers Wednesday, ending one of the most amazing tenures of anyone who played baseball for the Red Sox.

Think about it. He played here almost every day for three years at a time when the Sox achieved popularity that bordered on religious fanaticism. He won a batting title for the Red Sox and played Gold Glove-caliber defense. He hit three home runs in a game. In a time when David Ortiz emerged as the Sox' greatest clutch hitter since Yaz, Mueller delivered two of the biggest hits in the history of the franchise. Oh, and does anybody remember that Mueller hit .429 when the Red Sox won their first World Series since World War I?

And yet, somehow, he did it all without anyone really noticing. When it

became official Mueller would no longer play for the Sox, it was barely news. One Boston paper devoted four paragraphs to the transaction and at least one local news station Wednesday night didn't bother to mention that Mueller had officially left. It was certainly not fodder for sports radio.

Amazing. How could anyone fly this far under the radar while playing a big role in the success of the Red Sox at a time like this? Let's face it; the Sox at this hour generate more conversation than anything else in New England. Even in December. And we're not just saying this because Daddy Globe is owned by The New York Times Co., which owns the infamous 17 percent of the ball club.

The Sox manage to make big news almost every day, even when they do nothing but turn the light on for Theo. They hire co-GMs. They shop Manny Ramírez. They bid against the Yankees to retain Johnny Damon. They trade for a 25-year-old former World Series hero. They trade their future star shortstop, then dump their incumbent shortstop. They have the appearance of conflict at the top. They open the ticket windows and folks line up as if somebody was giving out free scratch tickets.

Meanwhile, fans wonder if Nomar will play for the Yankees or if maybe the Rocket will come back to Boston. They fret about losing the only man in the world who can catch Tim Wakefield's knuckleball. They wait, wait, wait (A Nation Held Hostage: Day 46) . . . for Theo to bring back the days of Camelot.

And, somehow, Bill Mueller leaves and it's not news.