As the few thousand loyalists who chose to stand and cheer their ex-center fielder struggled to drown out the negativity in this town, Damon turned, smiled, and removed his batting helmet.
It was a tip of the cap, and it was brilliant. It was such a graceful and dignified gesture, who would dare to boo after that? Not many. The grateful applause won out.
Maybe Johnny Damon isn't such an idiot after all.
''I was going to do it regardless," said Damon, in the aftermath of a 7-3 Yankees loss in which he went hitless. ''I heard more cheers than jeers.
''There were a lot of great fans who remember me during my time here. They just hate to see players go somewhere else. They go through it year after year. I'm not the first player to leave Boston for the Yankees, and I'm not the last."
Damon's popularity here centered on his ability to not allow the little things to gnaw at him. That's why he was the embodiment of the 2004 Boston Red Sox. A different kind of cult figure would have been distraught at a 3-0 deficit against the hated Yankees in the American League Championship Series, particularly one who was 1 for 13 at the plate at the time.
Damon merely shrugged, accepted blame for his performance, and predicted his team would win four straight.
''He and [Mark] Bellhorn were struggling so bad I couldn't sleep at night," recalled hitting coach Ron Jackson. ''I kept thinking to myself, 'If I can't get these two guys going, we don't have a chance.' But Johnny wasn't worried. He just kept putting in the time, working on the swing. He kept saying, 'It's going to come.' "
Damon was a horrific 3 for 29 (.103) with one measly RBI by the time the Red Sox forced Game 7 in 2004. Do you remember what the man they now call ''Johnny Demon" did? He went 3 for 6 with two home runs (one a grand slam) and 6 RBIs. The rest is history, and No. 18 played no small part in bringing this city its first baseball championship in 86 years.
No wonder New York manager Joe Torre questioned the reception Damon received last night.
