Quirk of fortune

Then the greatest living Red Sox reveals that for seven years, he never changed his red socks.

"I think I wore them from the start of '67 to '73," says Yaz, breaking out that infectious grin. "The red socks. They had a big hole in 'em and everything else, but I wouldn't change 'em. I kept wearing them and wearing them and wearing them."

Yaz, like most baseball players, is superstitious. "A little bit," he acknowledges.

But don't get the impression that the Impossible Dream started with some smelly socks.

"It's not like they have them nowadays," Yastrzemski says. "It was a stirrup sock. They were my outside socks; I don't know how many years I went without putting a new pair on. You wore white [sanitaries] underneath them."

Yaz says he also marked his shorts and sweat shirts. "You'd have a great day -- not a good day -- and you'd say, 'I'm not changing anything.'

"You'd wear the same sweat shirt, same shorts. I'd get a magic marker and make a little mark on them. Then after they got washed, I made sure I'd put those shorts on for the game. Then you'd go 0 for 4 and go with another. But the socks I kept for a long time. Long time."

Eccentricities abound The Red Sox have had plenty of superstitious players.

First baseman Dick Stuart -- known as "Dr. Strangeglove" -- used to get comfortable in the batter's box and then take his used gum out and toss it across the plate. Third baseman Wade Boggs made it into the Hall of Fame with a routine of eating chicken before every game, taking batting practice at exactly 5:17, and running wind sprints at exactly 7:17. He also took exactly 150 ground balls in practice and carved the Hebrew "chai" symbol in the dirt each time he stepped to the plate, even though he is not Jewish. Shortstop Nomar Garciaparra taught a whole generation of New England kids to tap their toes and adjust their batting gloves before they stepped in.