Oki!

Over the course of an entire season, 162 games, plus the fourteen the Sox played in the post-season, it’s hard to say that any one player made the difference. Subtract any one of a number of guys from the summer’s games, and you can envision a different outcome for the season. Where would the Sox have been without Beckett, or Lowell, or Papelbon? But if one player seemed to make a difference that hadn’t been anticipated, that no one had expected last April, it had to be Okajima, who came to Boston with no fanfare; who was reportedly signed just to keep Dice-K from getting too homesick; and who flew into Fenway entirely under the radar screen.

Same is true for the post-season. Any one of a number of moments can be singled out, pointed to as having made a difference, having made the difference: Drew’s grand slam; Pedroia’s huge Game Seven; Beckett’s dominant performances; Manny’s walk-off. Subtract any one, especially those from the ALCS, and perhaps there is a different outcome in October. But if I’m going to pick out a single post-season performance, which carried the Sox to their second championship in the last four seasons – and a performance that seemed to capture the entire 2007 season – I’m selecting Okajima’s relief appearance in Game Two.

Schilling looked good from the second through the fifth innings, and had only allowed the Rockies a single run, but in the meantime, the Sox had only put two on the board. So when Schill walked Helton after Holliday had singled with one out, that put the tying run in scoring position, and the winning run on base. Enter Okajima. It was the sixth inning, only one out, as early as he had entered any game all season. And as critical a moment as he had faced all season, because there was absolutely no margin for error. A hit, almost any hit, would tie the game. And if the Rockies won, they would steal home field advantage, and head west with the sense that the Sox could be beaten. Beyond that, it was the first time a Japanese pitcher had thrown in the World Series, ever.

Between then, and the top of the eighth, Oki faced seven Rockies. He retired all seven. Four of the seven, including the final three he faced, struck out. The three batters who made contact hit into two ground outs, and a weak ass pop fly to right. No one laid a glove on Oki in Game Two; he was untouchable. He threw only twenty-eight pitches. Two-and-one-third innings, as long an outing as he had all year. (In fact, only twice all year had Okajima pitched for two innings.) By the eighth inning, as he struck out Tavares, and his countryman, Matsui, all of Fenway was chanting: Oki! Oki! Can you imagine how that played in Japan?

In the end, Pap gave up a single to Holliday, but then picked him off; and then he retired the side in the ninth, giving the Sox a 2-1 win, a 2-0 lead in the series, and the confidence that they could win games with their bats, or with their pitching. It wasn’t quite over yet, and I give the Rockies props for battling in Games Three and Four. Still, because of Okajima’s seven outs, the Sox were on the verge of another championship.

I know, who cares? And the answer this time is, everyone in Sox nation, as well as the nation of Japan.