FORT MYERS, FLA. – The home clubhouse at Fenway Park was never known as a welcoming place for working members of the visiting press. Plus, I don't think the Red Sox often had a reputation as being sweethearts toward New England's wordsmiths.
My first year on the Twins beat was in 1974, when the Red Sox finished third in the AL East at 84-78 and the Twins finished third in the AL West at 82-80. Jim Rice debuted with the Red Sox in mid-August and went 0-for-4 in two games vs. the Twins. Fred Lynn didn't arrive until September and didn't play against the Twins.
The next season Lynn and Rice became the greatest rookie combination of position players since the start of the expansion era (1961). Lynn batted .331 with 21 home runs and 105 RBI. Rice batted .309 with 22 home runs and 102 RBI.
The Red Sox went to the World Series and lost in seven games to Cincinnati's Big Red Machine. There was only first place on Rookie of the Year ballots, and Lynn received 23½ votes and split one with Rice.
The Twins first played the Red Sox on the last weekend of May at Met Stadium. In the weekend games, Lynn and Rice went 8-for-17 with three home runs, five RBI and Boston scored 23 runs. That became the norm when the Twins faced the Sox of Lynn and Rice.
One clear memory: Rather than jumping in and out of the batting cage, the Red Sox regulars would swing for five minutes. Watching Lynn and Rice pummel the wall, clear the wall, reach the bullpen in back-to-back BP was frightening.
Almost as fraught with danger as attempting to get a few quotes in the postgame clubhouse. Fairly soon, Rice specialized in dismissiveness and Lynn in condescension.
Maybe they were both claustrophobic in that clubhouse. Whatever the reason then, and through roster makeovers that followed, the Red Sox would have had a dynasty over the next quarter-century if there was an annual media vote for worst clubhouse vibe.