'Honey, you can blame them'.

PositionSports

BOSTON -- It was like getting a stolen sign for a fastball down the middle, waist high, with no movement. A guaranteed home run, or as close to it as it'll will ever come.

Instead of a David Ortiz home run, though, it was a Mark Bellhorn swing-and-miss. My chance to get even with Bernie Carbo and Bill Lee is gone, and probably forever.

They were at the head table with me Thursday night in Boston at the annual baseball writers dinner, both representing the 1975 Red Sox on the 40th anniversary of that team's American League pennant and epic World Series battle with the Reds.

Which is where the revenge factor comes in.

Lee and Carbo, and the rest of that team in general, ruined my honeymoon.

My wife Debbie and I were married on Oct. 11, 1975. That was Game 1 of the '75 World Series. These days, with the Red Sox making frequent appearances in the playoffs and occasional triumphant appearances in the World Series, nobody around here schedules much of importance for October, just in case.

Back in the '70s, people got married more often that the Red Sox won the pennant. Boston had appeared in a World Series once in 27 years by the spring of '75, so when we made our plans, there were many things to consider, but the Sox in the postseason was not one of them. October 11 sounded great.

Beyond that, there was the reality of those '75 Red Sox. In 1974, they had a seven-game lead in the AL East on Aug. 23, but finished third, seven games behind the Orioles. It was arguably the biggest fold in franchise history. The next year, they opened the season with Carlton Fisk on the disabled list and with a roster that seemed too dependent on a pair of unproven rookies, Fred Lynn and Jim Rice.

Which brings us to October.

Fisk came back and was great. Lynn and Rice were great all year. Lee was great. Carbo was great in a reserve role. Boston ran away with the AL East and swept Oakland in the ALCS. The World Series was scheduled to open at Fenway Park on Oct. 11.

We woke up, and it was pouring in Whitinsville. Thank goodness -- no game in weather like this, no distraction. Except, it wasn't like that in Boston. It was damp, but not postponement damp. They played the game. We did the wedding.

We knew the game might be a problem when the priest, a baseball fan, pronounced us "DH and wife.''

Our reception was at the Progressive Club in Uxbridge. The game was on the TV in the bar downstairs. We had to clink our own glasses. I joke that my wife threw the bouquet, and it...

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