Ross David - Teammate: my journey in baseball and a World Series for the ages

I f his story had been submitted as a Hollywood script, it would have been rejected immediately as too corny, too unlikely, too impossible to believe. An aging backup catcher, in the final year of his career, wins over an entire fan base with the force of his personality and helps mold a young team into the very best in baseball. He hits a home run in Game Seven of the World Series and gets carried off the field by his teammates, a retiring hero on top of the world. Impossible to believe? Perhaps, but not for those lucky enough to know David Ross.

I first got to know David in August 2008 at what was likely the nadir of his career. He had just been released by the Cincinnati Reds despite being in the middle of a multiyear contract. He was hitting just .231, but thats not the entire reason the Reds had decided to let David go. There were whispers out of Cincinnati that he was not a good teammatethat he was having a hard time accepting a diminished role and had become a bit of a headache for management. Others I trusted swore by David as a great guy and a really smart player, but the whispers grew louder and David was released.

At the time we were looking to add catching depth to a Red Sox roster that featured veteran backstops Jason Varitek and Kevin Cash and was on the way to its fifth postseason appearance in six years. We had traded Manny Ramirez for Jason Bay weeks earlier to improve the unity in the clubhouse and had a good, solid, talented, professional club. Comforted by those who vouched for him and in need of a veteran break glass in case of emergency third catcher, we ignored the whispers and signed David. In full candor, I didnt expect much from him. I thought he would catch a game or two over the remainder of the season, sit on the bench during the postseason, and move on to the next stop of his career without making much of an impression or impact.

Well, I was right on the first two points. David had just eight at-bats over the final six weeks of the regular season and none in the playoffs. But, man, was I wrong about David not making an impact. Despite being the new guy on the team, despite hardly playing, despite suffering through a tough season, David was adored by his teammates and somehow found his way into the middle of our clubhouse dynamic.

By the time the playoffs came around, he was respected enough that we invited him into our advance scouting meetings along with Varitek and Cash. Again, I didnt expect much from David. These are big, important meetings with the front office, manager Terry Francona, and the whole coaching staff. Typically, advance scout Dana LeVangie and Varitekboth expert in this rolewould take the lead breaking down opposing hitters, and pitching coach John Farrell, Tito, and a few of us in the front office would chime in. The third-string catcher was not usually present, let alone vocal. Except for David. He spoke up early and often, in a strong and authoritative voice, making insightful points about every opposing hitter. He wasnt afraid to disagree, even with Varitek, and quickly won over the room. By the third or fourth hitter we discussed, others were deferring to Ross, the backups backup who up until the last six weeks had spent his entire career in the other league.

That was impressive, I remember telling Assistant General Manager Jed Hoyer. We should keep an eye on him might make a good scout or coach when hes done playing. A couple of weeks later, the day after our demoralizing season-ending loss to the Tampa Bay Rays in Game Seven of the American League Championship Series, David and his teammates were cleaning out their lockers at Fenway Park. I asked to speak to him in private.

Look, David, you were terrific on this team; everyone loved having you around. I dont know exactly what went down in Cincinnati, but there are some things you should know. You were getting a bit of a bad reputation over therenot the greatest teammate, not accepting of your role, a bit of a pain in the ass for everybody. That doesnt sound like you, but it wasnt from just one person and I thought you would want to know. You can still do a lot of things on the field: you have power, you can hit left-handed pitching, you can catch and throw, you can break down hitters. You can play a long time, but you profile best as a backup at this point and you have to accept that. And that means being a great teammate and doing whatever is necessary to help the team win. Youre a free agent; I just thought you would want to hear whats being said about you. Thanks for what you did for us.

And that was that. Ive had many similar conversations with other players over the years; it was nothing remarkable. I expected David to kick around as a backup for a few more years before retiring. Maybe then we would make the call to see if he was ready to try scouting or coaching. Yet again, I made the mistake of underestimating David Ross.

Six years later, I was looking for a catcher again. Besides that, everything had changed. I was in Chicago, not Boston, and we had just signed Jon Lester to help turn a young, talented team into a contender. David had spent four years as a prolific backup catcher with the Atlanta Braves, making real contributions as a fine two-way player and becoming one of manager Bobby Coxs go-to veteran leaders in the clubhouse. Then, in a two-year stint back with the Red Sox, he was at the epicenter of the band of bearded brothers who galvanized a region after the Boston Marathon Bombing and won the 2013 World Series. David only caught 36 games during the season, but, remarkably, his manager and his teammates demanded that he be on the field when things mattered most during the Fall Classic. David caught all four of Bostons wins in the World Series. By this point he was well established as a great teammate and leader, someone thoughtful about winning and willing to put in the work to make it happen. With Lesters urging, we signed David despite having two productive catchers on the roster.