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A year after taking over, Henry and his CEO, Larry Lucchino, handed the team's reins to Epstein, the then 28-year-old assistant general manager. A Yalie who had grown up a mile from Fenway, Epstein was a data freak who did a sabermetric analysis on everyone in spikes. By the time he was finished dealing, Epstein had replaced 16 of Boston's 25 players. Before the 2004 season, he tried to pull off a stunning coup by bringing superstar shortstop Alex Rodriguez to Beantown. The deal fell apart, and Rodriguez eventually landed in New York. But Epstein had other gems in sight. He splashed out $24 million for a much-needed closer, Keith Foulke, after landing the incomparable Schilling, a certified Yankee killer. The additions gave the Red Sox a lineup that was perfectly balanced on the field--and refreshingly off-center in the clubhouse.
In Ortiz, Epstein acquired a perfect clubhouse presence. Dissatisfied with his work ethic and production, the Minnesota Twins cut Papi, as Ortiz is known, after the 2002 season. Epstein saw value. "We spoke to a lot of people about David," says the GM. "Everyone said he was part of the heart and soul of that Minnesota team, that he was the kind of guy you'd love playing with."
Ortiz turned out to be a perfect foil for his flightier fellow Dominicans, Ramirez and Martinez. Ramirez plays left field, but that's more of an address than a position. On bad days, he fields fly balls like a Border collie, running left and right to herd the ball toward him. He can forget standard obligations: running to first base on a grounder, say. Last fall the Bosox offered him to any team that would eat the remainder of his $160 million contract--no takers. Lucky for Boston. Ramirez this year was calm and focused and hit a ton. "This team has a mentality that it will pick you up when things go wrong," he told TIME. "It made everything so much easier this year."
Martinez is another complex character. Although he has been one of the game's dominant pitchers, the Yankees seemed to have his number. After another loss to them in late September, he blurted out, "I just tip my hat and call the Yankees my daddy." Ever sensitive New York fans quickly added, "Who's your Dad-dy?" to the 1918 taunt. But by the thick of this year's playoffs, Pedro too had adapted the team's "Why not us?" attitude. He pitched a gem in the World Series.
The final pieces were assembled on July 31, the eve of the trading deadline, as the Sox shipped out shortstop Nomar Garciaparra. No-mah, as Boston fans know him, went to the Chicago Cubs in a complicated trade that brought the relatively unknown Orlando Cabrera from Montreal. Trading Garciaparra was risky. He was a baseball Brahmin, descended from the line of Boston icons that included Ted Williams and Carl Yastrzemski. But Garciaparra had been unsettled since the Sox tried to land Rodriguez. It was a gutsy, initially unpopular trade, but it worked out. Says Epstein: "One thing about our ownership--they're not afraid to look stupid."