Red Sox passion isn't vanishing, it's just translating into big spending.
Boston Red Sox third baseman Will Middlebrooks, right, called on some season ticket holders who are dropping their packages.
FORT MYERS, Fla. – The Red Sox ticket market is so soft that even the third baseman was working the phones.
"I happened to be in town,'' said Will Middlebrooks, who was commandeered to call some of the season ticket holders who are not renewing their packages.
"I got a lot of voice mail, but I talked to four or five real people, too. One guy said, 'hey man, I got to go. I've got a meeting.' ''
The others were quite pleasant. If I picked up the phone in the kitchen and a voice told me it was Will Middlebrooks, I'm not sure I'd believe him, but others did.
That doesn't mean they dropped everything to pony up.
The popular storyline these days is that lifelong Red Sox fans are tuning out their team. Season ticket renewals are down 10 percent and the sellout streak, even in its currently phony state, will probably end by the second home game.
Middlebrooks does not believe he has arrived at Fenway just in time for the end of a love affair that turned passionate in 1967.
"Of course, people would doubt us, but this is Red Sox Nation. The support of the real fans will always be there,'' Middlebrooks said.
A Boston Globe story this week said otherwise. Not only are season ticket holders bailing out, but some are offended by what they consider the indifferent attitude of team management.
The Red Sox say they have tried to contact every non-renewer. Some who were reached say they felt the phone call was too impersonal, as if the team representatives (not Middlebrooks) were simply getting it done so that they could go on to the next name on the list.
This sounds like a redux of University of Massachusetts basketball, which owned its market in the John Calipari years and afterward.
Loyal, longtime fans felt pushed aside by the bigger donors, who were that team's pink hats. When the team slipped, the school tried to convince the old guard they were still important, but many left.
Some never came back. Only lately has the resentment begun to soften.
Similarly, having spoiled their fans with success and big spending, and then the arrogance of winners, the Red Sox have lost the charming, personal connection that sustained them for decades. Some of it is their fault, and some isn't.
To operate a team in a big market, you have to be a big business. People don't relate to that, not when they were used to the Old Towne Team
Team president Larry Lucchino called on some disenchanted fans, too. My guess is that he received a cooler response than Middlebrooks.
But I'm with Will. I don't think Red Sox fans are giving up on their team, which is still drawing big crowds in spring training, even as the visiting team.
The fans might be giving up on paying $15,000 for two season tickets, though. According to club research, 40 percent of the drop off was attributed to the economy.
The economy was even worse in 2008 and 2009, though, and people still paid. But just because people aren't paying now doesn't mean they don't care.
It's not that their hearts have been broken, it's that their sensibilities have been trampled, not just by management but by players they didn't like – and which in many cases are gone.
It won't take a World Series to win back the fans' heart, trust and wallets, but it will take more than a phone call, even from Will Middlebrooks.
The passion of Red Sox fans should never be underestimated, but neither should it be taken for granted. That will be the lesson of the empty seats in 2013.