Krause: Buckner doesn’t need forgiveness, only fairness

While the Red Sox made a noble gesture Tuesday by asking Bill Buckner to throw out the first ball of the home season (therefore officially “pardoning” him for his egregious error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series), I’m not sure it was necessary.First, I don’t think there’s an intelligent fan out there who cannot separate the error from the man. The error, yes, was awful – but no worse than the failure of Boston’s relief pitchers to get the third out AFTER being staked to a two-run lead ? AND getting the first two outs of the 10th inning.And it was no worse than the wild pitch/passed ball (take your pick, as that debate will go on forever) by Bob Stanley/Rich Gedman that preceded it – and that allowed the tying run to score in that inning.When he did his croquet wickets impression, it just put the period at the end of a very bizarre and ugly sentence. All the subjects and predicates had been already put in place by then.Yes, it was maddening. The temper tantrum I threw after that game is a family legend.But it wasn’t any worse than not being able to hold a 3-0 lead in the sixth inning of Game 7. The sight of Darryl Strawberry lollygagging around the bases after taking Al Nipper deep was every bit as nauseating as Buckner’s error.But somehow, in the minds of many (but mainly blabbermouth radio talk-show callers and ESPN – which plays that clip endlessly), Buckner became the vortex of all the frustration to come out of that series. It was never fair. And as much as we may joke about it, and go into fake conniptions whenever his name comes up, I submit there isn’t a fair-minded person out there who has ever wished him ill will.It certainly didn’t help Billy Buck’s cause that these were the Red Sox – a team whose very history chronicled futility until 2004. Owner Harry Frazee broke up a true dynasty in the early part of the 20th century. And not only did he sell off his best players, he sold them off to New York, which, even back then, was Boston’s cultural rival.And we all know, by now, about the apocryphal “Curse of the Bambino,” and how the ghost of the great Sultan of Swat hovered over Fenway Park for years, turning potential glory into unmitigated disaster.It was just Buckner’s luck that he came to personify all those demons, and the unfairness stemmed from the fact that he was a terrific gamer who withstood the pain of injuries in that World Series that would put most of today’s players on the disabled list. He’s certainly not Mike Torrez (groover of Bucky Dent’s famous 1978 home run), who, upon seeing Buckner miss that ball, ran up and down screaming, “I’m off the hook; I’m off the hook!”You have my permission if you want to pile on him.However, Buckner does feel as if he was thrown under the bus by certain segments of the news media, which he saw as fueling the anger of all the nitwits who sent nasty, anonymous threats and bothered his kids. And he did get very indignant in 2004 when someone suggested that, at last, he could be forgiven.Forgiven? Forgiven for what? He made an error. Don’t we all – at some point?And do you want to know what I think? I think that the people who ranted and raved and held it against him until 2004 are the same people who would kick over water coolers, throw bats around the dugout, and put on other displays of almost pathological self-loathing when they failed in Little League games.Maybe the Red Sox felt as if they owed him, but I don’t know that they did. The gesture, while nice, almost seems too mawkish in hindsight.It happened. It’s over. The Red Sox have won the World Series twice since. The curse – if there ever was one – has been lifted. The ghost has been exorcised.Let’s remember Billy Buck for the 102 runs he knocked home in 1986. Let’s just know that without Billy Buck there may not have been a World Series in Boston.Let us hope that this is the last time we’ll ever have to be reminded of how a good guy, and a good player, had his most embarrassing moment on the biggest, and worst, po