The wild bunch

By MIKE MILIARD  |  March 4, 2009

WADE BOGGS (RED SOX, 1982–1992) We all know about the chicken. About the 150 pre-game ground balls. About the batting practice at 5:17 and the wind sprints at 7:17. About the dusty "chai" symbol carved into the batter's box and the horsey ride with the cop in Yankee Stadium and, uh, the sex addiction. But the best, most mind-blowing Boggs story of all — absolutely, 100 percent, without-a-doubt — is the one about the time he drank 64(!) beers on a cross-country plane ride. In his defense, he protests that "it wasn't 64. . . . We don't need to divulge the number. It was a few Miller Lights." I dunno, Wade. Your teammates who were there seem to think otherwise.

IRVING FRYAR (PATRIOTS, 1984–1992) He carried a gun stocked with hollow-point bullets. He claimed he was robbed near a Boston jewelry store and that when he chased the crooks down he was fired upon. (“Police combed the vicinity and never found a spent bullet,” SI reported, “and nobody in the area had seen or heard anything.”) Before Super Bowl XX, his wife allegedly attacked him with a knife (a charge he denies), injuring his hand. After leaving in the middle of game with an injury in ’86, he immediately got in his car, drove away from Sullivan Stadium — and straight into a tree. “First a knife in the kitchen, now a fork in the road,” quipped one sportswriter. Nowadays, as men scarred by such hijinx sometimes do, he’s turned his life around and is a pastor with the New Jerusalem House of God.

BILL WALTON (CELTICS, 1985–1987) The guy's been to 650 Grateful Dead shows. Heck, he even played drums with them at their '78 Great Pyramid shows in Egypt. That didn't always endear him to the rest of the NBA. "I've been accused," he's said, "of being a Communist, hiding Patty Hearst, and taking LSD before a game." We'll take his word for it that those are all baseless accusations.

ALEXI LALAS (N.E. REVOLUTION, 1996–1997) He really wasn't all that weird. He pretty much just had some crazy hair and a chest-length goatee, and played in a middling rock band that opened for Hootie and the Blowfish. But, hey, MLS needed a representative.

CARL EVERETT (RED SOX, 2000–2001) It was sad, in its way, seeing Carl Everett hit .327, with 100 RBI and 29 homers for the lowly Long Island Ducks last summer. The guy, once upon a time, was a crazy-good hitter at the MLB level. He was also, well, crazy. It wasn't just his infamous professed belief that dinosaurs never existed. ("God created the sun, the stars, the heavens and the earth, and then made Adam and Eve. The Bible never says anything about dinosaurs. You can't say there were dinosaurs when you never saw them. Somebody actually saw Adam and Eve. No one ever saw a Tyrannosaurus rex.") It was his doubts about the Apollo moon landing. His decidedly un-PC remarks about gays. His tirades against teammates and sportswriters alike. And his head-butting of umpires. "He was in a Sox uniform for two Family Days," Barstool Sports notes, "and got thrown out of each."

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