Wade Boggs defined greatness in Boston with line drives, patience, and a beer-soaked legend that’s only grown with time.
If the Red Sox have taught us anything over the last century-plus, it’s that numbers matter.
Pennants matter. Beards matter. And when you’re talking about No. 26, there’s really only one place to start in Boston baseball history:
Wade Boggs.
With 2026 upon us, it’s the perfect time to recognize the singular greatness of Wade Boggs - the definitive No. 26 in Red Sox history.
There’s little debate: no one else comes close (with all due respect to Brock Holt, Lou Merloni and Earl Wilson, of course). You'll never hear a single person argue against his jersey being retired during the 2016 season - a beautiful ceremony I happened to be in attendance for as a fan.
Boggs arrived in Boston in 1982 and immediately looked like he was playing a different sport than everyone else.
While the rest of the league was playing some version of small ball that would look like a different sport to today’s baseball fan, Boggs was busy turning line drives into an art form. He didn’t just hit .300, he lived there.
From 1983 through 1991, Boggs hit below .320 exactly once. In 1987, he batted .363 and somehow didn’t win the MVP - which feels like a very 1980s Red Sox thing to happen.
What made Boggs special wasn’t power, speed, or defensive wizardry. It was precision. Every at-bat felt intentional. Boggs didn’t guess, he knew. He fouled off your best pitch and then slapped a double off the wall to remind you that patience is painful. Fenway Park was his laboratory, and the Green Monster was his accomplice.
And in the spirit of New Year’s - a holiday built on bad decisions and waking up wondering how you got there - it would be irresponsible not to acknowledge Boggs’ other legendary skill:
Beer drinking.
Boggs didn’t just rake at the plate; he allegedly raked through beer carts at a Hall of Fame pace.
The stories have taken on a life of their own over the years, from cross-country flights to mythical, almost unfathomable totals that feel less like statistics and more like folklore.
Whether the exact number was 50, 70, or “don’t ask,” the point remains the same, Boggs approached Miller Lite with the same discipline and consistency he brought to the batter’s box. One at a time. No rush. Always under control.
It’s become such a part of his legend that it somehow feels fitting - a very 1980s Red Sox kind of excellence that existed both on the field and, allegedly, at 30,000 feet.
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Of course, no conversation about Boggs in Boston is complete without acknowledging the heartbreak.
He was a pillar of those loaded, often maddening Red Sox teams that could hit with anyone but couldn’t quite get over the hump. The 1986 World Series will forever loom large, and while Boggs wasn’t the villain of that story, he was part of the core that wore the weight of it.
Fair or not, that’s part of the legacy.
And yet, even with the lack of a championship ring in Boston, Boggs’ place in Red Sox history is ironclad. Five batting titles. Two Gold Gloves. An on-base percentage that feels made up when you look back at it now. A Hall of Fame plaque that proudly lists his time in Boston first, as it should.
Did he go on to play five seasons for the hated Yankees, winning a World Series ring in pinstripes in 1996? He sure did. But for the most part, Red Sox Nation has memory-holed the image of him riding around the Yankee Stadium outfield on a horse in triumph.
As 2026 begins, remember what No. 26 represents in Red Sox lore:
Discipline, consistency, and the art of the perfectly placed line drive.
…and deleting Miller Lites like no one ever has or ever will again.
Wade Boggs didn’t just wear the number, he established the standard. Decades later, that standard remains his alone.
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Tom Carroll is a contributor for Roundtable, with boots-on-the-ground coverage of all things Boston sports. He's a senior digital content producer for WEEI.com, and a native of Lincoln, RI.