(Boston Globe File Photo)

Enigmatic. Charismatic. Loud and proud.  Humble and sensitive. Dennis Boyd fits no obvious mold as a baseball player.  But even at 49 he retains a profound love of the game.  His overall statistics show a slightly above average player whose big league career spanned ten years.  His highlight season was 24 years ago, when at age 25 he made 35 starts, won 15 of them.  He also completed 13 of those starts, three of which were shutouts, on his way to 272 and a third innings.  He narrowly missed being named to the All-Star the following season which prompted an outburst from Boyd.  Later that season when passed over to start the deciding game of the World Series, Boyd cried.  All those innings at that young age, imperiled the rest of his career.  Arm troubles and surgery and mediocre seasons from 87-89 effectively ended his career in Boston.

I saw him pitch in his last Major League season.  Just traded to the Texas Rangers, Boyd made the start in Fenway on July 30th, 1991.  He got cuffed around but received a warm welcome from the Fenway fans.  The old friend returning to the site of his past glories.  The game was played under a strange set of circumstances.  A few hours before the first pitch, Red Sox reliever Jeff Gray had suffered what was announced as a stroke.  It was a strange Sox club.  Defending AL East champions.  But their only legitimate starting pitcher was the presumptively steroid free version of Roger Clemens.  The Sox could have used Boyd on a half year rental, based on how well he had pitched to that point in 1991.

But now, the arm feels fresh and fine and his competitive fires burn anew.  Seventeen and a half years after his last big league start, the Red Sox and all the rest of Major League Baseball may have a chance to see what Boyd at 49 can do. There is no doubting his love for the game, nor is there any denying that he is one of the more colorful and ebullient ambassadors of the game. His traveling All-Stars kept him and the independent minor leagues in the public’s eye. Now he wants a chance to prove to himself and all of us that there is room again for him. In announcing his hope to return, Boyd touched on the truism that all miscreants in uniform rely on.

“I spoke to some people about it. If I was given an opportunity, I’d love to work my way back. I think it would be good for the game. It shows me baseball is a forgiving game.”

Forgiveness. But Boyd is not a player seeking to reinvent himself and hide some skeletons in his closet. Like Julio Franco and new Hall of Fame inductee Rickey Henderson, he’s a man who even as he nears his sixth decade on this earth, still loves the game of baseball.  Baseball is mostly a meritocracy. The best players will get their chances to demonstrate their talent and their worth. Occasionally young, deserving players will be blocked by over the hill stars, clinging ’til the bitter end. If Boyd proves he can hang, he’ll get every chance to stick. And that would be a very curious case indeed.

Welcome back, Dennis, and good luck.