If Tim Wakefield had some Roger Clemens burning in his belly, he might have been able to transform last night's start against the Pittsburgh Pirates into a sort of hardball quest for vengeance.

Remember the day Clemens returned to Fenway as an ex-member of the Red Sox? Sporting his spiffy Toronto Blue Jays road uniform, Clemens easily dispatched with the Red Sox, and then, walking back to the dugout after the seventh inning, he shot a menacing, take-that glare up toward the area he believed general manager Dan Duquette and other club poobahs were sitting.

Like the Rocket in 1997, Wakefield was facing his old team last night. Well, sort of. Except for the odd clubhouse guy, traveling secretary, media relations director and a collection of veteran Steeltown baseball broadcasters, these are not the Pirates of Wakefield's major league youth, meaning he had nothing to gain by pointing a take-that finger toward the third-base dugout as he walked off the mound.

Besides, Wakefield, who worked seven shutout innings in the Sox' 2-0 loss to the Pirates last night, is too much the businessman when he's on the mound. Whether he's getting lit up or nursing a shutout, neither his facial expression nor his body language changes much from start to start. While you never know how Wakefield's knuckleball will act, you always know how HE will act.

Asked if facing the Pirates held any special meaning, Wakefield said, ``No. The only guy I know over there is the manager (Lloyd McLendon).''

But there's yet another big difference between Wakefield's start against the Pirates last night and Clemens' return to Fenway in 1997. And it's this: Had Duquette been at Fenway Park last night, he'd have been able to puff out his chest a little and enjoy the moment, as opposed to 1997, when he practically had to hide under a table as Clemens flummoxed the Red Sox.

For all the controversial moves Duquette made during what was sometimes a reign of terror as general manager, one of his best moves and proudest moments was his decision to rescue Wakefield from the Triple-A trash heap.

Wakefield has been a member of the Red Sox for so long that it's easy to forget about his phenomenal debut with the Pirates in 1992, followed by his slow descent back to the minor leagues. He was 8-1 in 13 regular-season starts with the '92 Pirates, then posted a pair of complete-game victories over the Atlanta Braves in the National League Championship Series.

By 1994, Wakefield was pitching for the Triple-A Buffalo Bisons, for whom he was 5-15 with a 5.84 ERA. He led the league in all the things you don't write home and tell your parents about: losses; hits allowed; earned runs; home runs; walks . . .

It came as no surprise the following spring when the Pirates decided to cut their losses and show Wakefield to the door. At age 28, he was an ex-major leaguer.

That is, until Duquette called Wakefield and offered him a job. They sent him to extended spring training to work out the kinks in his knuckleball with the Niekro brothers, Phil and Joe, and then they test-marketed him for four starts at Triple-A Pawtucket.

You know the rest. He was 16-8 for the Red Sox in 1995 and finished third in American League Cy Young voting. He was 17-8 in '98, won a pair of starts against the Yankees in the 2003 ALCS, and is fifth on the club's all-time list for victories.

Nobody's suggesting Wakefield would have spent the rest of his years selling vacuum cleaners had he not been swept up by the Red Sox. Surely somebody would have given the guy a look. But it was the Red Sox who did the looking, and now, 10 years later, Dan Duquette can take a bow.