It was a relationship fortified by time (4 1/2 seasons together) and shared experience, the lowest of lows (Aaron Boone's walkoff shot) and the highest of highs (a start in Game 1 of the 2004 World Series).

But now there is no Doug Mirabelli to absorb Tim Wakefield's frustrations and wayward knuckleballs. There is instead Josh Bard, here to begin an altogether new relationship, one that last night proved awkward and difficult at times and left Wakefield to offer a variation of one of the all-time relationship lines.

"It's not him," Wakefield said after his briefest start since late 2003. "It's me."

Wakefield, lasting just 3 2/3 innings in last night's 10-4 loss to the Rangers, allowed seven runs on seven hits, including a three-run Phil Nevin homer before getting an out, and a two-run Nevin double in the fourth that had Terry Francona coming out for the ball. Lenny DiNardo allowed an inherited runner to score, surrendered a homer to Brad Wilkerson in the sixth, and handed off to David Riske, who in his Sox debut kept with the theme, giving up a two-run blast to catcher Rod Barajas as the Rangers routed the Sox before 29,442 at Ameriquest Field.

Bard allowed three passed balls one in the first inning that was just out of the zone, another later in the inning at eye level that he lost sight of, and a carbon copy of that in the third inning. No Sox catcher had allowed that many passed balls since Mirabelli here in Arlington July 29, 2003.

Bard, in 152 previous games, had allowed nine total, never more than one in a game. A reporter asked if at any point he thought, "Oh no, why am I here?"

Bard managed a laugh, and said, "I never said, `Why am I here?' There's going to be uncomfortable situations. You've just go to keep going. Wake's such a professional. He stayed positive with me."

Francona stood behind Bard, saying, "He would not be out there if I didn't think he could do it."

Wakefield, too, said, "If anybody's going to judge him, it should not be on my outing. The judgment should fall on me."

Early on, Wakefield said, "It seemed like every pitch I made did something different," and though that might sound good for a knuckleballer, it wasn't.

Here's how Wakefield's night began:

Wilkerson shot a full-count fastball to right for a single. Young walked on five pitches. The next pitch, just off the plate, ricocheted off Bard's glove, advancing Wilkerson and Young. Mark Teixeira then looped a single to center, plating Wilkerson on a ball that Coco Crisp (3 for 5, a stolen base, 2 runs) probably should have caught.

Though he was one of the AL's best defensive left fielders last season, according to several publications, Crisp has never been known to take the most precise routes to balls, and this seemed to an example.

The cleanup hitter, Nevin, then belted a 1-and-2 knuckleball into the benches in left center.

Texas 4, Red Sox 0, with Wakefield still looking for his first out of the season.

Hank Blalock lined out, Kevin Mench reached on a ground-rule double, and by the time No. 7 hitter Laynce Nix whiffed, Bard had been out there so long he assumed there had to be three outs. So he turned for the dugout, only to have Wakefield flash two fingers, a subtle reminder.

Worsening matters, Wakefield had to watch Vicente Padilla cut through the Sox lineup in the early innings.

The righthander allowed a Crisp single to begin the game and Mike Lowell's leadoff single in the second, then didn't allow a hit to any of the next 12 batters. Of those 12, just one reached (David Ortiz, with a leadoff walk in the fourth).

By the time the Sox finally got to him for a run it was the sixth, when Ortiz's ground-rule double cut it to 7-1. Manny Ramirez fanned twice against Padilla and three times in a game for only the 53d time in his career, all on fastballs down the middle that overpowered him.

Bard said Padilla "was throwing a little harder than I thought coming in." And Crisp said Padilla's fastball had excellent late movement, which led to Crisp breaking two bats, though he singled both times.

Someone mentioned to Crisp: That's something Johnny used to do a lot break bats for hits.

"Johnny Pesky?" Crisp asked.

He smiled, a rare sight in the clubhouse last night.