FORT MYERS, Fla. - Mike Lowell hit back last year, and hasn't stopped punching since.

It began with the slings and arrows that came with being the new guy in town who few had faith in. Hitting .236 with eight home runs in 500 at-bats in 2005 with the Florida Marlins was the initial impetus for the bombardment sent Lowell's way. And there was last spring training which encouraged more doubters, thanks to a litany of scouts filing reports on his perceived slow bat.

Then Lowell started fighting perceptions.

He hit .318 in the first month, and .316 the month after and finished his first year in Boston having fully justified his $8 million a year contract. The final totals came in at .284, 20 home runs, 80 RBI, and a gaudy 47 doubles.

But, as Lowell explained while unpacking his things in the Red Sox clubhouse yesterday afternoon, the gloves didn't come off there.

"I started boxing," he said when asked what was new this offseason. "I really liked it."

At 32-years-old (he will be 33 in three days) Lowell decided to take his offseason conditioning in a completely different direction than ever before. So with the help of one of prize fighter Bernard Hopkins' former sparring partners, Gaspar Contreras, the Sox third baseman spent an hour a day, three days a week for 21/2 months uncovering his hidden talents.

"I liked boxing anyway, but I felt like I really got some good technique doing this," said Lowell, whose lessons were usually executed on his home's patio and never included sparring. "I had never done it in a structured environment, although I did get in a few fights over the course of my career."

There was no head gear, and his face remained firmly intact, but the sport did offer Lowell a whole new perspective on his body and what it could become.

The hours and hours of squats Lowell was encouraged to do the year before had built up his legs, but didn't leave him with the kind of mobility he desired. Despite what nearly a second straight Gold Glove year, he often felt like he was playing third base with "two cement blocks in my shoes."

"I got hooked up with (Contreras) through a friend of mine at the gym," he said. "I was telling him I didn't want to do the straight weight stuff. I wanted to do something where I was moving around and it was functional for baseball.

"Once we started (Contreras) said, 'You're right-handed with everything, which means you're turning one way the whole time. This is going to be good because it's going to give you a lot of movement on the left side.' I noticed when I first started hitting and throwing, it usually takes a while to loosen up my back but I wasn't sore at all. It didn't take any time at all to get loose. I felt like I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish."

The foray into the sweet science was just a portion of Lowell's upside-down offseason. Just weeks before spring training, his name was thrown into trade talks which threatened to send him to Colorado in a package for Todd Helton.

The scenario offered for one of the winter's best lines. Sox manager Terry Francona called Lowell, who answered, "now batting fifth for Colorado."

"I don't think I was in that jolly of a mood," Lowell said of the call. "I'm realistic about the business of baseball. The third baseman for Colorado (Garrett Atkins) hit .300 (.329) last year, and they weren't trading me to keep me around. But I can't be mad at the Red Sox for trying to acquire Todd Helton. I would love to acquire Todd Helton."

The idea of playing in the offensively-charged Coors Field in a contract year would normally be delightful for a free agent-to-be like Lowell. But he has made it clear to the Red Sox that Boston is where he wants to be.

One might think that Fenway Park would be just as beneficial for his numbers as the rarefied air of Denver. But last year's initiation to Boston's bandbox offered some challenges for Lowell, who finished the season hitting .310 on the road and just .260 at home.

By season's end, however, the town, the park, and the team had helped Lowell discover a brand new baseball life.

"When I played at a place like Dolphins Stadium, there were times you look to pull pitches just because it's such a big park. I would have to crush one in the middle because I didn't have the power to hit it 434 feet," he said. "There were counts where I looked to pull, but I didn't have that thought process in Fenway. It allowed me to stay centered."