BOSTON - When did this craziness begin? When did baseball in New England go from a sport a region cared deeply about to a religion? When did baseball go from a 162-game, six-month long marathon to an endless series of do-or-die 100-meter dashes?

Rico Petrocelli, donning a replica wool version of the uniform he and his former teammates wore 40 years ago, smiled when asked those same questions.

"I have to say, it was our year, 1967," said Petrocelli, still featuring those boyish cheeks and that humble-as-pie personality. "I believe the Red Sox Nation was born that year, when baseball became something special."

While yesterday was one of Greater Boston's unofficial holidays - opening day at Fenway Park - for those 45-and-older in attendance yesterday, it was a rare chance to be a kid again.

Before the game, the Sox honored the 1967 team, inviting back Carl Yastrzemski, Petrocelli, Reggie Smith, Gary Bell and Jose Santiago, among others, 40 years after they planted a seed that has since turned into a tropical forest.

Dressed in full garb, wearing replica 1967 uniforms, the ex-Sox combined to throw out the first pitch shortly after Lawrence native Robert Goulet sang, of course, "The Impossible Dream."

Yaz wasn't sure about the "seed" reference, but he was sure about the Red Sox' support before 1967 and since.

"How many fans were there on Opening Day (in 1967)? Eight-thousand?" said Yaz. "That was a lot of people. It was a very different place to play around here my first six years here. It's no fun playing baseball when you're 30 games out."

But everything changed after the All-Star break in 1967. The Red Sox went on a 10-game winning streak. Fenway was bustling. In July, crowds swelled about 25,000. In August, they began topping 30,000. The standing-room sell-outs started in September.

There were many reasons the stars were in alignment that summer.

The Sox, while close a few years, had not won a pennant in 21 seasons. Better yet, a year earlier, they were a ninth-place team in a 10-team league.

Yaz was on a run of epic proportions, taking his place among league leaders in average, homers and RBIs. Jim Lonborg was having one of the greatest seasons for a Red Sox pitcher since Babe Ruth. And the Sox were among four teams - including the White Sox, Tigers and Twins - within three games of first for most of August and September.

As the old Sox lined up yesterday around the pitcher's mound for the first-pitch ceremony, many fans, most 50 and over, lined the front row as if they were teenage girls crying for Sanjaya.

Brian Rooke, 49, of Holden, was one of them, looking more like a kid than a dad. As the 1967 team assembled on the infield, Rooke, with his 14-year-old son Jonathan next to him, waxed poetic.

"I remember the ball falling into Rico Petrocelli's glove," said Rooke of the pennant-clinching game against the Twins at Fenway Park. "I ran to a window and remembered yelling so loud I couldn't make any more noise. That was a defining moment of my youth."

Rooke's mom - yes, mom! - made his dad buy two season tickets in 1968.

"We still have them," he said proudly.

While Yaz, George "Boomer" Scott, Rico and Lonborg played memorable roles in waking up a dormant baseball community, Petrocelli says a lion's share of the credit goes to one man.

"Dick Williams," said Petrocelli of his then rookie manager. "It started in spring training. He didn't say we would win a pennant, but he did say we would win. He said if we did things the right way, which was his way, we would be a better team. If you missed a cutoff, you heard about it. If you didn't move a guy over (with a sacrifice), you heard about it.

"I was here in 1965 and 1966. Yaz was here. It wasn't like that at all," said Petrocelli. "Dick made us accountable. I really believe the fans fell in love with our style of play ... and the winning. That was all Dick."

We could probably say the same thing about Bill Parcells and the Patriots. While a much bigger name when he arrived, he gave the franchise legitimacy on and off the field. The Kraft family, followed by Bill Belichick, came in to finish the job.

For the Sox, the eventual World Series closers were guys like Terry Francona, Curt Schilling, David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez among others.

But lest we forget the beginning, the year and, especially, the team that changed baseball in New England.

"The fans always knew baseball," said Williams. "I don't know anything about planting seeds, but I do know the fans loved us. They carried us. I realize the crowds are huge around here these days, but it was for us, too. Some of my greatest memories in baseball were right here."

Thanks, Red Sox, for bringing them back and reminding us about the birth of Red Sox Nation.

Bill Burt is executive sports editor of Eagle-Tribune Publishing. You can e-mail him at bburt@eagletribune.com.