FORT MYERS, Fla. (AP) – “Cowboy Up” left Boston. So did the “idiot.”

Walk into the Red Sox clubhouse now and you’re more likely to see players quietly reading the newspaper than seeing their pictures in it.

Sure, Boston still has the laughter of David Ortiz and the back slaps Manny Ramirez gives teammates. But without boisterous Kevin Millar, who popularized the team’s “Cowboy Up” slogan in 2003, and the “guys acting like idiots,” as Johnny Damon labeled them in 2004, the clubhouse is much quieter.

“I think we can win 100 games here being a bunch of nuns,” said guitarist and pitcher Bronson Arroyo, one of the remaining happy-go-lucky players from the team’s magical 2004 championship season.

Still, Millar’s antics in the clubhouse – he once did nude jumping jacks – and good-natured barbs directed at teammates made it a very loose, comfortable place.

“He forces everybody to say, This guy’s off the wall. I can be myself around here. I don’t have to walk on eggshells,”‘ Arroyo said.

After last season, Millar’s hijinks didn’t make up for his hitting problems and the Red Sox didn’t try to re-sign him. So he joined Baltimore as a free agent. Damon also left as a free agent, going to the New York Yankees, where he toned down his act by cutting his long locks and shaving his beard to comply with their grooming code.

Yankees boss George Steinbrenner probably wouldn’t be happy if Damon writes a sequel to his book issued after the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004, “Idiot: Beating “The Curse’ and Enjoying the Game of Life.”

But Millar returned last Tuesday – a gleeful ghost of the past – looking the same except for his orange-and-black Orioles uniform before an exhibition game against the Red Sox.

He acted the same, too, embracing 86-year-old Red Sox instructor Johnny Pesky and screaming across the outfield at former teammate Trot Nixon.

“You reach a point at this level where guys are afraid to trip out, guys are afraid to smile, guys are afraid to have fun because it’s not the cool thing to do, and I don’t understand it,” Millar said. Fans “could relate with me because I was just a normal ol’ guy. Just being normal. Or not normal. I’m a little crazy.”

Try as he might to keep a straight face, manager Terry Francona simply had to grin and bear Millar’s behavior.

“I know there were games where we’d be losing and I didn’t want to laugh” Francona said. “Nothing was off limits with him, but he had a way of making it harmless, endearing.”

Two other clubhouse cutups, Pedro Martinez and Derek Lowe, left after the 2004 season. Another, catcher Doug Mirabelli, was traded to San Diego after last season for second baseman Mark Loretta, talented, personable but not especially playful.

Because of the considerable offseason turnover, the Red Sox identity has yet to be formed.

They added pitcher Josh Beckett, third baseman Mike Lowell and shortstop Alex Gonzalez from Florida, centerfielder Coco Crisp, pitcher David Riske and catcher Josh Bard from Cleveland and relievers Julian Tavarez from St. Louis and Rudy Seanez from San Diego.

All professional, but none of them noted pranksters.

“Each team has its own personality,” Francona said. “You can’t force it. But more so now than probably ever before, because we have so many new people, that will be a priority” to develop team chemistry.

Of all the newcomers, Crisp appears to have the best personality to keep the clubhouse relaxed. Like Damon, the man he’s replacing in the field and the leadoff spot, he’s outgoing, funny and very approachable.

Crisp even let Ortiz pour milk over his head for a Sports Illustrated photo shoot that plays on his cereal-like name.

“It’s just about me coming in here and getting comfortable and then being completely myself and that always takes time,” Crisp said. “I’m starting to get more comfortable and starting to have fun with the guys. Everybody’s been real cool.”

The clubhouse should get looser once Ortiz returns from the World Baseball Classic, where he’s playing for the Dominican Republic. Then he can sit by his locker, next to Ramirez’s and a few spots from where Damon used to dress.

“That’s my boy. I talked to him a lot before and after he went to the other side,” Ortiz said before leaving for the tournament. “You come to camp and see a bunch of new faces get in the mix. It’s something that guys that have been around here have to deal with and have to make sure that everybody feels comfortable.”

It seems to be working.

On Friday, Ramirez sat by his locker, joking with Gonzalez and two players who likely won’t make the team, infielder Alejandro Machado and pitcher Edgar Martinez.

At a nearby table, Lowell talked and laughed with Nixon.

By his locker, Arroyo smiled and chatted about the difficulty of drinking a gallon of milk in one hour. He thinks Crisp, who had a pitcher of it poured on him, will brighten the clubhouse.

“Over time, when he gets more comfortable around here, he definitely will bring a little spark,” Arroyo said. “We’re still going to have Manny and David, who have seen what Kevin has done over the last couple of years and, hopefully, they’re going to keep it coming.”

Still, the Red Sox have to be more boring without Millar, don’t they?

“I don’t know,” Millar said. “I’m not in that clubhouse.”