We’ve watched the Slugging Sox all of our lives. We just saw the Raging Red Sox again, taking out their anger on opponents and each other. Some of us haven’t forgotten, much as we’ve tried, the Sterile Sox, that impotent 1992 team that had Tom Brunasky batting clean-up.

Never have we borne witness to the Runnin’ Red Sox, though, until now.

Frankly, some of us thought we’d see two Red Sox world championships before we’d root for a Red Sox team that had this much speed, or at least one that was willing to use it. And we were right.

As of Saturday, the Red Sox had 56 stolen bases this season. Only two teams, Houston and Tampa Bay, had more. The Boston Red Sox most of us grew up with finished last in steals every single year, and the next-to-last team wasn’t even close. It’s a little known fact that in the 1980s, Gamblers Anonymous would allow its members to bet on two things every season – that Jim Rice would lead the league in double plays and the Red Sox would finish dead last in stolen bases.

These Go-Go Sox have swiped those 56 bases in 64 games. The 1983 Red Sox stole 30 bases in an entire season. Jacoby Ellsbury probably would have passed them already if he didn’t injure his wrist Thursday. The Red Sox we all grew up with would only steal a base if the pitcher was paying absolutely no attention to their baserunners. If they needed to get a runner into scoring position for a late-game comeback, a Dave Roberts moment if you will, somebody had to hit a double.

Now, we get guys not only stealing second, but third. We have opposing pitchers developing a nervous tic, constantly looking over their shoulders to make sure Ellsbury or Julio Lugo or Coco Crisp doesn’t have too big of a lead (or, in Coco’s case, isn’t charging the mound). We have outfielders frantically chasing down base hits and firing the ball back into the infield in hopes of keeping them from taking an extra base. Back in the 1980’s, I swear I once saw Gorman Thomas stomp out a cigarette butt before fielding a Rich Gedman wall-ball. Now, if the ball hits the Monster at just the right angle, we’re expecting an inside-the-park home run.

It always used to be the other team that did that. I remember watching Kansas City Royals speedster Willie Wilson fly around the bases on a triple once and being stupefied that a human could run that fast on a baseball field.

Now, that’s our guy.

Our guys make things happen on the bases. If the wind is blowing in, they don’t need four straight singles or back-to-back doubles to get a run in. They still can’t bunt, but they can steal. They can hit-and-run. Until I was 16, I thought hit-and-run was what I did to Stanley the neighborhood bully.

Last year, Ellsbury scored from second on a wild pitch. Back in the day, a catcher could jog back to the backstop, pick up the ball, double-pump, and still get Tony Armas at second by a step. And he was our center fielder.

Okay, I exaggerate a tad. That’s only if Armas didn’t get a good jump.

The Red Sox weren’t just piano-on-their-backs slow then, they were horrible baserunners. It was embarrassing, like they weren’t even trying. A lot of times, they weren’t.

Baseball broadcasters always used to talk about how Wade Boggs was one of the fastest runners to first base in the American League. That’s because all Boggs cared about was getting to first base to boost his precious batting average. For some reason, he couldn’t muster the strength to run fast after that. From second to home on a base hit, it was like he was running in a swimming pool. To this day, I refuse to eat chicken because Wade Boggs made me believe it’s bad for your endurance.

The Sox did have the occasional speed demon in my youth. Jerry Remy could have stolen 20 or 30 bases a year if he hadn’t messed up his knee. Ellis Burks probably could have swiped 50 in a season if they had let him. It seemed like every year a Lee Tinsley or a Jeff McNeely would make the roster, but most of those guys couldn’t get on base, so they didn’t last long.

The franchise started altering it’s anti-speed stance in the mid-’90s. Guys like Otis Nixon and Darren Lewis begat Johnny Damon and Roberts. Once the Red Sox signed Rickey Henderson in 2002, there was no going back, even though he was 43. After decades of signing washed-up sluggers, here was the greatest base stealer of all time in a Boston Red Sox uniform.

The funny thing is, Boston’s stats guru, Bill James, disparages the stolen base as a high-risk, low-reward venture, and Terry Francona seemed to agree until now. The Sox swiped 51 bases only two years ago, just 45 the year before that.

But that was before Jacoby Ellsbury and Julio Lugo arrived. Now, Francona is giving his fly guys the green light, and not a moment too soon, perhaps. With David Ortiz’s wrist in doubt, the Sox might have to manufacture runs now more than ever.

If the Red Sox run their way to a title, we will have officially seen it all.

Randy Whitehouse is a staff writer who can be reached at [email protected]