Remember Rusney Castillo? He’ll make $14 million in Triple-A, then finally become a free agent

FORT MYERS, Fla.—On an unseasonably cool Florida afternoon, Red Sox regulars scattered like mice before the start of the annual spring training exhibition vs. Northeastern.

None of them were going to play, and therefore, none had to stay, the promise of a rare afternoon off beckoning like an oasis.

So in their place, a parade of prospects, minor leaguers, and fringe performers comprised the starting nine. Some—such as center fielder Jarren Duran—may have a future in Boston. Others—such as third baseman Chad De La Guerra or left fielder John Andreoli—are household names only in their own households.

But there, batting cleanup and playing right field, was a man with more name recognition than all of them combined, finishing his Red Sox career in a peculiar purgatory, population: one.

One of the strangest baseball stories of this period approaches an end.