* The finest rivalry in sports revs up again this weekend, as the Boston Red Sox visit New York for a four-game argument with the Yankees.

In recent years, one of these two teams has usually been leading the American League East by early July. This year, the upstart and outstanding Tampa Bay Rays are in front with a 52-32 record, best in the major leagues.

There’s a possible explanation for the Rays’ dynamic breakthrough, and I’m surprised members of the evangelical preaching corps have not been crowing about it. Here’s the pitch:

Earlier this year, Tampa Bay ditched its original nickname, the Devil Rays. A devil ray is the same thing as a devilfish, which Mr. Webster explains is so-named because its pectoral fins are shaped like horns near the eyes. Tampa Bay stuck with this clumsy handle from 1998 — when the team played its first major league game — until this season.

Without Satanic influence, the once-hapless Rays have flown out of the cellar and climbed over the birds, top hats and red socks that reside in Toronto, Baltimore, New York and Boston.

Could it have been this simple? Cast out the devil and ascend to glory?

Some preachers must have welcomed Tampa Bay’s decision to drop the name of the serpent, the tempter, the “Old Gentleman.”

These are the folks who have complained that hellacious monikers for high school sports teams are a bad influence on players. So Blue Devils, Devil Bats, Red Devils and Green Demons became persona non grata on high school basketball courts and football fields.

I haven’t heard a word of testimony from the righteous, but they don’t give me that old time religion on my home television. Maybe they’re thumping the good book, and shouting loud and proud about the evil one’s defeat in Florida.
I guess they can’t say the Rays are having a hell of a season.

It’s probably all coincidence anyway. The Angels were lousy for years, in both California and Los Angeles, before the franchise won its first World Series in 2002. If God is a baseball fan — and He certainly is not an Oriole fan — the Halos should have won every World Series since their inception in 1961.

But I wonder if the New Jersey Devils are watching ....

* Speaking of the devil, maybe he’s behind baseball’s latest problem. All these maple bats that are blowing up in the infield, and maybe Old Nick has a hand, a tail and a cloven hoof in all this destruction.

Seems like it happens every game. Fastball approaches, batter connects, bat shatters into dozens of splinters and shards. Pitchers and infielders must be the most nervous guys in sports these days. It’s hard enough catching a hard line drive or a tricky grounder — trying to avoid a spinning, jagged piece of wood is now part of the job.

The answer seems simple. Maple might be lighter, but ash is stronger wood that has served the majors well for decades. More ash bats means fewer shattered sticks. I wonder who introduced maple in the first place. Maybe Mr. Applegate is back in the major leagues, after his failed “Joe Hardy” experiment with the Washington Senators during the late 1950s.

But even Mr. Applegate wasn’t that mean!

* My last baseball item comes courtesy of Michael Kay, the Yankees’ lead announcer on its YES broadcasts.

I’d rather listen to the great John Sterling on radio, but I was stuck inside the other night. That’s when I heard the smarmy Kay mention that Texas Ranger catcher Jarrod Saltalamacchia has the longest last name in baseball history — 14 letters.

I thought for sure that Billy Grabarkewitz, the former Los Angeles Dodger infielder who played in the majors from 1969 through 1975, had Jarrod beat — just through the sound of his name. But Billy would need two more vowels or consonants just to tie! So would Jason Isringhausen, the former New York Met pitcher.

I smuggled the 2,337-page Baseball Encyclopedia out of newspaper’s sports department, and tried to disprove the great Michael Kay. Gene DeMontreville, a National League infielder during the early 1900s, came close, with 13 letters. I couldn’t find anyone closer.

But I did find some great names. The encyclopedia lists players by nicknames, names they used during their playing days. Egyptian Healy pitched during the late 1800s; Stuffy McInnis played shortstop and first base for the Philadelphia Athletics, Boston Red Sox and a bunch of other clubs from 1909 until 1925; Kewpie Pennington pitched one game — and only one inning — for the St. Louis Browns in 1917.

Old Hoss Radbourn pitched and played outfield during the 1800s; Chief Bender was a big winner on the mound for the Philadelphia Athletics from 1903 until 1914.

I think my favorite name comes from the 1800s: Phenomenal Smith pitched and played outfield for Detroit, Baltimore and Philly during the 1880s and ‘90s.

And with 10 letters in the first name ... I’ll bet Michael Kay will have trouble beating that one!