In an annual sendoff that's part hokey ritual, part tangible confirmation of the impending spring, the Red Sox equipment truck left Fenway Park on Saturday afternoon, loaded with balls, bats, gloves and gear, all bound for Fort Myers, Fla.

And in the interest of ensuring everything arrives by the time pitchers and catchers officially report a week from now, the club had better hope the map to brand new JetBlue Park is easier to follow than the one that's guided the team through this offseason.

It's certainly been a long, strange trip since the Sox last played a baseball game, beginning with the completion of the biggest September collapse in big-league history, exploding with allegations of drinking during games among other tales of discontent, and ultimately leaving the franchise to fix itself amid the tumult that accompanies replacing the manager and general manager tandem that had worked together for eight years.

At the start, they seemed set up to handle things just fine. The succession plan was so neatly in place that mere hours after Theo Epstein announced he'd become president of the Chicago Cubs, Boston said Ben Cherington would assume his duties as general manager after having been groomed for that promotion. The expectation was that the transition would be seamless — so much so that Meriden's Cherington even had a head start on his first task, having spent weeks with Epstein culling together a list of managerial candidates to fill the vacancy left by Terry Francona.

But it wasn't quite so simple. And it never would be over an offseason in which the organization struggled to establish a plan for its immediate future, or at least stick to one.

There were times when the Sox set their course and executed accordingly. When he got the job, Cherington said he would add depth to his starting rotation by adding low-cost castoffs in bulk. He did. He also said he'd fill a need in right field with complementary pieces who could share the job or even platoon. He did that, too.

What was concerning, though, was the inconsistent direction of the team's dealings beyond that low-profile hole-plugging. With the way last season ended, Red Sox Nation wanted evidence the front office was working as a unified front with a focused purpose. It needed proof the course had been carefully plotted, and that the club's leadership had enough conviction to see that plan through together.

Instead, those concerns have only been intensified — starting with the protracted managerial search that raised still-to-be-answered questions about Cherington's authority. Remember, that process began with the Sox publicly identifying five candidates, then making no secret of the front runner when it came time for Dale Sveum to interview with ownership, but finished with them ultimately choosing someone different altogether when they finally hired Bobby Valentine two months after opening their quest.

Valentine met the qualifications Cherington had initially outlined. And stints in Texas and New York gave ownership the experience it was looking for. But because they'd allowed the process to play out so publicly, and because it dragged on so long, it became apparent to many that the Sox didn't know what they were shooting for.

At the least, their target seemed to be moving. At the worst, Cherington's choice had been strong-armed by his higher-ups. Either way, it emitted the perception that the team either didn't have a plan.

And it wouldn't be the last time that perception appeared to be a reality.

Another came more recently. On Jan. 21 — less than a month from the start of spring training, and after the limited pool of free agents at that position had run dry — the Sox traded starting shortstop Marco Scutaro to the Rockies for pitcher Clayton Mortenson, a right-handed pitcher unlikely to break camp with the big club in April.

By no means is Scutaro irreplaceable, but after he hit .299 in 2011, the team exercised his $6 million option on Oct. 30. At that point, the plan certainly appeared for him to be Boston's shortstop in 2012.

Accordingly, the player the Sox signed to be the infield backup was Nick Punto, who played only eight games there a season ago. And they asked utility man Mike Aviles to go play winter ball, with specific instructions to work on becoming a viable outfielder. Why not? Scutaro was their shortstop.

But at some point, late, the plan changed. After opting to extend his contract, and after failing to fortify themselves at the position, they sent Scutaro to Colorado in a deal that was supposedly a salary dump to help the Sox avoid paying baseball's luxury tax — but won't actually do that. Even with the trade, Boston's payroll will still go beyond the $178 million tax threshold.

That swap left the Red Sox reeking of a team with no real purpose, no real plan. And, really, offered a much better explanation as to why a year after being heralded as the “Best Team Ever,” the Sox begin this season no better than the fifth-best team in the American League.

It's not about cheapening out, as their payroll will be second-priciest in baseball. It's not about soccer or auto racing. It's not about the money. It's about having failed to map out a clear direction for this franchise.

And unless Cherington can fix that, though the truck may find its way to Florida just fine, the gear inside may not do much good.

Dave D'Onofrio covers the Red Sox for the New Hampshire Union Leader and Sunday News. His e-mail address is ddonof13@gmail.com.