AFTER a putrid stretch punctuated by a 481-foot bomb off the bat of Manny Ramirez, Cliff Lee jogged off the mound that night in Cleveland — and the Indians told him not to stop until he reached Buffalo. The lefty was in the first year of a $14 million contract extension, and not yet two years removed from a fourth-place finish in American League Cy Young voting. He was nearly 29 years old, and hadn't tossed an inning in the minors since he was 24.

But the Indians didn't care how established he was in the big leagues, how old he was, or how much they were paying him. They saw a pitcher with apparent promise, but with a more immediate and obvious need to fix himself, so they sent him to the farm to figure it out.

Five years later, if he needs any convincing that a trip to Triple-A is in the right-hander's own best interests, the Red Sox should share this story with Daniel Bard.

It's likely he already knows it. Lee's results have made certain of that. A season after being sent down, he returned as a strike-throwing machine, going 22-3 with a 2.54 earned run average en route to winning the Cy in 2008. He received votes for the award in two of the next three years, too, having never posted an ERA worse than 3.22 in any season since he left Buffalo, and the early part of that run earned him a contract with Philadelphia that's guaranteed to be worth at least $120 million.

Logic dictates Bard won't enjoy quite that success, either in his pitching or his paycheck. But his conversion from reliever to starter has reached the point where the Red Sox have no choice but to make the same decision the Indians did, and where the short-term pains of a demotion must be suffered in order to protect the broader best interests of both the player and the team.

What should be the final straw came Sunday in Toronto, when Bard recorded only five outs while walking six, hitting two and surrendering a three-run homer to Jose Bautista. It was about as ugly as could be, however it wasn't completely out of the blue. It was the fourth straight start in which Bard failed to throw more than 5 1/3 innings, and the fifth time in six outings that he walked at least four. At eight, he's tied for the major-league lead in hit batsmen; and he's now walked more hitters (37) than he's struck out (34), which is a big factor in his 5.24 ERA.

Throughout all the wildness and inefficiency, though, Bard repeatedly exhibited the intangible ability to manage the situation. Before Sunday, he'd left with the lead in five of his previous seven starts, and generally he'd managed to — at a minimum — give his team a chance to win the game. That, plus the fact his arm seems to have handled the strain of significantly increased pitch counts, is enough of a reason to think the conversion will eventually prove the right move.

The mentality is there, at least in terms of knowing what a starter's role is supposed to be; but the mechanics are not. And that's why the minors are the ideal — if not only — place for Bard to be. He needs a place where he can tweak and tinker without consequence, and that surely isn't every five days in Boston, where the team has thus far spent exactly one night all season without at least sharing the cellar in the American League East.

He needs to adjust without worrying about results. He needs to focus on repeating his delivery rather than keeping hitters off balance. He needs to throw rather than think. Basically, he needs to find the pitcher who was the man Terry Francona wanted on the mound in the highest-leverage situations a season ago, and forget all the things that have turned that same guy into a pitcher Bobby Valentine barely trusts with the bases empty after a certain point.

“I allowed something to happen when I switched roles,” Bard told reporters on Sunday. “Maybe we tried to turn me into a starter rather than just taking the same pitcher I was out of the pen and moving that guy to the rotation. That's probably what should have been done. It's partially my fault; it's all my fault. It's a matter of getting back to what I had success doing in the past.”

That doesn't simply mean going back to the bullpen, either. The relievers already there are doing the job, and Valentine has found a way to deploy them effectively. They've been great for more than a month now. Plus, Bard's struggles of last September show he's no sure thing when he loses the plate like he has. And with his velocity diminished this season, he's already missing the most lethal weapon in his arsenal.

Valentine said Sunday he wasn't sure what was next for Bard — “I'll think about it a while,” the manager admitted — but there's a convenient solution. In 10 1/3 innings since resuming his rehab assignment after suffering neck soreness, Daisuke Matsuzaka has allowed only one run, three hits and a walk. As long as he comes through tonight's next appearance healthy, he should trade places with Bard and his subsequent start should be in Boston this weekend.

That would mean the soon-to-be-27-year-old Bard will go back to Pawtucket for the first time in three years. But it won't mean he's a lost cause. It won't mean the experiment is a permanent failure. It'll merely mean he needs time to figure things out.

And considering he's still two years younger than Lee was when he was demoted in 2007, the Sox can — and should — give him the time necessary to rewrite his own story.

“We've tried to change too many things,” Bard said. “We just need to get back to being simple.''

Things are never simple in Boston. Even more reason to sort it out elsewhere.

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