Hideki Okajima does talk to the media, just not a lot.

On July 7 Okajima spoke to WEEI.com for just under two minutes about the status of his bad back, and bad performance. By all accounts (otherwise known as Google searches), that was the last utterance of the Red Sox reliever through the media. (Search for "said Okajima, translator, Ryo Shinkawa" and you'll see what I mean.)

Unfortunately, even after the Sox' 4-2 loss to Seattle Sunday, the streak still stands.

The first wave of anxiety in the teams' series finale came courtesy of an eighth-inning meltdown from Okajima, one in which he surrendered five straight singles, mishandled a pair of bunts and left the Red Sox without a lead but with plenty of doubts.

Then came the second flood of frustration.

Even after repeated requests from both English-speaking and Japanese media, Okajima declined comment. Three times in his Red Sox career now the lefty has surrendered as many as five hits in an outing, and, again, by all accounts (and some more Google searches) he didn't talk after either of the previous disasters either.

This has been Okajima's modus operandi. Talk occasionally when not pitching, but rarely speak following outings (especially poor ones). And, like it or not, where the majority of the players in the Red Sox' clubhouse come from, that isn't acceptable.

Many fans and followers of the Red Sox took to Twitter after the latest Red Sox' loss, taking the stand that it shouldn't matter if Okajima spoke after such outings. The points were, for the most part, that the pitcher would offer little insight anyway, so the media shouldn't take issue with such a stance. 

What should be understood is that as frustrated as the media might be with the lack of communication and explanations, it is firmly secondary compared to the impression such tactics leave on Okajima's actual teammates. They are the ones left speaking for a player who served as the impetus for some of the game's most unexplainable moments.

Case in point: When Okajima chose not to explain why he held the ball so long on Casey Kotchman's eighth-inning bunt, it was Adrian Beltre who had to attempt to solve the puzzle rather than get a direct quote from the man who had all the answers.

“Yeah, I was yelling for it. I don’t know why he didn’t throw," Beltre said. "Maybe he didn’t have a good grip or he throught he didn’t have a chance. Did you talk to him?”

He didn't choose to speak, Beltre was informed.

“I don’t really know why he didn’t throw," the third baseman continued. "I thought he had a chance to get him. Maybe he didn’t get a grip or something, I don’t know. It’s something he would only know. “

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The on-the-record comments from the Red Sox players when asked about Okajima's post-game approach will usually be tepid. But the code of a baseball team usually mandates that such transgressions are broached in some way, shape or form.

Language barrier or not. Friend or foe. This is the moment where team leaders make their mark. For example …

Back after giving up three runs in a loss to the Angels on August 17, 2007, reliever Eric Gagne chose to leave Fenway Park before talking to the media even though he was the headliner for the night -- blowing a save and losing the game.

More than a few Red Sox teammates took note.

Almost exactly one month later in Toronto, Gagne suffered through another horrific outing, once again blowing a save while allowing three runs in a single inning. This time he stood at his locker and answered the post-game questions.

"Did Eric talk?" asked one veteran player, pulling a reporter aside to check on the situation. When informed Gagne had spoken, the player nodded his head in approval and confirmed that the reliever had been reminded of his responsibilities.

Many players have had to be nudged. Most haven't had to. The great majority of players understand that if they are involved in a key play, or plays, that shape the game it is expected that they will be in front of their locker to face the music. Jonathan Papelbon always is there, as is Manny Delcarmen, and Daniel Bard.

Heck, even Niuman Romero -- speaking broken English while knowing he was being designated for assignment  just moments earlier -- stood at his Tropicana Field locker and did his best to explain what happened when the Rays intentionally walked David Ortiz three times, leading to Romero being overmatched in key situations in a game earlier this month.

Okajima might never talk after such outings as Sunday afternoon, but it should be noted that when he doesn't it does have an effect. Perhaps this is a time for a team leader to distinguish himself, or maybe this is an opportunity for the reliever to see the error of his ways.

Everybody understands bad outings are unavoidable. Bad decisions, that's another matter. This was a bad decision at a bad time. That is according to the players, not the media that covers them.