And in Minnesota, the last playoff question was answered late this afternoon, when the Indians came up with two insurance runs in the top of the ninth and beat the Twins, 5–2. Thus it’s Minnesota opening against New York on the East Coast and Boston opening against Anaheim on the West,both the day after tomorrow. I’ll be at Fenway for the third game of the Sox-Angels series, and for the fourth, if needed (it probably will be). My heart beats a little faster, just writing that. At this point everything gets magnified, because when the second season ends, it does so either with shocking suddenness or—could it be?—with the sort of success of which Red Sox fans hardly dare dream.
The Twins win the resumption of their suspended game, but then lose to the Indians, making the last Angels-A’s game meaningless (though no less painful to those A’s fans who bothered to show up).
We lose our last game to the O’s (McCarty throws two scoreless, striking out three) and finish 98-64, our best record since 1978. Manny wins the home run and slugging crowns, Schilling has the best won-loss, though it appears the MVP will now go to Vladimir Guerrero for his big September, while Santana should take the Cy Young. Ichiro breaks George Sisler’s all-time record for hits in a season, but, coming for a last-place club, and most of them being singles, it doesn’t wow serious fans; he’s just the new Rod Carew. And the Astros win their final game, snatching the NL wild card from Barry Bonds and the Giants. It’s still possible we’ll see Roger Clemens in the World Series.
SO: So we’ve got Anaheim, and the Twins get their wish. I really think they orchestrated the last week (tanking all three to the Yanks, losing to Cleveland today) to get a rematch with the Yanks in the short series, figuring it’s easier to get them here than in the ALCS. Gardenhire’s no dummy.[65]
October 4th
SK: If we can get past the Angels, I think the world (series) may be ours.
SO: I’m having the same grandiose, bubbles-in-the-blood thoughts, and rightfully: it’s a whole new season. Hope springs eternal.
So who’s going to be left off the playoff roster? It’s like spring training—all these guys vying for the very last spots. For the pitchers, I’d take Mendoza over Leskanic, Williamson and Adams; he’s been more consistent, Leskanic can get wild, Williamson’s not 100% and Adams stinks. And who gets the nod for the last position player, McCarty or Mientkiewicz? I’m for McCarty: more pop, just as good a glove, and he’s got the arm to play the outfield in a pinch. I think we’ve got to keep Kapler, Roberts and Pokey for D and speed, and Youk for a stick off the bench, but management might surprise me.
As a Rock Cats fan, I want to believe in the Twins. I like that they’re going right after them, but if the Yanks can beat Santana just once (or closer Joe Nathan in one of those starts), they’re cooked. My hope is they split in the Stadium, then turn on that Metrodome jet-stream air-conditioning and let thermodynamics do the rest.
SK: I’m for Mientkiewicz, mostly because I’ve finally learned how to spell his name (actually because he’s just gotten hot at the plate). I like Curtis “The Mechanic” because I think he’s clutch and I don’t think Mendoza is…and in the end, in the pen, it’s gonna come down to the tragickal Mr. Lowe. I hope we don’t have to depend on him too much! The guy I really want to see on that roster—but may not—is the Greek God of Walks.
SO: Yup, as in last year’s division series, our fate may rest in the shaky hands of Mr. Lowe. But that’s the playoffs: maximum stress finding the weakest link.
The ALDS
SOMEBODY GOT-TA PAY
October 5th/ALDS Game 1
Twenty minutes before game time, the Sox announce their ALDS roster. Youk, Mientkiewicz and Leskanic made the squad. Mendoza and McCarty didn’t.
I try to take a nap before the 4:09 EDT start of the first Division Series game out in Anaheim and can’t do it. I’m not really surprised. Too many butterflies. That may sound stupid, but I’d argue there’s nothing stupid about it at all. The hell of spectating—a thing I’ve had to rediscover during several Octobers (although never enough)—is that when it comes to baseball, spectating is all I can do. The script is out of my hands.
Instead of a nap I settle for a brisk walk. I’ve got a bad hip as a result of an accident, but I ignore its protests of this unwonted late-afternoon exercise. My youngest son rescues me before it can really start to bellow, picking me up in his Jetta and taking me back to the house, where we settle with sodas, pizza, cookies and a homemade scorecard. Owen also has a crossword puzzle in which he tries (with varying degrees of success) to bury himself, admitting he can barely bring himself to watch the Angels bat, especially after the Red Sox secure a slim one-run lead on a suspect Manny Ramirez double (an
As it turned out, Owen and I didn’t have to worry, [66] although the game remained close until the top of the fourth, and twice in the early going the Angels jockeyed the tying run into scoring position. Then, in the aforementioned fourth inning, Boston staged one of those multirun outbursts that characterized so many of their wins in August and September.Ortiz walked; Millar hit him home with a moonshot to left; Varitek singled; Orlando “I Know Every Team Handshake in the Universe” Cabrera walked; after Bill Mueller struck out, Gabe Kapler hit a single to short left field. Bases juiced, one out, Johnny Damon at the plate. And here’s your play of the game, brought to you by Charles Scribner’s, the publisher that made New York famous.
Johnny Damon, who hits Angels starter Jarrod Washburn about as well as toads do algebra, directs a seemingly harmless ground ball to Chone Figgins, a utility fielder today playing third for the Halos. Figgins double-pumps, then throws the ball to a location somewhere between home plate and the guy selling Sports Bars in the box seats to the left of the Angels’ dugout. Varitek and Cabrera score. One batter later, Manny Ramirez goes
Father Curt was far from his best today, but the Angels—pretty much stuck with Washburn as a result of having clinched on the second-to-last day of the season—were not able to steal Game 1, as I’m sure they hoped to. The question, I think, is whether they are now blown out from their gallop to the divisional title, or if they will bounce back with Bartolo (as in Colon) tomorrow night. My son says they’ll bounce. If they’re going to, they had better get to Pedro fast or hope Terry Francona repeats the past and leaves him in too long. If neither of those things happen, then—to quote my collaborator, Mr. O’Nan—the Anaheim Angels are very likely going to be gone like Enron, toast on the coast.
SO: So we’re guaranteed the split. And if Petey takes care of business, we could be sitting pretty.
When’s the last time you saw the Sox squeeze in a run? Nice timing by Mientkiewicz (though McCarty, with
