When I was a kid, baseball was played with two eight-league teams, the American and the National. The team that did the best in each league was said to have "won the pennant" and would meet each other in the World Series. Sometimes, the battle for first place went down to the final day of the season, and, very rarely, two teams in each league ended the season in a dead-heat tie, necessitating a one-game playoff in the American League (Cleveland vs. Boston in 1948) and a two-out of three in the National League (Brooklyn vs. the New York Giants in 1951).
What happened on Wednesday was just as rare, and far more exciting. It was, in fact, one of the most thrilling days in regular season baseball history. Although I was never a fan of the wild card, I recognize that it can add an exciting component to the season's end especially when, as here, two teams in each league were tied with identical records. (As you read on, keep that 1951 Giants-Dodgers game in mind, for the 2011 season was to end with a walk-off home run second only to Bobby Thompson's "shot heard 'round the world.")
What made the day even more interesting is that the two teams that had commanding leads in the wild card race at the beginning of September (the Atlanta Braves were 8 1/2 games over the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Boston Red Sox were a full 9 games in front of the Tampa Bay Rays) had squandered those leads and were on the verge of losing their bids for the wild card. The odds of either of these teams losing such leads were remote; that both of them would do so was almost beyond comprehension. And yet, that is precisely where we found ourselves on September 28th. But even then, Boston and Atlanta would have been assured of of a one-game playoff the next day, unless they both lost and Tampa Bay and St. Louis won. Although St. Louis had won their game decisively (and knew they faced no worse than a tie with Atlanta), the Braves were locked in a nail biting, extra inning struggle that did not end until the 13th inning. When the Phillies scored the decisive run, the Braves were sent back to Atlanta, their season over. The Braves, by the way, had been within one out of victory, something that set the stage for what was yet to happen in the American League.
Boston had split the first two games of the season-ending series with the last place Baltimore Orioles. In the "rubber game" Boston had started one of their best pitchers, John Lester, on short rest, but he was in top form. Lester is an admirable man and remarkable pitcher, having not only overcome cancer, but returning to be one of the best starting pitchers in the game. Baltimore had nothing to lose, and were playing only for their pride. As the last team in their division, they seemed to relish the role of spoiler. Few people were unaware that the O's manager, Buck Showalter, had once managed the Yankees, and Bench Coach (and fomer Mets' manager) Willie Randolph had been a star second baseman for the Yankees throughout most of his distinguished career. Neither had any love lost for the Boston Red Sox.
The inevitable scoreboard watching gave the faithful of Red Sox Nation even more cause for comfort: their strange bedfellows, the New York Yankees (normally fierce rivals) were well on their way to assuring the Sox no less than a season-ending tie with the Rays, and the Sox were rooting for the Bombers to shut down the resurgent Rays. The Yankees were coasting to victory over the Rays, up 7-0, through seven innings, a seemingly insurmountable lead. The Red Sox, too, could glimpse victory, up 3-2 in the middle of the seventh inning, when a rain delay put their game on hold. A Red Sox victory (coupled with Tampa Bay's inevitable loss) would have eliminated the Rays and given the Red Sox the wild card birth they had so nearly blown. As Boston sat through the nearly hour and a half of rain, they (must have) watched in disbelief while the Rays came back with six runs in the bottom of the eighth inning. By now, more than half the Yankee starting team was out of the game, and the Yanks had no desire to tire their trio of late-inning relievers to preserve a game of no real consequence (to them). This is not to suggest that the Yanks didn't try hard to win. You simply can't play 12-innings without a considerable effort. Those who fault them for not having Robertson or Rivera pitch the 8th and the 9th are in need of reality therapy. I think that all the teams that played on that final day (whether it "mattered" to them or not) reflected well on the professionalism of the game of baseball. But back to the game. The Yankees brought in Corey Wade to pitch the 9th, and he got two outs and two strikes on pinch-hitter Dan Johnson. When Yankee announcer commented that Johnson "had a lot of power and could hit the long ball," I laughed to myself as I looked at his meager record in 2011: one home run and a .108 batting average. ( .108 is simply beyond pathetic; something no National League pitcher would take pride in.) I had forgotten that just a year ago, the same Dan Johnson had hit two homers against the Yanks in a 4-3 Rays' victory. In any event, Johnson came through again with a home run in a move that made Rays' manager Joe Maddon look like the genius he is. By the time play resumed in Baltimore, It was now 7-7 in the Bronx, and going into the 10th inning. By now, journeyman reliever Scott Proctor, back for a second tour of duty with the Yankees was on the mound and would remain for the duration.
Boston meanwhile, having won the night before, was on the verge of winning consecutive games, something they hadn't done in the entire month of September. For a team that had dominated all baseball for much of the season, this, too, was hard to believe. But Lester, working on short rest, struggled manfully through six innings, and left the game with a 3-2 lead, and the appreciation of both his team and its devoted fan base. Although the Red Sox missed two golden opportunities to increase their lead (one a base-running error by the otherwise excellent Marco Scutaro in the 8th, which led to him being thrown out at the plate, and substitute catcher Ryan Lavarnway's hitting into a bases-loaded double play with with one out in the 9th), closer Jonathan Papelbon (one of the game's very best relievers) struck out the first two Orioles he faced, and got to within one strike of securing a Red Sox win (and with it the certainty of ending the day in no worse a position than tied for the wild card). What happened next seemed so fast as to have not been possible. Bang, a double by Chris Davis. Bang, a double by Nolan Reimhold scoring pinch-runner Kyle Hudson to tie the score, and bang, a game-winning sinking liner to left by Robert Andino, bouncing just out of the clutches of the disappointing (and disappointed) Carl Crawford. The lowly Baltimore Orioles celebrated as if they had won the wild card, rather than spoiling another's chances of doing so. The Red Sox, up 'til then had been 76-0 when leading after the 8th inning, but--of course--records like that never last forever. Without a moment's pause, beleaguered manager Terry Francona turned on his heels and descended into the visitor's locker room.
Everything now was up to the Yankees, who hadn't blown a 7-0 lead in the 8th inning since 1953 (the year, by the way, in which they were to win their 5th consecutive World Series). Proctor pitched well through the 10th and 11th, but there was no one left to replace him when Tampa Bay star Evan Longoria led off the 12th with a line drive home run barely clearing the left field fence and foul pole, an almost mirror-image of Dan Johnson's 9th-inning game tying shot. (This has been compared as second only to Bobby Thompson's 1951 game-winner homer, but I think the Thompson home run is still way in front.) For a relatively slow-moving game (compared to, say, basketball or football) a lot of crucial things occurred in a very short period of time, almost one on top of the other. In a span of less than half an hour, the Atlanta Braves had lost their extra-inning quest for the wild card, the Baltimore Orioles came from behind to beat the Red Sox, and the Rays, as the cliche goes, snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. These were three strory-book finishes, each less likely than the one before. Within minutes of the Braves setting the record for the greatest September collapse in baseball history, that unenviable achievement was eclipsed by the hapless Red Sox.
In the interest of full disclosure, it must be recalled that the Red Sox, despite their well-publicized losses in critical games (often at the hands of the Yankees), turned the tables on the Yankees in 2004 by coming back from a 3-0 deficit in the ALCS to not only win the pennant, but go on to trounce the Cardinals in a four-game World Series sweep. I must admit, I went into a two-week funk, something hardly becoming in a man of my years. Was 2004 a worse collapse than those of the Braves and Red Sox? Probably, but the pain for their fans is more than likely the same. What was saddest of all was the dismissal of Terry Francona, the only Red Sox manager to have won a World Series for the Sox since 1918--and he won two, one in 2004, the other in '07. Francona was a good manager and a classy guy, who deserved better.
Most importantly, we sometimes need to remind ourselves that the reason we root for teams is because sports is (supposed to be) a pleasant distraction from our real lives. Sports only "matters" if we choose to let it. When I listen to fans at both Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium, screaming out that the Yankees or Red Sox "suck," I think they are missing the point (not to mention being bad sports). You're supposed to be rooting for your team, not against the other. In point of fact, these two teams not only don't "suck," but have pretty consistently been ranked among the top teams in the game.
And so, the season may have ended for the Red Sox and the Braves, but disappointments await seven of the eight teams now engaged in the playoffs. Four of the eight will see their seasons end in a matter of days. Ultimately, of course, there can be but one winner. But that's baseball, and--as Ecclesiastes tells us--to everything there is a season. But year from now, people will recall the end of the 2011 season as one of the most exciting they will ever have witnessed. And for that, every fan can take pride in what is, after all, a great game.
What happened on Wednesday was just as rare, and far more exciting. It was, in fact, one of the most thrilling days in regular season baseball history. Although I was never a fan of the wild card, I recognize that it can add an exciting component to the season's end especially when, as here, two teams in each league were tied with identical records. (As you read on, keep that 1951 Giants-Dodgers game in mind, for the 2011 season was to end with a walk-off home run second only to Bobby Thompson's "shot heard 'round the world.")
What made the day even more interesting is that the two teams that had commanding leads in the wild card race at the beginning of September (the Atlanta Braves were 8 1/2 games over the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Boston Red Sox were a full 9 games in front of the Tampa Bay Rays) had squandered those leads and were on the verge of losing their bids for the wild card. The odds of either of these teams losing such leads were remote; that both of them would do so was almost beyond comprehension. And yet, that is precisely where we found ourselves on September 28th. But even then, Boston and Atlanta would have been assured of of a one-game playoff the next day, unless they both lost and Tampa Bay and St. Louis won. Although St. Louis had won their game decisively (and knew they faced no worse than a tie with Atlanta), the Braves were locked in a nail biting, extra inning struggle that did not end until the 13th inning. When the Phillies scored the decisive run, the Braves were sent back to Atlanta, their season over. The Braves, by the way, had been within one out of victory, something that set the stage for what was yet to happen in the American League.
Boston had split the first two games of the season-ending series with the last place Baltimore Orioles. In the "rubber game" Boston had started one of their best pitchers, John Lester, on short rest, but he was in top form. Lester is an admirable man and remarkable pitcher, having not only overcome cancer, but returning to be one of the best starting pitchers in the game. Baltimore had nothing to lose, and were playing only for their pride. As the last team in their division, they seemed to relish the role of spoiler. Few people were unaware that the O's manager, Buck Showalter, had once managed the Yankees, and Bench Coach (and fomer Mets' manager) Willie Randolph had been a star second baseman for the Yankees throughout most of his distinguished career. Neither had any love lost for the Boston Red Sox.
The inevitable scoreboard watching gave the faithful of Red Sox Nation even more cause for comfort: their strange bedfellows, the New York Yankees (normally fierce rivals) were well on their way to assuring the Sox no less than a season-ending tie with the Rays, and the Sox were rooting for the Bombers to shut down the resurgent Rays. The Yankees were coasting to victory over the Rays, up 7-0, through seven innings, a seemingly insurmountable lead. The Red Sox, too, could glimpse victory, up 3-2 in the middle of the seventh inning, when a rain delay put their game on hold. A Red Sox victory (coupled with Tampa Bay's inevitable loss) would have eliminated the Rays and given the Red Sox the wild card birth they had so nearly blown. As Boston sat through the nearly hour and a half of rain, they (must have) watched in disbelief while the Rays came back with six runs in the bottom of the eighth inning. By now, more than half the Yankee starting team was out of the game, and the Yanks had no desire to tire their trio of late-inning relievers to preserve a game of no real consequence (to them). This is not to suggest that the Yanks didn't try hard to win. You simply can't play 12-innings without a considerable effort. Those who fault them for not having Robertson or Rivera pitch the 8th and the 9th are in need of reality therapy. I think that all the teams that played on that final day (whether it "mattered" to them or not) reflected well on the professionalism of the game of baseball. But back to the game. The Yankees brought in Corey Wade to pitch the 9th, and he got two outs and two strikes on pinch-hitter Dan Johnson. When Yankee announcer commented that Johnson "had a lot of power and could hit the long ball," I laughed to myself as I looked at his meager record in 2011: one home run and a .108 batting average. ( .108 is simply beyond pathetic; something no National League pitcher would take pride in.) I had forgotten that just a year ago, the same Dan Johnson had hit two homers against the Yanks in a 4-3 Rays' victory. In any event, Johnson came through again with a home run in a move that made Rays' manager Joe Maddon look like the genius he is. By the time play resumed in Baltimore, It was now 7-7 in the Bronx, and going into the 10th inning. By now, journeyman reliever Scott Proctor, back for a second tour of duty with the Yankees was on the mound and would remain for the duration.
Boston meanwhile, having won the night before, was on the verge of winning consecutive games, something they hadn't done in the entire month of September. For a team that had dominated all baseball for much of the season, this, too, was hard to believe. But Lester, working on short rest, struggled manfully through six innings, and left the game with a 3-2 lead, and the appreciation of both his team and its devoted fan base. Although the Red Sox missed two golden opportunities to increase their lead (one a base-running error by the otherwise excellent Marco Scutaro in the 8th, which led to him being thrown out at the plate, and substitute catcher Ryan Lavarnway's hitting into a bases-loaded double play with with one out in the 9th), closer Jonathan Papelbon (one of the game's very best relievers) struck out the first two Orioles he faced, and got to within one strike of securing a Red Sox win (and with it the certainty of ending the day in no worse a position than tied for the wild card). What happened next seemed so fast as to have not been possible. Bang, a double by Chris Davis. Bang, a double by Nolan Reimhold scoring pinch-runner Kyle Hudson to tie the score, and bang, a game-winning sinking liner to left by Robert Andino, bouncing just out of the clutches of the disappointing (and disappointed) Carl Crawford. The lowly Baltimore Orioles celebrated as if they had won the wild card, rather than spoiling another's chances of doing so. The Red Sox, up 'til then had been 76-0 when leading after the 8th inning, but--of course--records like that never last forever. Without a moment's pause, beleaguered manager Terry Francona turned on his heels and descended into the visitor's locker room.
Everything now was up to the Yankees, who hadn't blown a 7-0 lead in the 8th inning since 1953 (the year, by the way, in which they were to win their 5th consecutive World Series). Proctor pitched well through the 10th and 11th, but there was no one left to replace him when Tampa Bay star Evan Longoria led off the 12th with a line drive home run barely clearing the left field fence and foul pole, an almost mirror-image of Dan Johnson's 9th-inning game tying shot. (This has been compared as second only to Bobby Thompson's 1951 game-winner homer, but I think the Thompson home run is still way in front.) For a relatively slow-moving game (compared to, say, basketball or football) a lot of crucial things occurred in a very short period of time, almost one on top of the other. In a span of less than half an hour, the Atlanta Braves had lost their extra-inning quest for the wild card, the Baltimore Orioles came from behind to beat the Red Sox, and the Rays, as the cliche goes, snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. These were three strory-book finishes, each less likely than the one before. Within minutes of the Braves setting the record for the greatest September collapse in baseball history, that unenviable achievement was eclipsed by the hapless Red Sox.
In the interest of full disclosure, it must be recalled that the Red Sox, despite their well-publicized losses in critical games (often at the hands of the Yankees), turned the tables on the Yankees in 2004 by coming back from a 3-0 deficit in the ALCS to not only win the pennant, but go on to trounce the Cardinals in a four-game World Series sweep. I must admit, I went into a two-week funk, something hardly becoming in a man of my years. Was 2004 a worse collapse than those of the Braves and Red Sox? Probably, but the pain for their fans is more than likely the same. What was saddest of all was the dismissal of Terry Francona, the only Red Sox manager to have won a World Series for the Sox since 1918--and he won two, one in 2004, the other in '07. Francona was a good manager and a classy guy, who deserved better.
Most importantly, we sometimes need to remind ourselves that the reason we root for teams is because sports is (supposed to be) a pleasant distraction from our real lives. Sports only "matters" if we choose to let it. When I listen to fans at both Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium, screaming out that the Yankees or Red Sox "suck," I think they are missing the point (not to mention being bad sports). You're supposed to be rooting for your team, not against the other. In point of fact, these two teams not only don't "suck," but have pretty consistently been ranked among the top teams in the game.
And so, the season may have ended for the Red Sox and the Braves, but disappointments await seven of the eight teams now engaged in the playoffs. Four of the eight will see their seasons end in a matter of days. Ultimately, of course, there can be but one winner. But that's baseball, and--as Ecclesiastes tells us--to everything there is a season. But year from now, people will recall the end of the 2011 season as one of the most exciting they will ever have witnessed. And for that, every fan can take pride in what is, after all, a great game.
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