About Last Night
How the Cardinals and Rangers played an epic in front of no one
While sitting intently on my couch last night, watching Ron Washington hop around like he got into the Halloween stash early, spotting the exact moments in the game when Tony La Russa either popped or grew ulcers and marking the points in Joe Buck's play by play when he had to fight his inner Cardinals fan from exploding in jubilation, a thought crept into my mind that I haven't been able to shake: this was the best World Series game since game 6 of the 2002 fall classic. I'm hoping my memory has failed me, because between Giants-Angels and the current classic, there have been eight other championships contested and while I can remember boxscores, the only images I really remember are the champagne showers or the last out leaps. But I can tell you in '02, Russ Ortiz didn't want to come out of that game, Dusty Baker had a look on his face that said, "well, I've made the walk to the mound, I can't just
not make a pitching change." Scott Spiezio faced a hundred pitches, I'm pretty sure, before hitting a wall scraper of a three run home run. There was a monkey in an Angels uniform jumping up and down every other inning.
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| It is, indeed, rally time. |
Such was the epicness of last night's game 6 between the Cardinals and the Rangers. It's the kind of game that will be remembered in images, not boxscores. And, unfortunately it suffers the same fate as '02 game 6: no one was really watching it. It's like the election montage from
Gangs of New York, where a couple thousand more people voted than were actually alive. More people will say they saw game 6 than the ratings suggest. Which is a shame, because most people missed the moment this World Series went from deceptively good to over the top kickass.
Where to begin? How about the absurdity of the Cardinals twice being down to their season's last strike. Just think about it for a second: a season's worth of baseball, 162+ games, nine months, thousands of at-bats and a couple thousand more pitches faced were reduced to a baseball crossing any point across a 17-inch width between the knees and belly button. Twice. Yet for no conventional reason, the Cardinals are still playing baseball in the 2011 season.
Speaking of unconventional, the hottest hitter on the Redbirds, Lance Berkman, looks more like an ice road trucker than a right fielder. He was washed up and out last year. But the Puma came up big yet again, keeping the rally going in the ninth and saving St. Louis for the second time in the 10th, his two out softball swing single driving in the tying run in extras. Berkman was an after-thought this time last year. Don't bet against a Puma.
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| Pictured: Lance Berkman in the offseason. |
And for those of us watching, I'm sure you may have caught the now well-known anecdote about how David Freese, local Missouri boy-turned big ballclub third basemen, quit baseball at the end of high school, only to find himself playing off World Series Game 6 in appropriate fashion: a towering blast to straight center into the midwestern night. Dreams are made of this and legends are born from that, or so it goes.
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| Freese frame: David Freese rounding the bases after the game winning HR. RIP his jersey. |
It's hard to think on September 1st, the mumbling in Missouri was focused on the future of Albert Pujols as a Cardinal, the playoffs more of a "wait til next year" prospect. A World Series? Ask the Rangers about that, not us.
And yet, you gotta ask: what's the bigger story from a glorious game? The Cardinals staring down the barrel and smiling or the Rangers looking down the sights and blinking? Because yes, the Cardinals were twice a strike away from losing the series, but that means the Rangers were twice a strike away from rising to the highest pedestal in North American baseball (and, with little argument, the world.) Suddenly, Ron Washington's dugout antics have gone from sincere to silly, from unadultered jubilation to reflective of a juvenile adult. Many who backed him just a day ago are now comparing him to Bob Brenly, the less than reputable Diamondbacks manager, who in 2001 checked off the names "Johnson" and "Schilling" every day and tried not to look too confused in the dugout. Washington burning a pinch hitter for his best reliever in the 11th when scoring a run seemed pretty unlikely is now a bigger gaffe than the three or four Tony La Russa has made in the World Series. Hero to goat in one night flat.
And by all accounts, the Rangers have lost this one. It's nothing but gloom and doom for the Metroplex Mashers, dazed repetition of "one strike twice" clogging up a locker room that was twice taped up for the impending triumphant champagne shower. If the Rangers lose this series, it brings us back to the foundation of the pro game: baseball is cruel, and there's no crying in it. Nolan Ryan's not buying a set of "we almost did it" rings.
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| Former genius (or future genius) Ron Washington. |
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Last night felt like that ad campaign FOX set up for the postseason a few years ago, "You can't script October," was actually put into the spirit of competition by Bud Selig. It was exciting, thrilling and tense. But it probably had less viewers in its first half than CBS'
Person of Interest, another show in the "exciting, thrilling, tense" category. This is a postseason that has regularly pulled in less viewers than NFL pregame shows. Not enough people were watching the Cardinals save their season and/or the Rangers blow theirs. And it sucks because you might just have missed the definitive World Series game of the next decade. Are you ready for 10 years of laughing nervously when your baseball buddies ask if you remember the rally squirrel? But hey, redemption is a game 7 away. For the Rangers and the fans.
Comments are much appreciated, particularly for you big game historians who can jog my memory of the last eight or so fall classics. Got a memorable game that I forgot about? Leave it in the comments.
