(transferred; posted Oct. 28)
Every 93 years or so, a rookie pitcher wins Game Seven in the World Series. You could look it up. John Lackey was better than Livan Hernandez, Darin Erstad made one of his spectacular catches, Garret Anderson delivered the expected clutch double, and the bullpen did its job under extreme pressure. The better team won; the more deserving team won. Baseball won, with another exciting finale. Last night didn't match Saturday for sheer drama -- how could it? -- but it was a well-played, intense contest.
Credit Barry Bonds for carrying his team as far as he did, and while Troy Glaus (especially in Game Six) may have been the most heroic Angel, the concept of an MVP award has, unfortunately, been lost. Team success has a higher priority than individual excellence among the morons who vote for such honours. Like Alex Rodriguez in the AL regular season, Bonds was clearly the best player in the Series, but a .700 OBP and 1.294 SLG fails to penetrate the thick skulls of the media if it doesn't coincide with victory. Can Barry help it if LVP candidates Sanders, Shinjo and Goodwin are teammates? Can A-Rod singlehandedly overcome the absence of any big-league pitching on his club? While I'm digressing, ya gotta love a Commissioner who can't pronounce "his" MVP's name.
Bill Stoneman is uncomfortable taking credit, which could be why he rarely gets any. His acquisition of Kevin Appier for Mo Vaughn improved the offence, defence and rotation; look where that deal got the Mets. Ape was snake-bit in the playoffs, but without him, the Angels wouldn't have been there. Scott Spiezio made his GM look like a genius with a career year, plus 19 RBI in the playoffs, and magnificent glove work where big Mo once stumbled around. Stoney, former multiple-no-hit ace of Les Expos, scooped his new 1B from the A's, supposedly the Mensa of organizations, and had enough vision to install Mike Scioscia as his manager.
Unlike the Giants, who have no idea if their GM, skipper, cleanup hitter or cute bat boys will be back next spring, Anaheim has a team built to last. There's no rush to dump Tim Salmon or Troy Percival, but for economic reasons, and with replacements available, they must eventually move on. Washburn, Ortiz and Lackey have many good years left; Sele and Appier were never more than short-term rentals, and are gone when better options are located. That's it -- no major changes are anticipated or necessary, and in the game's best division, the Angels should be perennial contenders.
Who knows why we "adopt" a team? It's as simple as geography for some; root, root, root for the home team. Sometimes it's history -- when I was a kid, Toronto's AAA Maple Leafs were Boston's farm club, so with guys like George Scott, Reggie Smith and Jim Lonborg leading the Miracle of '67, I loved the Red Sox. It can even be math; teams that play "little ball" annoy statheads. Maybe it's colour preference, as I've always liked the Cardinals, and my Blue Jays have those crimson highlights and spiffy Canada Day outfits. Forget black hats and white hats, give me red uniforms.
Consciously, I want (need?) dysfunctional clubs to lose. Inept organizations -- Tampa, Detroit, Baltimore, K.C., both Chicago franchises and others -- get what they deserve. Over-managing is a pet peeve; arrogant, selfish jerks in uniform is another. There's no reason (other than hating the Disney corporation, or Thunder-Stix, or capuchin monkeys) to dislike the Angels. Loads of talent, no prima donnas, and an admirable tendency to pick each other up instead of pointing fingers. Quiet competence and leadership in the dugout and front office. Their success validates qualities I admire.
Does that mean if the bickering, babysitting, geriatric Giants had won, my entire baseball philosophy would be wrong? Of course not. I'd simply be disappointed, rather than delighted, and trotting out excuses instead of praise.
Every 93 years or so, a rookie pitcher wins Game Seven in the World Series. You could look it up. John Lackey was better than Livan Hernandez, Darin Erstad made one of his spectacular catches, Garret Anderson delivered the expected clutch double, and the bullpen did its job under extreme pressure. The better team won; the more deserving team won. Baseball won, with another exciting finale. Last night didn't match Saturday for sheer drama -- how could it? -- but it was a well-played, intense contest.
Credit Barry Bonds for carrying his team as far as he did, and while Troy Glaus (especially in Game Six) may have been the most heroic Angel, the concept of an MVP award has, unfortunately, been lost. Team success has a higher priority than individual excellence among the morons who vote for such honours. Like Alex Rodriguez in the AL regular season, Bonds was clearly the best player in the Series, but a .700 OBP and 1.294 SLG fails to penetrate the thick skulls of the media if it doesn't coincide with victory. Can Barry help it if LVP candidates Sanders, Shinjo and Goodwin are teammates? Can A-Rod singlehandedly overcome the absence of any big-league pitching on his club? While I'm digressing, ya gotta love a Commissioner who can't pronounce "his" MVP's name.
Bill Stoneman is uncomfortable taking credit, which could be why he rarely gets any. His acquisition of Kevin Appier for Mo Vaughn improved the offence, defence and rotation; look where that deal got the Mets. Ape was snake-bit in the playoffs, but without him, the Angels wouldn't have been there. Scott Spiezio made his GM look like a genius with a career year, plus 19 RBI in the playoffs, and magnificent glove work where big Mo once stumbled around. Stoney, former multiple-no-hit ace of Les Expos, scooped his new 1B from the A's, supposedly the Mensa of organizations, and had enough vision to install Mike Scioscia as his manager.
Unlike the Giants, who have no idea if their GM, skipper, cleanup hitter or cute bat boys will be back next spring, Anaheim has a team built to last. There's no rush to dump Tim Salmon or Troy Percival, but for economic reasons, and with replacements available, they must eventually move on. Washburn, Ortiz and Lackey have many good years left; Sele and Appier were never more than short-term rentals, and are gone when better options are located. That's it -- no major changes are anticipated or necessary, and in the game's best division, the Angels should be perennial contenders.
Who knows why we "adopt" a team? It's as simple as geography for some; root, root, root for the home team. Sometimes it's history -- when I was a kid, Toronto's AAA Maple Leafs were Boston's farm club, so with guys like George Scott, Reggie Smith and Jim Lonborg leading the Miracle of '67, I loved the Red Sox. It can even be math; teams that play "little ball" annoy statheads. Maybe it's colour preference, as I've always liked the Cardinals, and my Blue Jays have those crimson highlights and spiffy Canada Day outfits. Forget black hats and white hats, give me red uniforms.
Consciously, I want (need?) dysfunctional clubs to lose. Inept organizations -- Tampa, Detroit, Baltimore, K.C., both Chicago franchises and others -- get what they deserve. Over-managing is a pet peeve; arrogant, selfish jerks in uniform is another. There's no reason (other than hating the Disney corporation, or Thunder-Stix, or capuchin monkeys) to dislike the Angels. Loads of talent, no prima donnas, and an admirable tendency to pick each other up instead of pointing fingers. Quiet competence and leadership in the dugout and front office. Their success validates qualities I admire.
Does that mean if the bickering, babysitting, geriatric Giants had won, my entire baseball philosophy would be wrong? Of course not. I'd simply be disappointed, rather than delighted, and trotting out excuses instead of praise.
