Why Baseball?

January 29, 2008. Just as teams pack up the hot stove and start heading to destinations south, Twins GM Bill Smith finally pulls the trigger on a deal that’s been several months in the making. Two-time Cy Young winner Johan Santana, widely acclaimed as the best pitcher in baseball, heads to the Big Apple for a quartet of young Mets. Deolis Guerra, the 19-year-old pitching prospect, and Phillip Humber, top draft pick returning from Tommy John surgery, exhibit 4,000,001 in the case that there’s no such thing as a pitching prospect. Kevin Mulvey, a righty who went 11-10 in AA the previous year, and Carlos Gomez, who can’t steal first.

Twins fans shake their heads, wanting a do-over on Boston’s offer of Lowrie, Masterton and Ellsbury. It’s not their year anyway, Nathan won’t sign, new ballpark in 2010, etc. Mets fans rejoice—the biggest fish lands in the biggest sea, snatched up by the second-biggest boat. Santana nets himself a huge contract, and everyone knows what it’s for. Be the ace, win the big one. Don’t let this year’s Mets be like last year’s Mets. Don’t be a tired Tom Glavine losing to Florida on the last day, don’t be Jose Reyes’ .279 on base percentage in September. Just win the big one. Come on.

September 25, 2008. Twins and White Sox, the Metrodome in Minneapolis. Playing for the division title? Who saw that coming? The Tigers learn the Mets’ lesson about what happens when you get old (or is that the Mets lesson?), the Indians learn that sometimes it just doesn’t work out the way you drew it up. Chicago’s been in first place for 125 days, but they’re barely holding on just now. Half a game up on Minnesota. Bottom of the eighth, 6-5 White Sox, one out, Carlos Gomez on first, Denard Span batting, Bobby Jenks pitching. During spring training, Denard Span thought he’d beaten Gomez out for the starting job in center; he cried when he got sent to Rochester. Michael Cuddyer broke his finger, though, and Span didn’t look back. Span batting, 0-2 count. Rips the ball down the right field line, fair by inches.

Twins fans, White Sox fans, Mets fans, announcers, ESPN, everyone, just stop right here. Everyone knows that Gomez has struck out 141 times, that his OBP is under .300 and that he got demoted to 9 ^th in the lineup. We know he’s not Torii Hunter, we know the Red Sox had a good offer on the table. We know that Carl Pohlad is a money-grubber and if only he’d spend a little bit more, who knows. We know Livan Hernandez and Mike Lamb and Ron-DL White and Tony Batista and Jeff Cirrillo were big fat mistakes. Just stop it for a minute. Carlos is running. He’s not Johan Santana, but he’s running like a crazy man, and for goodness’ sake, I can’t remember ever loving baseball more than this. The ball’s in the corner, Gomez is possessed, he’s rounding third and no one is even seriously considering throwing him out. Span’s sliding into third, he’s the winning run, and Gomez is sliding, diving, leaping into home. The ball’s nowhere in the vicinity, the catcher isn’t even paying attention to him, but he’s laid out like it’s a slip-and-slide on the Fourth of July. The game’s only tied now, it’s only the eighth inning. Minnesota isn’t in the playoffs, and if they get there, they won’t win the World Series or even the pennant probably, but man, isn’t this some baseball? Did you see Gomez round second? Did you look at his face?

Two days later, Shea Stadium. Second-to-last game in the second-most important baseball stadium that’s closing in New York this month. The Mets are in it but they’re hurting bad, fighting the Brewers off to limp into the playoffs as a lowly wild card. the Mets are chokers, they always blow it, remember last year? All the February shouting has faded away, and it’s time to put up or shut up. Santana’s been Santana, but he hasn’t been Santana . He’s lost seven games. He didn’t get more than three runs from the offense in any of them, but come on, he’s Santana. Be the ace, win the big one. This is the big one right here.  55,000 in the house, the Marlins again, just like ‘07. New York gets an early run, another one in the fourth. Florida gets nothing yet. Santana’s throwing darts, the fastball’s moving, the changeup’s stopping in mid-air. It’s the eighth inning and the Mets offense has stalled. The bullpen sucks. It’s up to you, Johan. Lo Duca, Ramirez, Baker, all gone, 1-2-3. The fans are standing up out of their seats and they go completely bananas. Are you in Shea Stadium right now? Are you watching on TV? It’s a disappointing season, they’re collapsing again, Willie’s long gone, but hey, are you watching this? Santana is the man . Ninth inning, 3-4-5 coming up, come on, we need this. Cantu strikes out, place goes nuts. Willingham doubles, only the third line drive of the game. Is Jerry going to leave him in there? He’d better, it’s Johan. This is what he does, this is his job. Dan Uggla up. Shea is almost dead, it’s got a month left, tops, but it’s on its feet and Santana is on the hill on a beautiful September day. Serious baseball going on here. Strike one, Shea gets noisy. Strike two, more noise. Strike three. Are you watching this? Santana just struck out Uggla with a man on second, when he needed a strikeout. Did you see the fans? Are you a fan, by the way? The last batter flies out and it’s a complete game win, three-hitter, nine strikeouts. Wow, we needed that one.

There will be boos tomorrow at Shea. As you all know, Schoenweis gives up a bomb, the Mets lose and the Brewers get the wild card (did you see Braun hit that homer? Did you see Bernie the Brewer wave that damn flag?). The Twins aren’t in either, not yet, they need the White Sox to lose either Monday or Tuesday. Neither of them are that great, it’s just another game, it’s just another season. But man, isn’t that some baseball?