The Yanks took far more balls per plate appearance than any other playoff team, but relatively few strikes. That’s a sign of a mature, disciplined team. Taking bad pitches could be especially beneficial against the Red Sox: Boston’s two best starters, Pedro Martinez and Derek Lowe, are not known for their stamina, and the bullpen is in tatters between Byung-Hyun Kim’s breakdown and their heavy use in the Oakland series. Knocking Pedro out an inning earlier because of higher pitch counts could well be a game-winning strategy. Despite their refined approach at the plate, the Yankees don’t have a better offense than the Red Sox, who outscored them by nearly 100 runs during the regular season. The Sox remain the best offense in baseball, with a lineup that has absolutely no weaknesses in it. Both of these teams have the capability to knock a starter out early and put up crooked numbers in multiple innings. Even if you don’t want to get into the numbers, think only about the two main criticisms of these offenses over the course of the year: Yankees: “Alfonso Soriano isn’t suited to hit leadoff.” Red Sox: “Walker, Ortiz, and Nixon can’t hit lefties.” Think about that. The problem for the Yankees is that the leadoff guy has too many extra-base hits, and too few walks. The Red Sox somehow have to work around the issue that their three worst hitters, who average about a .950 OPS against righties, don’t hit lefties particularly well. Think the Tiger front office would like those problems?
When the season begins each spring, the ivy on the outfield wall at Wrigley Field is not a lush green, but a vine-bare patch of brick and brown. Botany is not among my hobbies, and I do not know whether this condition results from some half-intentional negligence, or the natural distaste of Parthenocissus tricuspidata for the cool Midwestern spring. But in either event, the effect is unsettling: that feeling you get in a dream when you see a place familiar but vaguely and profoundly incomplete. That was the feeling I had on Friday night when I walked through Gate F at Clark and Addison Streets and into the nation’s most beloved ballpark. Though the architecture of Wrigley Field is the same as always–an array of ascending ramps, chain-linked fences, city vistas, and dank inner concourses pierced by streaks of evening sunlight–the atmosphere is palpably different. Gone are the rowdies, the drunks, the tourists; present instead is the eerie timbre of quiet before battle. It is the playoffs, the third game of the first series against the Atlanta Braves, and whether owning to the somber, rainy weather, the melancholy brought on by raised expectations, or, more likely, the Trans-Atlantic airline fares that have passed as market rates for scalped tickets, these fans were here to win.
For Game Five of the ALDS, the Red Sox, despite facing one of the toughest portsiders in the game, trotted out Trot Nixon, Todd Walker and David Ortiz–all of whom have notable platoon weaknesses. (Also hammering home similar division-of-labor lessons was that pin factory in “Wealth of Nations,” and the annual faulty deployment of Gil Gerard and Loretta Swit in “Battle of the Network Stars.”)
That the Red Sox, one of the headiest, most progressive organizations in all of baseball, playing in a game of critical importance, didn’t tap into their well-stocked bench in this situation reinforced something for me: the failure to platoon players with notable weaknesses against one side is one of the last great organizational blind spots. And every organization is guilty of it–even those we associate with high levels of efficiency, like the Red Sox, A’s, Yankees, Mariners, and Braves.
Mark Grudzielanek made an early run at being this series’ Jose Cruz Jr. with two poor efforts in the ninth inning, one mental, one physical. On the first, when he bobbled a Luis Castillo ground ball and never did tag Juan Pierre, I don’t understand why he didn’t throw to second base for the force play. He had to know he’d blown the tag–great call by Fieldin Culbreth–and in that situation you must get one out. Not doing so was critical, because there’s a huge difference between two outs and two on, and one out and three on. The next play didn’t get the attention, but it highlighted the Cubs’ main problem coming into this series. Ivan Rodriguez hit a line drive past Grudzielanek that, had he just fallen down from where he stood, he might have caught and at least would have kept in the infield. The Cubs don’t play defense well. It hurt them last night, and it’s going to haunt them in every game of this series. Speaking of Rodriguez, when do you think word will get out that he can hit fastballs up and on the outside edge? Someone, somewhere, may wish to try a different approach. That, or kryptonite.
If anyone ever asks me why I love baseball, I can just replay them the inevitable playoff highlights from this postseason. We’re barely into the LCS and there are already more great moments than I can remember. Sure, as a Cubs fan, maybe I’m a bit more into it than normal, but not by much. With the Yankees/Sox starting up tonight, we can count on that always heated rivalry giving us something more to remember and likely someone earning a reputation as something… another Bill Buckner, another Bucky F. Dent, another Reggie Jackson. We’re never sure what, but we always know we’re going to see something amazing. This is why we love baseball and why it seems no one can make the game go wrong, no matter how much they try. I’m just glad I have FX and a split-screen.
On to the injuries…