Game 7: Indians fans endure World Series heartbreak, again

There is no shame in losing what might be remembered as the greatest baseball game of all time. The Chicago Cubs won the World Series for the first time since 1908 because they were deeper in their starting rotation and had better hitters in their lineup. They are worthy champions, and they had millions and millions of people rooting for them all across America.

But like other fans of the Cleveland Indians, I am crestfallen now. My team held a 3-1 lead in games and needed just one more victory for its first World Series title since 1948. Cleveland had two opportunities to celebrate a World Series crown on its home field for the first time since 1920. In those two games, the Indians never even held a lead; in fact, for most of the 19 innings played in Games 6 and 7, the home team trailed by multiple runs.

Yet in the bottom of the ninth inning, in one of those rare sporting events that transcend sports, all the Indians needed was one lousy run and they would have been champions.

If only.

Cubs 8, Indians 7. Just pressing the buttons to write those numbers hurts.

The Curse of the Billy Goat is over. The Curse of Rocky Colavito – or is it the Curse of Chief Wahoo? – lives on.

The last two times the Indians have played in a World Series, they lost Game 7 in extra innings. All other Major League Baseball franchises combined have seen their championship hopes die that particular way only twice. The Atlanta Braves lost 1-0 to the Minnesota Twins in the 10th inning of Game 7 in 1991, and the New York Giants lost 4-3 to the Washington Senators in the 12th inning of Game 7 in 1924. That’s it.

A handful of other ballclubs, most notably the 1986 Boston Red Sox and 2011 Texas Rangers, blew chances to win a World Series in extra innings in a Game 6. Cleveland, however, is plotting new courses on the choppy waters of postseason heartbreak. The Indians have played four games, one in 1997 and three in this Series, that would have clinched a world championship – and they lost all four. They have become baseball’s answer to the 1990s Buffalo Bills.

Even grown men struggle to cope with such a cruel fate. As Mike Hargrove, manager of the Indians team that lost to the Marlins in 11 after blowing a 2-1 lead in the ninth, told mlb.com columnist Tracy Ringolsby in the lead-up to this Series: “I had a guy ask me two months ago how long it took me to get over Game 7 and the way we lost it and I told him, ‘Well, just as soon as it happens, I’ll let you know.”

Mind you, the game to which Hargrove referred took place 19 years ago.

That’s what made this World Series so special. Both franchises were trying to exorcize the demons of their past. Both fan bases (including me) were haunted by memories of previous disappointments. Never before had a major sports championship been determined by two franchises that had gone a combined 176 years without one.

The end result was the most-watched baseball telecast of the Internet Age, a ballgame seen by multitudes who normally don’t pay much attention to America’s Pastime. An estimated television audience of 40.05 million tuned in, the most for baseball since 50.34 million viewers saw the Braves-Twins Game 7 of 1991. Wednesday’s overnight Nielsen rating was a whopping 25.2. Even the NBA Finals Game 7 this June drew just an 18.9.

And what a show those people saw. Books will be written about this game. Documentaries will be made about it. It had daring base-running, unexpected twists and turns, and the highest level of drama the game can offer. It was neither perfectly played – four errors, three by Chicago – nor perfectly managed – what was Joe Maddon thinking? Each team finished with more than 10 hits, and runs were scored in every inning but the second, seventh and ninth. This was one of those epic sporting events that will never be forgotten, and I feel honored to know that my team was a part of it.

The Indians brought further honor upon themselves by the way they persevered, in both this game and the postseason as a whole. They had the lowest payroll of the 10 teams in the playoff field, and their highest-paid player, star outfielder and former MVP candidate Michael Brantley, missed all but two weeks of the season. Injuries also shelved second and third starters Carlos Carrasco (for the entire postseason) and Danny Salazar (who could make only two cameo appearances in the Series). Yet the pitching staff somehow managed to dominate the Red Sox and Toronto Blue Jays in the American League playoffs, then the Cubs for three victories, in an unlikely run to the brink of a championship. Before the World Series started, Christopher “Mad Dog” Russo announced on MLB Network that oddsmakers in Las Vegas had installed Cleveland as a 2-to-1 underdog. The Indians were short-handed, but they nearly pulled off what would have been a colossal upset.

As throngs of Clevelanders assembled on the plaza outside the ballpark, hoping for a celebration, the expectation was that for the Indians to win, pitching had to rule the day. Instead, the Chicago hitters did. Ace Corey Kluber and reliever Andrew Miller – whose postseason numbers prior to Wednesday ranked among the best ever – combined to give up six runs and 10 hits, three of them homers, over 6 1/3 innings. Even some of the outs they got were hit hard. After striking out eight batters in the first three innings of Game 1, Kluber, for the first time in his career, had an outing with no strikeouts at all. Against Kluber, Dexter Fowler became the first player to lead off Game 7 of a World Series with a home run. Against Miller, David Ross, at 39, became the oldest player ever to homer in a World Series Game 7.

But on a night when history was made several times over, Cleveland’s comeback was historic, too. With two Indians in scoring position in the fifth, Jason Kipnis hustled around the bases to score from second on a wild pitch, cutting the deficit to 5-3. It was just the third two-run wild pitch in postseason history – and the first since 1911.

Then there was Rajai Davis. Just as Carlton Fisk’s home run, in a losing cause in 1975, gave that great World Series its most enduring image, Davis’ two-run shot with two out in the eighth inning will be the most enduring image of this one. The speedy outfielder, who hadn’t gone deep in two months, jolted Cleveland into a sudden joyful frenzy by hitting the first tying home run in the eighth inning or later of a World Series Game 7.

If I ever get a chance to meet Rajai Davis, I want to thank him for giving me a thrill unlike any other I have experienced in more than 40 years as a sports fan. Cubs 6, Indians 6. Wow!

Now I was a true believer again, and much of the nation surely joined me in thinking that Cleveland was really going to win it all. Then, with a runner on third and two out in the top of the ninth, Fowler hit a grounder up the middle that looked eerily similar to Edgar Renteria’s single to center that decided Game 7 of the ’97 Series. Oh no, not again! Not this time. Shortstop Francisco Lindor made a dive, smothered the ball, and threw to first just in time to get Fowler.

The Indians had their best chance in the bottom of the ninth, when the top of the order came to bat against Aroldis Chapman. The fireballer from Cuba had just given up a home run for the first time since joining the Cubs in a trade in July, and he was worn out from being overused by Maddon over a three-game, four-day span. The second batter he would face, Kipnis, grew up a Cubs fan in the same suburban Chicago neighborhood as the infamous Steve Bartman. I thought about how jinxed the Cubs must be if the Indians’ second baseman were to win the Series with a walk-off shot for the ages. Davis’ tying blow and Lindor’s inning-ending play had me filled with hope, so much so that I wanted to believe I could make Kipnis hit a home run by the sheer force of my will. On the third pitch, when Kipnis made solid contact and pulled the ball, I exclaimed, “YES!” – only to see that the ball was a foul into the stands down the right-field line. Four pitches later, Kipnis struck out.

That’s as close as I’ve ever come to celebrating the Indians’ winning the World Series.

A sporting event of this magnitude can inspire people to seek divine intervention to influence the outcome. I must admit that prior to Game 7, I myself said a prayer for the Indians to win. However, I’m pretty sure that more people around the world were praying for the Cubs than for the Indians. I also remembered that years ago, a highlight show featuring the Cubs on a hot streak included a call by the legendary Harry Caray during which he announced on the air, “The Good Lord wants the Cubs to win.”

The way the game ended, it sure seemed that way.

In the eighth, Cleveland had strung together an infield single by Jose Ramirez, an RBI double by Brandon Guyer, and Davis’ heroic drive inside the left-field foul pole – all with two out. It appeared unlikely that the Cubs could recover from such a devastating collapse. Then, just as the Indians were seizing the momentum and electrifying their ballpark with positive energy, the rains came. After the final out in the bottom of the ninth, the suspense was suspended for 17 minutes, enough time for the Cubs to regain control of their emotions.

“I really feel like in some ways that rain delay was kind of divine intervention,” Chicago general manager Jed Hoyer said afterward. “The game was going really fast for us at that point. Dexter had just missed winning the game for us (in the ninth) – Lindor made a heck of a play. And to get that little break right there, it helped us a lot.”

Chapman, for one, was in tears, but the Chicago players, led by outfielder Jason Heyward, encouraged and supported one another during a brief clubhouse meeting. When play resumed, five of the first six batters reached base. The Cubs scored two runs in the 10th inning; the Indians, just one. Two days later, Chicago celebrated with a parade that had been nearly 11 decades in the making.

Ever since June, when the Cavaliers won the NBA crown to end the city’s 52-year sports-championship drought, my wife had been encouraging me by saying, “This is the year of Cleveland.” She turned out to be half-right. This was the year for Cleveland to be part of two unforgettable, historic championship series in which the winner came back from a 3-games-to-1 deficit to achieve something that hadn’t been done in a long, long time.

For the city in northeast Ohio that was once an industrial juggernaut, the wait for a World Series championship is now at 68 years and counting. That’s as long as the New York Rangers’ 1940-1994 Stanley Cup drought, with the entire lifespan of an adolescent added on. Perhaps if the Indians replace their Chief Wahoo logo, which some find offensive, they will replace the Cubs as the most popular sentimental favorite in all of sports.

I still have faith that the “Believeland Windians” will someday win the World Series. But as Cubs fans could tell me, there’s no guarantee I’ll live long enough to witness it.

Sources: deadline.com, FOX Sports, mlb.com.

Filed November 4, 2016

Game 6: Cubs’ rout pushes Fall Classic to winner-take-all finale

Following are my thoughts as I watched the Indians fail to seal their first World Series championship since 1948:

Pregame – In order to appreciate where the Indians are, let’s look back at how far they have come. In the 68 seasons they have played since their previous title (this year being the 68th), the Indians finished first nine times and finished last seven times; they endured 36 losing seasons compared to just 30 winning ones; they wound up with a .500 record twice, but lost 100 games in a season four times. Cleveland was spared from a fifth such dubious distinction in 1969, when a postponed game was never made up; the Indians placed dead last in their division that year with 99 defeats.

And how could I forget 1987? Coming off a winning record in ’86, Cleveland hoodwinked some people into thinking it was actually a contending team. Sports Illustrated, whose staff at the time featured the distinguished baseball writer Peter Gammons, put the smiling faces of star sluggers Joe Carter and Cory Snyder on the cover of its season preview issue. “Believe it! Cleveland is the best team in the American League,” the magazine’s cover proclaimed. The Indians lost 101 games that year – ample evidence that the SI cover jinx really does exist.

The Indians went four full decades (1955 to 1994) without making the playoffs. Cleveland likely would have been a division winner or wild-card team in ’94, but – just the Indians’ luck – that was the year the entire postseason was wiped out so that the millionaire owners and millionaire players could waste everyone’s time by arguing over money.

* * *

The late 1990s and early 2000s could have been the golden era of Cleveland Indians baseball, except for two small problems. One, Cleveland never won a World Series despite six division crowns and two American League pennants in a seven-year span. Two, those Indians had too many prickly personalities. There was Albert Belle, with his violent temper and corked bat. There was Eddie Murray, who refused to talk to reporters … just because. There was Manny Ramirez, a great hitter whose entire career is considered clouded by his positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. The Cleveland teams of that era even had John Rocker for a while. How could I root for John Rocker?

This season, there doesn’t seem to be a bad apple in the bunch. From manager Terry Francona on down, this is an easy group of guys to root for. Unlike baseball champions of the 1970s, when the Oakland A’s and “Bronx Zoo” Yankees proved that teammates who don’t get along can still win, the 2016 Indians show a genuine respect for one another.

* * *

On July 7, 2008, less than a year after losing Game 7 of the AL Championship Series, the Indians traded 2007 Cy Young Award winner CC Sabathia for four prospects. On July 29, 2009, the Indians traded 2008 Cy Young Award winner Cliff Lee for four more prospects. Of the eight players Cleveland acquired in those trades, the only two who panned out were outfielder Michael Brantley and starting pitcher Carlos Carrasco, neither of whom has played this postseason because of injuries. Brantley hardly played at all this year, and the absence of Carrasco and Danny Salazar – its Nos. 2 and 3 starters – makes Cleveland’s pitching dominance in these playoffs all the more remarkable. Trevor Bauer, the losing pitcher in two of his team’s World Series defeats, was the Indians’ fifth starter when all five were available.

Working at a newspaper in the New York area, I edited stories about the 2009 World Series in which Sabathia’s Yankees defeated Lee’s Philadelphia Phillies. This year, Cleveland won the American League pennant for the sixth time in the franchise’s 115-year history – or just once more than the Yankees did in the six-year span from 1996 to 2001.

First inning – What a terrible start! I felt good to see Game 2 hitting hero Kyle Schwarber swing at the first pitch and ground out to the right side for the second out. But then Kris Bryant belted a no-doubt shot to left – his second homer in as many games – and Anthony Rizzo and Ben Zobrist followed with well-struck singles to put runners at the corners. A fly ball to right-center could have ended the inning, but rookie Tyler Naquin and right fielder Lonnie Chisenhall miscommunicated, allowing the ball to drop for a disastrous two-run double. In the Indians’ first 13 postseason games combined, they allowed three first-inning runs. They matched that crooked number tonight. The home fans suddenly have glum looks on their faces, and I have a sick feeling in my gut. Cubs 3, Indians 0.

Second inning – Josh Tomlin retires Chicago in order. In the bottom half, Fox Sports shows 95-year-old Eddie Robinson, who is in attendance. Robinson is the last surviving member of the Indians’ 1948 championship team, and the 11th-oldest former major-leaguer overall. Jake Arrieta is pitching so well for the Cubs, I’m already thinking Cleveland will need a late-inning rally against Chicago’s bullpen to avoid a Game 7.

Third inning – Chisenhall and Naquin again fail to work together on a fly ball, but this time Chisenhall makes the catch. Otherwise, this inning is a replay of the first – only worse. Following a walk to Schwarber, Rizzo and Zobrist again smack singles, which give Chicago bases loaded with one out. That is enough for Tomlin, who is replaced by Dan Otero. Otero’s first batter – kid star shortstop Addison Russell – crushes a grand slam to center, and it is time to start planning for a Game 7 tomorrow night. Cubs 7, Indians 0.

Fourth inning – Just like when Arrieta pitched in Game 2, Kipnis doubles for Cleveland’s first hit and comes around to score the Tribe’s first run. Mike Napoli’s RBI single is followed by a hit batter and a walk, and with the bases loaded and two out, I’m dreaming big about how great it would be to come back from a seven-run deficit to clinch a championship. But Naquin, who is having a miserable night, looks overmatched as he strikes out to end the inning. Cubs 7, Indians 1.

Fifth inning – Salazar pitches his second straight scoreless inning. In the home half, Kipnis continues to swing a hot bat. He homers to left, an opposite-field shot. Cubs 7, Indians 2.

Sixth inning – Arrieta is removed after 5 2/3, as Chicago manager Joe Maddon replaces him with Mike Montgomery. But who else does Maddon trust out of the bullpen?

Seventh inning – Zach McAllister gives up two singles to start the frame but gets two fly balls and a grounder to wriggle out of the jam. In the bottom half, Maddon gives the ball to closer Aroldis Chapman with two on and two out. It is a surprise, given that Chapman just went 2 2/3 innings in Game 5. Here, the first batter he faces, Francisco Lindor, hits a grounder to first base and nearly beats Chapman to the bag. On replay, Lindor is called out to end the threat, but Chapman is slightly hobbled after his foot lands awkwardly on the base.

Eighth inning – Russell has six RBI, as he was the statistical beneficiary of the game-turning misplayed fly in the first that was scored a two-run double. He made the last out in the seventh, on a hard-hit grounder to third. One thing that worries me is that the Cubs’ young hitters – Russell, Bryant (4 for 5) and Rizzo – along with the veteran Zobrist, are all swinging the bat well and making good contact.

Ninth inning – Rizzo belts a two-run homer to cap a huge night for the heart of the Cubs’ order. With the seven-run difference restored, Maddon removes Chapman after his 62nd pitch over a two-game span. An RBI hit by Roberto Perez brings home the final run. Cubs 9, Indians 3.

Posted November 1, 2016

Sources: baseball-reference.com, Cleveland Indians Media Guide (2002), Fox Sports, mlb.com.

At Wrigley Field, Indians spoil Chicago’s party to set up one of their own

The fans in the outdoor Midwestern baseball stadium could barely believe their eyes as they watched the games unfold. Their favorite team had not won the World Series since long before they were born, but now it was playing like a champion on the sport’s biggest stage. The faithful, too excited to remain seated, shouted and leaped and hugged each other with glee, as the ballplayers they identified as their own hit superbly in the clutch while frustrating the opposing batters with one masterful pitching performance after another.

This doesn’t describe the crowds who paid thousands of dollars to watch the Cubs’ three World Series games at Wrigley Field over the weekend. No, these were the crowds who paid a whole lot less than that to attend viewing parties at Progressive Field in Cleveland, where they looked up at the giant video screen atop the left-field stands and saw the Tribe take two of the three games in Chicago. It is now possible – even probable – for the Indians to win the World Series at home for the first time since 1920, when their opponent was called the Brooklyn Robins. It would be only the third championship for a franchise whose history dates all the way back to 1901. That’s two years before the first World Series was even played.

A total of 67,218 attended the watch parties at the Indians’ home park for Games 3, 4 and 5, the team said. Some paid as little as $5 for the privilege, and the proceeds will go to various charities.

Meanwhile, in Chicago, throngs were following the action not only inside the Friendly Confines but outside it. Streets in the Wrigleyville neighborhood were closed to vehicular traffic, and with extra commuter trains put into service on the CTA Red Line, city officials were urging fans to take mass transit. Those who didn’t must have walked a long way to get back to their cars, considering that Wrigley – built in 1914 – doesn’t have its own parking lot. With the Cubs in their first Series since the year World War II ended, the Windy City has gone a little bonkers. If Cleveland had swept all three games at Wrigley, even I, an Indians fan, would have felt sorry for the thousands upon thousands who crammed into and around the ancient ballpark with the ivy-covered outfield walls.

The Series is drawing huge television audiences, too: 18.5 million viewers on average through the first five games, according to Variety. The preliminary Nielsen numbers for Game 5 were 25 percent better than in 2015, despite the fact that last year’s Game 5 was an elimination game for the New York Mets. Sunday night’s game also drew a whole lot more (21.54 million versus 17.21 million) than the simultaneous Dallas Cowboys-Philadelphia Eagles matchup – even though the football game was a battle for first place that went to overtime.

Here’s a recap of what all those baseball watchers saw:

Game 3 – Indians 1, Cubs 0: As if winning a championship weren’t enough to earn a place in my sports fan’s heart forever, these Indians are just plain easy to like. Take, for example, Josh Tomlin, who was moved up to No. 2 in the rotation only because of injuries to two other starters.

Of all the players on the team, Tomlin might have drawn the toughest assignment, facing major-league earned-run average leader Kyle Hendricks with the series tied 1-1. But the Indians’ right-hander outpitched his more accomplished opponent, throwing 4 2/3 innings of shutout ball to help Cleveland retake the series lead. And from his wheelchair, in the “Not-So-Friendly” Confines, surrounded by mobs of Cubs crazies eager to see his son lose, Jerry Tomlin saw Josh pitch in person for the first time since being paralyzed from the chest down in August because of a rare blood-vessel issue near his spinal cord. “It was probably one of the more emotional starts I’ve ever had in my entire life,” said Tomlin, who turned 32 on October 19. “ … I did the best I could for him.”

Tomlin gave up 36 home runs this season, but only one since September 1, a span of eight starts. Teams scoring first have won 14 straight games in these playoffs, and Cleveland set a record by pitching its fifth shutout of this postseason. The Indians also became the first club to post two shutouts in a World Series since the 1966 Baltimore Orioles.

Game 3 marked the first time in World Series history that two starting pitchers went less than five innings even though neither had given up a run. And through three games, the Cubs are hitting just .154 with runners on base.

Game 4 – Indians 7, Cubs 2: Before Carlos Santana went deep, the last player to hit a World Series home run at Wrigley Field was Hank Greenberg in 1945 – and the last first baseman to hit one was Lou Gehrig in 1932. More important than its historical value, however, was its timing: Santana’s leadoff shot hushed the crowd, moments after the Cubs had taken the lead for only the second time in the series. John Lackey, despite all his experience under postseason pressure, could not get past one batter without relinquishing the advantage.

Amazing. As soon as the riled-up Wrigley faithful have something to boost their hopes – a first-inning lead, and some hits against 2014 Cy Young Award winner Corey Kluber – the Indians jump ahead in their very next at-bat. Kluber, pulling one foul by a few feet with two out and two on, almost got a hit down the third-base line. The Cubs might have preferred that to what did happen. On a 3-2 pitch, he barely got his bat on the ball and pushed a bouncer toward third. Kris Bryant charged in and threw on the run. Not only did Kluber beat the throw, but it was too wide for first baseman Anthony Rizzo to hold it. With runners going on the pitch, Lonnie Chisenhall was able to score the go-ahead run from second easily. The throwing error was the second of the inning for Bryant, the young star expected to win the National League MVP award.

All the breaks seem to be going the Indians’ way now. After the umpire’s call on a close 2-2 pitch goes against Lackey, Francisco Lindor lashes a single to center to drive home Jason Kipnis, making the score 3-1. This was after Kipnis’ double to open the third, the second straight inning the Indians led off with an extra-base hit to right field.

In the sixth, the Indians scored another tack-on run off reliever Mike Montgomery, even though they didn’t look smooth doing it. Lindor walked on a 3-2 pitch. Santana hit a comebacker that took the glove off the pitcher’s hand. Montgomery retrieved it but, off balance, threw wildly to first. Santana foolishly made a turn, and both he and first baseman Rizzo ended up flopping around in the dirt as Santana nearly got caught off the bag. Rather than sacrifice, Jose Ramirez hit what could have been a double-play ball; Ramirez beat the relay, so it wound up being a productive out. With runners on the corners, Chisenhall also failed to put a bunt down, and Lindor was nearly caught off the bag at third when the safety squeeze was not executed. Then Chisenhall hit a sacrifice fly to center and the run wound up scoring anyway.

Now Cleveland was ahead 4-1, and three runs seemed like an impossible mountain to climb against Kluber. In a span covering the fifth and sixth innings, the overanxious Cubs swung at 11 of 12 pitches. That exercise in futility helped Kluber become the first pitcher to start and win Games 1 and 4 of a World Series since Jose Rijo of the Cincinnati Reds in 1990. The Indians’ ace went six innings, striking out six and walking one to continue what has been a dominant October. Kluber’s 0.89 ERA is the second-best playoff mark in baseball history among pitchers with at least 30 innings in one postseason.

Kipnis made the night seem too good to be true from a Cleveland standpoint when he drilled a three-run shot in the seventh. The last player to hit a three-run homer in a Series game at Wrigley had been Babe Ruth – his famous “called shot,” in 1932. As a kid, Kipnis had been a Cubs fan; he is from the suburb of Northbrook, Ill., where one of his neighbors was another Cubs fan who made the home fans unhappy during a postseason game at Wrigley Field: Steve Bartman.

Though Cleveland’s 7-1 lead made his presence seem hardly necessary, Andrew Miller did enter the game. He set a record for most strikeouts by a relief pitcher in a single postseason, but also gave up Dexter Fowler’s solo shot in the eighth. That whimper of protest – the Cubs’ first home run of the series – ensured that Miller’s ERA for these playoffs will not be 0.00.

Game 5 – Cubs 3, Indians 2: When Ramirez opened the scoring with a solo home run in the second inning, I remarked that these games in Chicago were beyond my wildest dreams. The Cubs rebounded soon thereafter, however, and just like Cleveland in the 1995 World Series against Atlanta, they won Game 5 to avoid the ignominy of having their opponent clinch the championship as their disappointed home fans watched in horror.

The Indians made Chicago sweat, though. The Cubs scored all three of their runs in the third inning, posting another succession of zeroes the rest of the way. In what some observers perceived as a panic move, Chicago manager Joe Maddon inserted closer Aroldis Chapman with one out in the seventh inning. The left-hander from Cuba whose fastball consistently exceeds 100 mph did the job, but the Indians will have two more chances to clinch the series – in Cleveland.

Posted October 31, 2016

Sources: The Associated Press, Cleveland Indians Media Guide (2002), Cleveland.com (Plain Dealer website), espn.com, Fox Sports, mlb.com, Chicago Tribune.

Game 2: Of all opponents, why did it have to be the Cubs?

The Indians’ 5-1 loss to the Cubs Wednesday night was more lopsided than the score indicates. Chicago had nine hits and drew eight walks, but mercifully left 13 runners on base. Jake Arrieta took a no-hitter into the sixth inning, when Jason Kipnis doubled and scored to ruin both the no-no bid and the shutout. By then, the Cubs were already ahead by five runs. Defense and base running, normally both strengths, deserted the Indians; second baseman Kipnis committed two errors (the first errors made by an Indians position player this October) and Francisco Lindor was caught stealing to snuff out a scoring opportunity. In dealing former Red Sox skipper Terry Francona his first loss in 10 career World Series games as manager, the Cubs were never in danger of losing the lead after scoring a run in their very first at-bat.

Shivering in the damp 43-degree chill, waiting for a reason to hope during a 4-hour, 4-minute game whose outcome was determined in the early innings, Indians fans at Progressive Field had little to cheer.

Yet cheers could be heard anyway. “Let’s go Cubs! Let’s go Cubs!” A large number of Cubs fans – way too many for my liking – had invaded the Indians’ home ballpark. When the Indians last played in the World Series in 1997, the nation responded with a collective yawn, but the people who attended the three games in Cleveland were almost all rooting for the Indians. This time, the nation is paying much more attention – overnight TV ratings are up about one-third over last year’s figures – but the Indians’ home-field advantage has been compromised by the widespread popularity of their opponent.

This happened in Los Angeles, too, where Cubs fans could be heard in full throat during the NL Championship Series against the Dodgers. The Cubs indeed have a national following. But in Cleveland at least, the noisy support for the visiting team could not be attributed solely to the legions who root for the Cubs even though they live outside Chicagoland.

According to reports, the demand for tickets at Wrigley Field is so high that only the well-heeled can afford them. So rather than take out a loan to pay $4,000 or $5,000 per seat, some Cubs fans have decided that the only affordable way to see their team play in its first World Series since 1945 is to make it a road trip. Prices at the Indians’ park are high, too, but earlier this week, a spokesperson for StubHub put the average price of tickets for Game 1 there at a much less outrageous $1,000. Cameron Popp of StubHub also told The Associated Press that about 25 percent of the tickets sold on the website for Game 1 were paid for with credit cards associated with Illinois ZIP codes.

Against any other opponent, I’d be happy to see the Cubs win a World Series game for the first time since the year World War II ended. I’d also be happy to hear about the zeal that motivated more than 2.6 million people – about the same number as the population of Chicago – to sign up for a drawing for a chance to buy one of the few thousand tickets the Cubs were selling themselves. And Cubs fans are reporting a unique kinship with Indians fans, a mutual respect between two fan bases that have waited a combined 176 years for a championship.

But if the Cubs do win the Series as prognosticators predict they will, it will be at my favorite team’s expense. Talk about bittersweet.

Posted October 27, 2016

Sources: ABC News, The Associated Press, Fox Sports, mlb.com

Game 1: Indians’ dominant pitching is forgotten World Series story

In any other year, the biggest story of the World Series would be the dominance of the Cleveland Indians’ pitching staff.

But this isn’t a typical World Series. This World Series is about history, because both teams are making it. It’s about the fans, most of whom have been waiting a lifetime to see their team win a title. Most of all, it’s about the Chicago Cubs – who are in the World Series for the first time since 1945, are trying to become champions for the first time since 1908, and are the only team in all of sports that might be a more lovable underdog than the Indians.

On what will be remembered as the greatest sports night the city of Cleveland has ever had, the Cavaliers received their championship rings, raised their championship banner to the Quicken Loans Arena rafters, and routed the New York Knicks to open the 2016-17 NBA regular season. Meanwhile, right next door at Progressive Field, Corey Kluber mowed down the mighty Cubs for a 6-0 victory to open the 2016 World Series.

Kluber set a World Series record by striking out eight batters – of a possible nine – in the first three innings. He left the game to an appreciative ovation after one batter in the seventh, having allowed just four hits and no walks against nine strikeouts.

The shutout was the Indians’ fourth in these playoffs – an astonishing total, considering Cleveland has played just nine postseason games, winning eight of them. Three of those shutouts have come with Kluber starting, but the Indians also blanked the Toronto Blue Jays in the pennant clincher with Ryan Merritt throwing 4 1/3 innings in just his second major-league start.

In 80 postseason innings, Cleveland has allowed a “crooked number” – more than one run in an inning – just once, and its airtight defense has committed just one error. When catcher Roberto Perez launched a three-run homer in the eighth against the Cubs, it marked the first time the Indians have scored after the sixth inning of any game this postseason. Their bullpen has been posting zero after zero, so they haven’t needed any late-inning rallies to move three victories away from their first World Series championship since 1948.

The winner of Game 1 has won the World Series 12 of the last 13 years. And the team with home-field advantage has won 24 of the last 30 World Series. Both trends bode well for Cleveland.

The only drawback for Cleveland in Game 1 was that Andrew Miller, MVP of the American League Championship Series, looked human. Miller took the mound with a man on and nobody out in the seventh, having struck out 21 of the 41 batters he had faced this October. But protecting a three-run lead in his two innings of work, Miller issued two walks and needed 46 pitches, a total he had not reached in any relief appearance since 2011. The lopsided game’s high point of drama came when Miller escaped a bases-loaded, no-outs jam in the seventh.

Posted October 26, 2016

Sources: Fox Sports, mlb.com, si.com, sportsonearth.com

Indians or Cubs will reward their fans for keeping the faith

 

For many baseball fans, this is the week they thought might never come. I know, because I’m one of them.

I am a fan of the Cleveland Indians. In 1995, my team won 100 games and lost just 44 in a regular season that started two weeks late because of the two-year strike. That Indians team was being compared to some of the greatest teams in baseball history as the World Series against the Atlanta Braves got underway. But how can a team rank with the greatest ever if it doesn’t even win the championship? The Hall of Fame Atlanta pitching trio of Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine and John Smoltz lost every other World Series they played – all four of them – but they were at their best against the Tribe. The Braves won the Series in six games.

As disappointing as 1995 was, it paled in comparison to what happened two years later. In my 40-plus years as a sports fan, no defeat was ever as painful as Game 7 of the 1997 World Series. It was played on a Sunday night, and I waited impatiently in the afternoon and evening for the football games to end so that baseball could take center stage. When it did, the Tribe turned my frayed nerve endings into high hopes by taking a two-run lead over the Florida Marlins in the third inning. Cleveland entered the bottom of the ninth still leading 2-1. After winning just 86 games in a mediocre regular season, the 1997 Indians were on the verge of capping a magical October by taking Games 6 and 7 on the road, in Miami, for what would have been the city’s first championship in a major professional sport since the Browns took the NFL crown in 1964. Bob Costas, calling play-by-play for NBC, reminded viewers that the Indians had not won the World Series since 1948. Now they were just three outs away.

Closer Jose Mesa got only two of them before Florida tied the score, so the game went into extra innings. In the 11th, Indians second baseman Tony Fernandez, whose resume was dotted with multiple Gold Glove Awards for fielding excellence, made an error on a ground ball, turning what could have been an inning-ending double play into deep trouble. As the long struggle passed the four-hour mark, the Marlins had runners on first and third. With two out, Edgar Renteria brought home the deciding run with a single up the middle – a result that left me crying in my wife’s arms, the only time in my adult life that I shed a tear because of the outcome of a sporting event. And I remember pondering this painful question: Will I live long enough to see the Indians get this close to winning it all ever again?

Losses like that leave scars on a sports fan’s soul. “Wait till next year” is the fan’s lament.

But it turns out that 2016 is “next year,” for tonight, Cleveland is the host city for Game 1 of the World Series for the first time in the 115-year history of the city’s American League franchise. And less than an hour before first pitch, in a basketball arena right next door, the Cavaliers raised a banner in recognition of their NBA title in June. Yes, after 52 years and 147 consecutive sports seasons without a championship, Cleveland now stands just four victories away from championships in consecutive sports seasons. Because LeBron James’ Cavs have rewarded “Believeland” for keeping the faith, the Indians’ home crowds for this World Series will bring with them an optimism and expectation of success that they did not have in 1995 and ’97.

Against any other opponent, the Indians would be America’s sentimental favorite. But against the Chicago Cubs, they are the less darling underdog in a historic matchup of franchises that have been synonymous with that word for generations.

Only two organizations in the four major team sports of North America have championship droughts longer than the Indians’ 68 years. However, the fan base of one, the NFL’s Cardinals, doesn’t really belong in this conversation because the Cards have been a football vagabond since winning their most recent title in 1947, moving from Chicago to St. Louis in 1960 and to their current home in Arizona in 1988. No, the only fan base that has been waiting longer for a title than Indians fans is the Cubs fans — who have not seen their team win it all since 1908.

The last time the Indians won the World Series, many American families had not yet purchased their first television sets. The last time the Cubs won the World Series, the first Model T Fords were rolling off the assembly line. To root for these teams, patience is more than a virtue – it’s a necessity.

Patience isn’t the only thing the current generation of Indians fans has in common with the current generation of Cubs fans. Both have had their hearts broken by the same franchise, the same common enemy – the Florida Marlins.

When Cleveland lost to Florida in 1997, it all seemed so unfair. The Marlins were an expansion franchise in only their fifth season, and I was convinced that many of the spectators in attendance for those World Series games in Miami were there on a lark. Unlike Indians fans, Marlins fans had not yet paid their dues, not yet experienced disappointment. In fact, 1997 was the first time Florida had qualified for the playoffs. Worse, Marlins owner Wayne Huizenga (citing financial reasons, of course) began dissembling his team of stars even before the champagne stains had been removed from the clubhouse carpet. Predictably, the Marlins soon fell to the bottom of the standings.

The only other time the Marlins reached the postseason was 2003 – the year they broke the Cubs’ hearts. Chicago’s epic collapse in Games 6 and 7 of the National League Championship Series came after a fan seated in the front row infamously caught a foul ball, preventing Cubs left fielder Moises Alou from reaching into the stands to record an important out in the eighth inning of Game 6. Alou was livid, and the rest of the Cubs – as if following his lead – collectively lost their poise soon thereafter. Florida went on to win another championship.

ABC News reported tonight that World Series ticket prices are at record levels — $3,900 for the games at Wrigley Field. The Cubs, considered the best team in baseball all season long, posted 103 victories over the regular schedule and are heavily favored. If they prevail in four or five games to end the Series in front of their home crowd, it’s a safe bet that every single person in the Wrigley Field stands will be seeing the Cubs win a championship for the first time in his or her lifetime. But if the Indians can pull off the upset, many of their fans likewise will get to celebrate a championship they have waited a lifetime to enjoy.

Between now and then, all will watch with sweaty palms as their ballclubs meet to decide whose curse is worse – the Curse of the Billy Goat, or the Curse of Rocky Colavito. Part of the lore of baseball is the idea that an animal’s visit to Wrigley Field doomed the Cubs to years of losing, or that an unpopular general manager’s foolish trade of the promising and popular Colavito helped turn the Tribe into a “Major League” laughingstock. Fans – the word is short for “fanatics” – believe in such things. And in this World Series, the fans will share center stage with the players. During the television broadcasts, the Fox cameras will frequently pan the crowds to capture the anxiety or joy etched on the spectators’ faces. Their enduring hope, their eternal optimism, their ability to persevere through last-place seasons and mediocre seasons and fired managers and front-office ineptitude and postseason heartbreak – all will be ingredients in this compelling drama.

Regardless of which team wins the trophy, one fan base will experience unprecedented euphoria, while the other will be forced to endure a cruel disappointment – again.

Posted October 25, 2016

Print sources: Cleveland Indians Media Guide (2002); Our Tribe: A Baseball Memoir, by Terry Pluto, Simon & Schuster (1999).
Other sources: ESPN, Fox Sports, mlb.com, MLB Network, TBS Sports.

Failing to honor Larry Doby on Jackie’s day is an injustice

Larry Doby was given less than 24 hours’ notice that he would be the one to break the color barrier in the American League. On the morning of July 5, 1947, Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck announced at a press conference that he had purchased Doby’s contract from the Newark (N.J.) Eagles, and Doby made his major-league debut as a pinch hitter that very same day. He struck out — as he did many times that first season, when he was ill-prepared by Veeck and, at 23, too young and inexperienced to make the giant leap from the Negro Leagues to Major League Baseball.

“Doby survived against far greater odds and obstacles than those facing Jackie Robinson,” Terry Pluto wrote in his book Our Tribe. “Most of us don’t know that. Most of us just know that Larry Doby was the second African-American to play major-league baseball. Because he was second, it was supposed to be easier.”

As they remained for most of the sport’s history, the National League and American League were separate entities in 1947. The two leagues operated independently, with different schedules, different ballparks and different sets of franchises; they did not face each other on the field in regular-season games. So when Doby made his debut 11 weeks after Robinson had made his, he gained the same distinction Robinson had. Each was the only Black ballplayer in his league.

In the 81 days that passed between Robinson’s first major-league game on April 15 and Doby’s first on July 5, there was no significant shift in Americans’ attitudes toward race. The Ku Klux Klan spread its message of hatred in the summer with just as much evil influence as it had in the spring. Rest rooms marked with signs that said “colored” in April still carried those same humiliating signs in July. More than once, Doby has wondered why people thought breaking the color barrier was easier for him than it had been for Robinson. “What would have changed?” Doby has often asked. “I signed 11 weeks after Jackie did with Brooklyn. We still have problems with race today; why would it have been different in 1947?”

Yet tonight, as MLB pauses for its annual tribute to Robinson, the trials that Doby endured and the legacy he left on the sport are seemingly forgotten. Every player in the majors, regardless of league, honors the anniversary of Robinson’s Dodgers debut by wearing Jackie’s number 42. No player — not even on the Cleveland Indians — wears Doby’s number 14.

This clumsy oversight, amid an otherwise well-presented commemoration of a historic milestone, heaps more injustice on the courageous fight against injustice that it attempts to celebrate.

Commissioner Bud Selig established “Jackie Robinson Day” in 1997, when he marked the 50th anniversary of Jackie’s rookie season by announcing that every MLB team would retire Robinson’s number in his honor. At the time, Doby was still waiting to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. He finally got the call from Cooperstown the following year — another stark contrast to Robinson, who was enshrined in his first year of eligibility.

In an interview with Bob Costas that aired on MLB Network this morning, Don Newcombe recalled that shortly before Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, he told Newcombe that the trails blazed by Robinson, Brooklyn teammates Newcombe and Roy Campanella, and Doby had made King’s role in the civil rights movement a bit easier to play. That’s right — none other than Martin Luther King Jr. appreciated what Doby did in his league as much as what the three Dodgers pioneers did in theirs.

So why is it so easy for the baseball world to forget this guy?

“Our society likes to focus on who’s first,” Hall of Fame second baseman Joe Morgan wrote in tribute after Doby’s death in 2003. “… I had numerous conversations with Larry over the years, … and he told me he went through exactly what Jackie went through, and maybe worse.”

After Doby played his final game, in 1959, he faded into the background. Little was heard from him until 1975, when Doby again had the misfortune of being second to a Hall of Famer named Robinson. Again it was the Indians who broke a color barrier, when they chose Frank Robinson to become the first African-American manager of a major-league team. Veeck, again, made Doby the second, when he named Doby to replace Bob Lemon as manager of the Chicago White Sox during the 1978 season.

The Ken Burns documentary “Jackie Robinson,” which aired this week on PBS, offers other reasons why history has accorded Robinson so much greater stature than Doby. When Robinson’s career as a baseball player ended, his second career as a civil rights crusader began. In retirement, he wrote strongly worded columns in newspapers, made eloquent speeches on behalf of presidential candidates, and marched alongside Rev. Dr. King. His greatest contributions to the nation are not as an athlete but as a powerful voice for desegregation, freedom, fairness, equal opportunity and human dignity.

Outside the sports arena, Jackie Robinson’s legacy stands apart. But Doby was vitally important to the cause of racial integration in professional baseball. And in terms of on-the-field achievement, he and Robinson had comparable careers.

Robinson finished with a higher batting average (.311 to .283), but Doby hit at least 20 home runs in eight straight seasons. Robinson, who never hit 20 home runs in a season, led the National League in stolen bases twice and in batting average once. Doby led the American League in homers twice and in RBI once.

Consider also that Doby put up his numbers despite a boss who didn’t set him up to succeed the way Branch Rickey did for Robinson. For Jackie’s first spring training in Florida in 1946, he could rely on support from Black sportswriter Wendell Smith, whom Rickey had hired for that purpose, and Rachel Robinson, the only wife Rickey allowed to accompany the team to camp. That season, playing in more open-minded Montreal, where a woman graciously welcomed Rachel into her home, Robinson led the Dodgers’ Montreal Royals farm team to a league championship. With anticipation of Robinson’s promotion to the majors growing, Rickey moved the Dodgers’ 1947 training site from the segregated South to Cuba, where Black and white players were already competing side by side.

Rickey was a deeply religious man who approached breaking the color barrier with the zeal of an abolitionist. He made Robinson’s success his personal mission, grooming him and counseling him for two years before Jackie’s first day in the majors. Veeck, on the other hand, was a showman, known for his creative promotional gimmicks. Some perceived the signing of Doby as nothing more than a publicity stunt designed to boost attendance at 80,000-seat Cleveland Stadium. And until the day he signed, Doby and Veeck had never met.

“Bill Veeck had good intentions. … But his planning stunk,” Pluto wrote in Our Tribe. “That is the real story behind the Indians and the signing of Larry Doby. It never should have worked.”

When Doby arrived in Chicago for his debut against the White Sox at Comiskey Park, he was not permitted to check in with the rest of the Indians at the Hotel Del Prado; instead, he stayed at a hotel whose location was described as “in the heart of Chicago’s Negro Belt.” He struck out six times in his first 13 plate appearances and finished his rookie half-season with only 32 at-bats in 29 games. Doby’s rare playing time came mostly as a pinch hitter or pinch runner. While Robinson was capping his rookie year by helping Brooklyn win the National League pennant, Doby was spending much of August and September sitting on the loneliest end of the Cleveland bench.

That winter, Doby played professional basketball, in a league that was a forerunner to the NBA. But he also read how-to manuals on playing the outfield, having been advised by coach Bill McKechnie that a switch of positions would improve his chances. Doby had been a middle infielder for Newark, but the Indians already had All-Stars at both shortstop and second base. One of them was shortstop Lou Boudreau, who doubled as the team’s manager. At preseason camp, Boudreau vowed to “keep Doby only if I feel quite sure that he can play regularly. I won’t have him sitting on the bench all year like he did last.”

Rather than staying with his teammates during camp, Doby lived with a local Black family two miles from the ballpark because the Santa Rita Hotel in Tucson, Ariz. — to Veeck’s surprise — turned out to be segregated. Doby was not expected to make the major-league roster out of spring training in 1948. Some wondered if he had what it took to ever make the majors at all. But he stunned his own team by earning a start in right field on opening day.

On the first Sunday of the season, Doby struck out five times. As an outfielder he was a neophyte, and it showed. On July 28, a routine fly ball hit Doby on the head, and the two runs that scored on the error cost Cleveland the game. “It is difficult for a major-league outfielder to suffer a greater blow to his pride than to be hit in the head by a fly ball,” Boudreau wrote. “He might easily have cracked there and never been good again.”

Instead, Doby emerged as a star during a memorable four-team pennant race. In August, he went on a 21-game hitting streak. And over a four-day period in September, Doby belted two game-winning homers, one a grand slam and the other a ninth-inning shot. In the playoff game against the Boston Red Sox that determined the pennant, his two doubles helped the Indians win the tiebreaker 8-3. Doby capped his ascendancy in the Indians’ 4-games-to-2 victory over the Boston Braves, batting .318 for the series, including a 425-foot blast that decided Game 4.

Doby became the first African-American to lead his team to a World Series championship. His star rose so high that after the season, the Sporting News published an editorial that included this piece of unsolicited advice: “Today, Doby occupies the position that just a year ago was filled by Robinson. Doby … must realize that now he is the major-league bellwether of the Negro race.”

Last year, a statue of Doby was finally erected outside the Indians’ ballpark. With the Mets opening a series in Cleveland tonight, TV announcer Gary Cohen mentioned Doby in the opening of the broadcast, which included a shot of that statue in the cutaway before a commercial. Such acknowledgement, however, does not happen nearly enough. And the Indians — if not all eight franchises that played in the American League in 1947 — should be wearing Doby’s number 14 on “Jackie Robinson Day.”

Over the years, one man has been revered as a trailblazer much more than the other — even though they blazed essentially the same trail.

“What I remember most about Larry is this: He didn’t get the credit he should have gotten, but he never expressed animosity about it,” wrote Morgan, a former baseball commentator for ESPN. “He was never jealous of the adulation that Jackie received.”

Posted April 15, 2016

Bibliography

Baseball’s Great Experiment: Jackie Robinson and His Legacy, by Jules Tygiel, Oxford University Press (1983).

Our Tribe: A Baseball Memoir, by Terry Pluto, Simon & Schuster (1999).

Havana Hardball: Spring Training, Jackie Robinson, and the Cuban League, by Cesar Brioso, University Press of Florida (2015).

Tribute by Joe Morgan published on ESPN Classic website as sidebar to Larry Doby obituary by The Associated Press , June 26, 2003.

Video sources cited in text.

Why all but one ‘Hail Mary’ pass should be renamed a ‘Big Ben’

It’s the play football teams try when there’s time on the clock only for one last, desperate heave. Two or more receivers line up on the same side of the formation, all of them run for the goal line, and the quarterback hopes his pass reaches the end zone. A receiver can produce the winning touchdown either one of two ways — by leaping above the crowd to grab the jump ball, or by tipping the pass like a volleyball so that a teammate can catch it.

That’s what Green Bay star Aaron Rodgers was hoping for Thursday night in Detroit. The Lions appeared to have the game won, only to have it extended by a facemask penalty as the Ford Field clock struck 0:00. Since a game cannot end on a foul by the defense, quarterback Rodgers, given a reprieve, launched a high rainbow that traveled 70 yards in the air. With players from both teams gathering behind him in the end zone, tight end Richard Rodgers positioned himself in front of the crowd and jumped high to complete a 61-yard scoring play. In the most stunning finish of the NFL season, the Packers turned a 20-0 third-quarter deficit into a 27-23 triumph.

The play was described on Twitter and other media as a “Hail Mary” pass, but “Big Ben” would be more historically accurate.

On November 12, 1978, the Atlanta Falcons put the play on the football map when they became the first NFL team to win a game with it. Before 1978, the tactic hadn’t been tried because the rules didn’t allow it. In fact, that was the main reason for the controversy surrounding the famous “Immaculate Reception” play of 1972. The only way that pass could be legal would be if it ricocheted off Oakland defender Jack Tatum, not Pittsburgh running back John Fuqua, before Franco Harris caught it off his shoe tops to complete perhaps the most unlikely scoring play in football history. Under a gray December sky and with no stripes on the ball to contrast with Fuqua’s black jersey, video technology of the time could not definitively show whether the ball deflected from Fuqua directly to teammate Harris. Such a deflection — from one offensive player to another without a defensive player touching the ball in between — would have been illegal then.

Among several rules changes introduced for the 1978 NFL season — the first with a 16-game schedule — was the freedom for one eligible receiver to tip the ball directly to another. So Falcons coach Leeman Bennett took advantage of the opportunity to dream up a play called “Big Ben,” named after the clock tower in London (Ben Roethlisberger wasn’t even born yet). At New Orleans in Week 11, the Falcons tried “Big Ben” at the end of each half — and it worked both times. But when they ran it to the left just before halftime, the officials ruled that the tipped pass had struck the turf before wide receiver Alfred Jackson caught it for an apparent touchdown. Replays showed that the call was incorrect, but the NFL had not yet embraced replay as an officiating tool. So the call on the field stood and was looming large when, trailing the Saints by four in the last half-minute, Atlanta dialed up “Big Ben” again, this time to the right.

From his own 43-yard line, quarterback Steve Bartkowski heaved the ball down the right sideline. A group of six players were waiting around the Saints’ 10 when the throw finally descended from the Superdome ceiling.

“My job is to tip the ball up and keep it alive,” Falcons receiver Wallace Francis said. Francis, who became an ordained minister after his playing career, did just that. Thanks to his volleyball move, the Falcons still had a prayer.

“I follow right behind the crowd to get it when somebody tips it,” Jackson said. The play went down as a 57-yard pass from Bartkowski to Jackson that gave the Falcons a 20-17 victory.

After the game, Bennett said, “We practiced that play all week.” The assembled reporters laughed, not realizing the coach was serious. Before long, everybody knew.

Somehow, though, “Big Ben” never caught on as the term describing this tactic of last resort. The idea of prayer replaced the idea of beating the clock, and “Hail Mary” pushed “Big Ben” out of the football lexicon.

But anyone who has seen footage of Roger Staubach’s “Hail Mary Pass” to Drew Pearson (and at this point, who hasn’t?) knows that it was a much different type of play. Restricted by the same rules that clouded the “Immaculate Reception” in controversy, Pearson made his memorable 50-yard touchdown catch in the 1975 playoffs while going one-on-one with Minnesota Vikings cornerback Nate Wright. The two were running side by side. There was no crowd waiting for the ball to come down, and in no way did the play resemble volleyball.

Perhaps it was because Staubach was one of the game’s most popular players and his Dallas Cowboys one of its most popular teams. Perhaps it was because Staubach, good Catholic that he is, told reporters after the game that he just threw the ball to Drew and said a Hail Mary. Or perhaps it was because there is simply too much religiosity in football.

Whatever the reason, “Hail Mary” pass has become a generic term, rather than a reference to a specific play in NFL history. And the contributions of the 1978 Atlanta Falcons — who used “Big Ben” as a springboard to their first playoff berth in franchise history — are largely forgotten.

Sources: Ambassadors for Christ International USA; NFL.com; NFL Films; pro-football-reference.com; “1978 Wrap-up: A Wild and Crazy Season,” by John Jeansonne, Football Digest, April 1979, pages 78-85.

Posted November 12, 2015, and updated December 4, 2015

What’s wrong with the NFL, and how it can be fixed

“The actual malady is that football has gotten away from its essence. Football wasn’t made to be played in a domed stadium on a rug. Players are supposed to get dirty. Every team isn’t supposed to call the same plays and look the same. Offense and defense are supposed to be evenly matched. Officials are supposed to regulate the action, not dictate it.”

— Paul Zimmerman, “Dr. Z’s Rx To Revive The NFL,”
Sports Illustrated, November 12, 1984

I wholeheartedly agree with every word from this magazine excerpt published 31 years ago. Sadly, Paul Zimmerman has endured multiple strokes; he suffers from aphasia and is unable to express his thoughts in words the way he once did to such great effect. But the longtime Hall of Fame voter and football historian remains one of my favorite sports writers, and his description of what’s wrong with the NFL rings just as true today as it did in 1984.

During my schoolboy and college years, the 1970s and ’80s, I was an NFL nut. I considered every televised game must-see TV, planting my butt in front of the set from 12:30 p.m. (when “The NFL Today” kicked off on CBS) to the last spoken word on the post-game show shortly after 7 that night. As soon as the telecast ended, I experienced a letdown, similar to the morning after Christmas, because I knew I’d have to wait a long time — nearly a whole week — to enjoy another NFL Sunday. The disappointment was especially strong in those years when I was too young to stay up late and watch “Monday Night Football” to its conclusion. As the years went on, I made an attempt to chronicle the game’s history by collecting newspaper and magazine articles, box scores clipped from sports pages, even episodes of ESPN’s “NFL Primetime” that I recorded on video cassette.

That’s the way it was when I loved football. But I don’t love football anymore. In fact, I barely recognize it. And I can’t help but think that other longtime fans might feel the same way.

Now that the 2015 season has reached its halfway point, I will attempt to follow Dr. Z’s example and outline what I’d like to see changed in pro football:

1) Break up with your “fantasy” girlfriend — On Tuesday, New York State Attorney General Eric Schneiderman demanded that DraftKings and FanDuel — the two leaders in the suddenly booming daily fantasy sports (DFS) business — stop taking bets from fans in the Empire State. His cease-and-desist order finds DFS to be an illegal “contest of chance,” not a game of skill. In Nevada, where such games of chance are legal, regulators declared last month that DFS is a form of gambling and ordered fantasy companies to acquire gaming licenses in order to continue operating. The fantasy sports money-making machine is also being investigated by the United States attorney in Manhattan, a grand jury in Florida and the FBI office in Boston, where DraftKings’ headquarters are located.

For decades, the NFL has fought vigorously to distance itself from the gambling establishment. The policy was made clear in 1963, when commissioner Pete Rozelle suspended star players Paul Hornung and Alex Karras for an entire season, even though Hornung never bet on his Packers to lose and Karras’ wagers amounted to a relative pittance. Through the years, the NFL has used its considerable political clout and litigation budget to ensure that betting on games against the point spread remains confined to Las Vegas, Reno and other oases of legalized gambling across the nation.

But now the league has welcomed DFS with open arms, bringing DraftKings and FanDuel into the family as two of the NFL’s biggest sponsors. The twin behemoths of DFS have replaced Viagra and Cialis as the two most annoying, most omnipresent advertisers on NFL broadcasts. This about-face by the league not only reeks of hypocrisy, but also stands as the surest sign yet that the NFL has sold its soul for money.

To be fair, pro football isn’t the only professional sport that is making big bucks off fantasy sports these days. Baseball, hockey, even auto racing have made similar, though undoubtedly less lucrative deals. But just as the NFL set the example for other sports in 2001 by postponing its slate of games the week after the attacks of 9/11, the league can lead the way for the rest of the sports world by disassociating with DFS businesses and making its multimillion-dollar deals only with advertisers that are indisputably above board.

Will that happen? Don’t bet on it.

2) Keep the cons out of the pros — The Dallas Cowboys have been at the center of a firestorm because Greg Hardy is wearing their uniform. The release last week of photos detailing the physical abuse Hardy’s ex-girlfriend endured intensified the calls for Jerry Jones to kick the standout defensive lineman off his team.

Keep in mind that Hardy was not acquitted in his assault case, which detailed how he dragged his girlfriend across the floor by her hair, threw her onto a futon that was “upholstered” with assault rifles, and choked her so that she thought she was going to die. Hardy merely took advantage of a North Carolina judicial process that badly needs reform. A judge found Hardy guilty in a bench trial, and the case likely would have ended there for a less affluent defendant. But Hardy’s hefty NFL salary allowed him to appeal the judge’s ruling and get a second chance in a jury trial. Only there was no jury trial, because the alleged victim in the case declined to cooperate. She reportedly was paid off, as Hardy’s hefty NFL salary again helped him walk away from a situation that would have landed a poorer man in jail.

The Carolina Panthers, with whom Hardy emerged as one of the NFL’s top pass rushers, parted ways with him — and in a happy example of the good guys winning, Carolina is now undefeated without Hardy while Dallas is in last place with him. Unfortunately, it only takes one team owner to get a bum like Hardy back on an NFL payroll, and Jones was willing to be that owner. Jones has gotten what he deserves. Dallas has lost six straight games, and since joining the team, Hardy has added to the embarrassment, expressing no remorse in public comments that often come across as ignorant and insensitive.

Hardy would fit better in a police lineup than he does in Dallas’ starting lineup. And while a certain woman might be richer, she also might still live in fear of her 280-pound ex who is known to have a violent side. The NFL does have less tolerance for domestic violence than it did a few years ago — but less tolerance needs to become zero tolerance.

3) Give D’s a chance — Now, at last, I will begin to look at the product on the field. The fact that it’s taken me this long speaks volumes about what’s wrong with today’s game.

Paul Zimmerman says, “Offense and defense are supposed to be evenly matched.” But never in the history of the NFL has the playing field been less level than it is today. Rules changes have made it virtually impossible for a defense to dominate. Far too often, defenses play the role of the Washington Generals while the Harlem Globetrotters on offense make them look foolish.

Seriously, why would any athlete in his right mind want to play on an NFL defense? All the odds are stacked against him. If he makes a hard hit, he’s likely to draw both a penalty during the game and a fine from the league office days after the game. The quarterback holds all the cards. Defenders must keep their hands off receivers, pass blockers are free to use their hands, and pass rushers are likely to get flagged if they so much as sneeze on the quarterback after the ball is thrown. No wonder Tom Brady says he wants to play past the age of 40 — the pass pocket is a pretty safe place to work.

The NFL had good intentions when it legislated dangerous hits out of the game, but recent rules changes gave too many advantages to the offense. If a tackler cannot grab the facemask, then a ball carrier who grabs a tackler’s facemask when making a stiff-arm needs to be penalized, too. If receiver and defender are hand-fighting while the pass is in the air, then no penalty should be called — just let the players play and may the better man win.

Mainly, though, officiating crews need to show common sense. If an innocent play is technically against the rules but clearly presents no danger to the players involved, don’t throw the penalty flag. Again, I quote Dr. Z: “Officials are supposed to regulate the action, not dictate it.”

4) Make a catch less fishy — While the forward pass dominates the NFL landscape like never before, the definition of a completed pass has never caused more confusion. That’s because NFL rules, in addition to being heavily loaded in the offense’s favor, are also far more complicated than they have to be.

For what constitutes a reception, make two rules: one for plays in which the receiver must reach above his head to grab the ball, and the other for all other situations. When the receiver reaches above his head, he needs only to bring the ball down to his waist and hold it in a runner’s position — as the Cowboys’ Dez Bryant did against the Packers in last season’s playoffs — in order to complete the catch. In all other instances, including passes along the sideline or on the goal line, the receiver must maintain control of the ball when he hits the ground in order to get credit for a reception. This change would prevent a non-catch from being ruled a touchdown — as was the case Oct. 18, when Golden Tate of the Lions bobbled the ball at the goal line before he hit the ground and saw the pass intercepted by the Bears. I’m not the only observer still scratching my head over why that play was ruled a touchdown.

On one play, Bryant clearly maintained control of the ball as he moved it through space a good five yards. On the other, Tate allowed a defender to pop the ball out of his hands before demonstrating that he could move the ball through space even a little bit. Yet Bryant wasn’t credited with a reception and Tate was. How is that fair?

5) Simplify the overtime format — Then there is the debacle of overtime. Again, the NFL has made the rule much more difficult than it has to be. The purpose of overtime is to break a tie — not create one. But because of the NFL’s cockamamie rule, it is now possible for an overtime to include a go-ahead field goal, then a tying field goal, then — at last — the winning field goal, which is exactly what happened Nov. 2 in the Colts-Panthers Monday night game. Ridiculous. This is football — not baseball. It’s a game of aggression in which possession of the ball must be earned by stopping the opponent. There’s no taking turns in football!

Only one change should have been made to the previous first-score-wins format — the team that takes possession first in overtime is not allowed to attempt a field goal at the end of that possession. Enforcement of this rule would be as follows: If, in the heat of the moment, a coach mistakenly sends his field-goal team onto the field on the opening possession of OT, no penalty is assessed but the referee stops the clock and politely orders the place-kicker to return to the bench. This would have restored the aura of sudden death while ensuring that the overtime coin toss does not have so much impact on determining the winner.

Sources — Deadspin; ESPN; NFL.com; NFL Films; Sports Illustrated; The New York Times.

Posted November 10, 2015

Arbour’s Islanders echoed the lessons of a respected teacher

The cornerstone of a hockey dynasty was faith. And with his team trailing three games to none in the quarterfinal round of the 1975 Stanley Cup playoffs, New York Islanders coach Al Arbour showed the door to the nonbelievers.

He did it, the late J.P. Parise recalled, before the Islanders hit the ice for practice between Games 3 and 4. “He showed all the confidence in the world, and belief in us,” Parise told MSG Networks in 2012. “And he just said, ‘If anybody who thinks we can’t come back and beat that team, I want you to leave right away, and we’re going to go with people who are willing to work and do this.’ It was amazing. … We didn’t dare disappoint him, but more it was just a reassurance and belief in ourselves that this was something that we could do.”

The Islanders went on to defeat the Pittsburgh Penguins in an epic comeback, becoming only the second team in any major North American sport ever to overcome a 3-0 series deficit. In the very next round, they nearly duplicated the feat, coming back after losing the first three to the Flyers to force a seventh game in Philadelphia. The Islanders lost Game 7 to those “Broad Street Bullies,” who went on to win the Cup for a second straight year. But in just their third season of existence, Arbour’s Islanders had made a statement.

No longer were they the hapless expansion team that had managed a record-low 30 points in 78 games only two years earlier. Their 8-1 record in elimination games, starting with Parise’s overtime goal in Game 3 of a best-of-three opening series against the Rangers, proved they could thrive in the clutch — despite the fact that the Islanders had never made the playoffs before and most of the players had zero postseason experience prior to that spring.

The following fall, my seventh-grade homeroom teacher at Sacred Heart School in Yonkers, N.Y., happened to be an Islander fan. His name was Mr. Thomas Sepi. In that 1975-76 school year, I was one of his pupils for both religion (it was a Catholic school) and American history. I often would talk about sports with him after class, and he sometimes sounded like a coach when he was making a teaching point.

“Never give up,” Mr. Sepi was fond of saying.

The Islanders never gave up because Al Arbour never gave up. And having Mr. Sepi as my teacher at that time deepened my appreciation of the Islanders’ never-say-die team identity.

“‘Can’t’ is the quitter’s national anthem,” Mr. Sepi would tell the class. Hours later, I would tune in to the Islanders’ game on WOR Channel 9 and see their can-do, no-quit attitude fuel their rise to the top of the National Hockey League. Or, if the game was at Nassau Coliseum and not available on over-the-air TV, I might listen to it on the radio. Mr. Sepi was the one who informed me that John Sterling — yes, Yankee fans, that John Sterling — was the Islanders’ radio play-by-play voice back then. More than once, I heard Mr. Sepi imitate Sterling’s trademark call of “GOAL! ISLANDER GOAL! ISLANDER GOAL!”

As inspired as I was by the Islanders’ perseverance, however, I still found it difficult to fully embrace the sport of hockey. The goon tactics that tarnished the NHL’s image for so many years were repulsive to me. I started collecting all kinds of sports articles in the mid-’70s, including a Time magazine cover story with the headline, “Hockey: War on Ice,” and a Sports Illustrated cover showing the Rangers and Islanders brawling under the headline, “A Violent Sport Turns Vicious.” I even recall watching with my brother when a Rangers-Flyers game turned so ugly that I didn’t want to see any more — I left the room.

For me to be willing to overlook all that, a team had to make quite an impression — and Arbour’s Islanders did. They helped me to see hockey in a new light, see it as a game of skill and courage. Meanwhile, back at school, Mr. Sepi made me proud to root for a hockey team that never gave up. So I kept on rooting for the Islanders, and in the decade that followed, they achieved a level of success that went far beyond my wildest seventh-grade dreams.

Four times in five years, the Islanders unveiled a rookie who would go on to a Hall of Fame career: Denis Potvin in 1973-74, Arbour’s first season as Islander coach; Clark Gillies, Mr. Sepi’s favorite Islander, in 1974-75; Bryan Trottier in 1975-76, and Mike Bossy in 1977-78. Each was acquired through the draft, and each made his debut at an age barely old enough to drink beer legally.

“There’s so many things that I can say about Al,” Potvin said. “I first met him when I was 19 years old and he coached me for 13 consecutive years. I don’t know how many athletes who have had that pleasure.”

“He was like a real father figure to all of us,” said Gillies. “We were a bunch of young kids. It was like having 20 young boys in the family and he was the father that kept us all under control.”

Arbour’s Islanders posted 100-point seasons and returned to the semifinals in 1976 and ’77. They were eliminated by the Montreal dynasty each time, but could offer their congratulatory handshakes with heads held high, since they were the only playoff opponent those two years that avoided being swept by the powerful Canadiens.

Then came two playoff upsets that tested Arbour’s faith in his boys like never before.

The Isles won their division for the first time in ’78, but were ousted by the Toronto Maple Leafs in overtime of Game 7, in a series marred by the kind of violence that gave hockey a bad name. The brawling and mayhem prompted an Islanders beat writer to begin one of his reports with this observation: “Toronto is a clean city with a dirty hockey team.”

I’ll never forget one newspaper photo from that series, taken from the ceiling of Maple Leaf Gardens and showing an overhead view of Bossy, flat on his back and motionless, just prior to being wheeled off the ice on a stretcher following a frightening hit from behind in Game 6. “They’ve been cheap-shotting us all series,” Bossy fumed afterward, expressing the venom that made the disappointing result all the more bitter.

The Islanders entered the 1979 playoffs believing this would be their year. It wasn’t. They finished first in the entire league during the regular season, but their championship hopes were dashed by the underdog Rangers in the semifinals. The drama and intensity of that six-game series captured the attention of New Yorkers who normally ignored hockey — even the girls in my high school were talking about it. As columnist Mike Lupica wrote in the Daily News, “The Rangers and Islanders have spoiled us. New York will never forget these hockey games.”

For Arbour, it was time to give his boys some tough love.

“It was the same thing as in the Toronto series,” Arbour said. “They felt sorry for themselves, losing right in their own backyard in a series they were supposed to win and didn’t. But it was our own doing. I didn’t want them to forget it. I wanted them to taste it for a while.”

Arbour and the Isles were just getting started. They went on to win the Stanley Cup four consecutive years. From 1980-84, they won 19 playoff series in a row — an astonishing record that might stand forever. They were so dominant that except for two memorable best-of-five openers that came down to an overtime goal in Game 5, the Islanders never faced elimination during the entire streak. Not once did they need a Game 7.

After the announcement Friday that Arbour had died at the age of 82, having battled dementia and Parkinson’s disease, the tributes came pouring in. Lupica recalled how Arbour encouraged reporters to interview his players, rather than basking in the attention and taking the credit himself.

Arbour finished his career No. 2 in NHL history in coaching wins, and his 740 victories with the Islanders are the most by any coach with one team. But he was also remembered for his humility, decency and kindness. Former Newsday beat writer Pat Calabria said that one day when he fell ill at the practice rink, Arbour stunned him by offering him a lift home.

“Here was one of the great coaches of all time driving me to my house. I can’t think of another coach of that stature who would do something like that,” Calabria said.

“You’ll never find a better man, or a better coach, for that matter,” longtime Islanders broadcaster Jiggs McDonald told Newsday.

Many of his former players including Gillies, Trottier and Brent Sutter (who was Islander teammates with his brother Duane) referred to Arbour as a father figure. And like a good dad, Arbour told his boys that he believed in them.

“Al Arbour was a man that left us not only feeling like champions, but left us with a lot of great memories that we can carry on through life,” Potvin said.

“Al used to say that negative energy that you’re feeling, turn it into a positive energy. That has never left me. I know many of my teammates must feel the very same way. He just never felt that anything was insurmountable.”

Posted August 28, 2015

Sources: Islanders’ team website; NHL.com; MSG Networks; Sportsnet; The New York Islanders: Countdown to a Dynasty by Barry Wilner (Leisure Press, 1983); Total Stanley Cup: The Official Encyclopedia of the Stanley Cup (Total Sports Publishing Inc., 2000); Time magazine (February 24, 1975); Sports Illustrated (November 17, 1975); The (Yonkers) Herald Statesman (April 25 and April 27, 1978); Daily News; Newsday.