October 31, 2006
Cards Win Series, Experts Upset
Cardinal Nation is giddy after our beloved Cards won the world series. I got to hear the final inning called by an eleven year old watching it on a battery powered TV in a muddy field. We were camping at S-F scout ranch and had all gone to our tents for the night.
Boy I don't get it, the Cardinals win the World Series, and a lot of people are more upset than usual that their team didn't win. Let's get one thing straight: TV ratings for the World Series have been dropping for a while - last year's contest was the worst rated up until this years, and with the scorn the national media heaped on the Cardinals, would the average fan tune in?
But were the Cardinals really that bad a team? I don't think so, and the team in October looked far more like the guys who stormed out to a 32-17 record at the start of the season than the guys who stumbled around in September and almost blew winning the division. And why not, they weren't the same guys.
The gradual accretion of outcomes - pitch after pitch, at-bat after at-bat, game after game - yields a deep body of evidence about which teams and players are the best. By the end of the season, we know not only who's more valuable, but by how much.
The problem with that is that when it isn't the same players, and or when it is the same players but they are playing with injuries, the gradual accretion of outcomes doesn't tell you anything.
At least there are some people who aren't St. Louis Fans who think the Cards were underappreciated:
The Cardinals team we saw over the last few weeks is the same one we've seen pretty much every year this decade, when they've been on one of the less-remarked upon runs of greatness I can think of. With the exception of this year and 2003, the Cardinals have won between 93 and 105 games every year this decade. In every year save 2003, they've either won the National League pennant or been beaten by the team that did. Short of the Yankees and Braves, no team has had a more successful run in the wild card era.
Personally, I take this year as compensation for 2004, when the 105 victory Cardinals lost to the wild card Red Sox in four straight and looked nothing like the team that played in the regular season. I just wish Larry Walker was two years younger so he could have been there for the win.
As for those who remain unconvinced, well, too bad. Get over it, the Cardinals won. I don't care what you think because reality says otherwise.
September 12, 2005
The Greatest Moment in Sports
It's fall, when a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of . . . sports. Football is in season, as well as soccer, field hockey, lacrosse, and a bunch of other team sports. I started to think: What has been, for me, the all-time greatest moment in sports history?
#2 is "The Catch" during the 1982 NFC championship game, when Dwight Clark leaped 30 feet in the air to catch a pass in end zone from Joe Montana to beat the Dallas Cowboys. #3 is my older brother Paul winning the 1975 Fourth of July bicycle race in Chatham Township, New Jersey. But Number One? #1 happened during halftime at a Stanford University football game, sometime during 1978-1981.
Up until The Moment, this was a Stanford football game like any other. Stanford was playing some long-forgotten team, and I was sitting in the student section. When halftime began, we were doing what college students always do: getting a beer, checking out the chicks, shading ourselves from the hot sun, and wondering why I didn't scalp my ticket and spend 3 hours working on my Physics 61 problem set with Kevin instead?
The announcer came on: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special treat for you today. The Palo Alto Pee-Wee Football League will put on an exhibition game for your enjoyment. These kids are from local football teams . . ." and two pee-wee football teams trotted out onto the field.
These little kids could not have been more than 5 years old! More like 3 and 4. They were tiny! In the vastness of Stanford Stadium all I could see were these miniscule figures balancing a large football helmet on top of their little bodies. It seemed incredible that they could even onto a football with their little arms.
The pee-wees lined up at scrimmage along the 50 yard line. There was no thought of a kickoff. The announcer proclaimed a count, a hike, and then all the little guys fell down. There were some scattered cheers. Where's that beer vendor dude when you need him?
Another count, another hike, and this time I perceived a bit of motion before the little guys all fell down. Oooh, check out that babe! Yeah, she's in my karate class. That's Tracy Kristofferson.
Okay, the little tykes all fell down a third time. And here comes the announcer again, which is good because I can't see what the heck is going on down there on the field. "Ladies and Gentlemen! The Palo Alto East team has gained 15 yards, which is a first down. But we want to let the other team show their offense, so the Palo Alto West team will take over on their own 35-yard line."
Okay, that's fair. This is just an exhibition game, anyway. One set of little toy football players ran off the field, and another set came on. They lined up. They counted. They hiked.
The play they ran was a sweep, a fairly simple play where the quarterback hands off to a halfback and he runs to his right (in this case). The trick to making a sweep work is that you have to turn the corner. It's not enough to dash toward the sidelines and run out of bounds; at some point you have to get to the side of the field ahead of the defending team, turn left, and run down the field. You hope to get to your turning point before the defenders through surprise or sheer speed.
Okay, Palo Alto West is running a sweep. It'll never work - they'll just chase him down. Thanks for the beer, dude. Keep the change. (Sip.) Ah, that tastes good!
Son-of-gun, they're still running their sweep. Holy Moses! I think that little guy is going to turn the corner! Yes, he's making it!! He's almost in the clear!!!
Little kids just can't run very fast, even the superbly trained athletes in the Palo Alto Pee-Wee Football League. The hilarious thing about The Moment was how incredibly slowly it developed! Yes! He's across the 50-yard line, and he's got a couple of defenders closing in on him in slow motion from the side! Go, little kid, go!!!
And now he's across the 40-yard line! Time seems to stand still, or at least move very slowly. By now the activity on the field has attracted the attention of the entire stadium, and the fans have dropped what they are doing and woken up to the fact that Something Exciting is happening on the field! The cheers are starting to build louder and louder!
He's across the 30-yard line! And . . . inch . . . by . . . painful . . . inch . . . he is pulling away from his pursuers! Oh my gosh, I think that little guy is going to make it all the way!!!
He crosses the 20! By now the entire stadium is on its feet and 70,000 people are screaming at the top of their lungs! "Go, Go, GO!!!" There's a tiny bit of daylight between Our Hero and the two remaining defensive backs who are still giving chase! I still can't believe how slowly this is happening.
The 10-yard line! The roar of the fans is deafening!!! The announcer must be hollering, too, but he's totally drowned out by the crowd! I am dimly aware of something cold and wet and carbonated running down my leg and into my shoe.
TOUCHDOWN ! ! ! Stanford Stadium absolutely explodes in a cataclysm of sound!!! The cheers, the laughter, the screams of pure joy are absolutely overwhelming!!! That was fantastic!
The exhibition game is over, and the poor little kid is obviously exhausted from running 70 yards at his top speed. He hands the football to the ref, and is swarmed by his happy teammates. Everybody in the stands gives the Palo Alto Pee-Wee Football League a huge standing ovation for their thrilling demonstration of the joy of sport!
Were you there at this game? Do you remember this moment? Can you recall any additional information that I have garbled in my account? If so, please add your perspective to the Comment section of this post.
