OT - Here's to the worst managing since... McNamara? Zimmer?
Destiny Gets Big Assist From Little
By Thomas Boswell
Friday, October 17, 2003; Page D01
NEW YORK
What Johnny Pesky did for relay throws and Bill Buckner did for routine ground balls, Grady Little did for managing Thursday night at Yankee Stadium.
Pesky hesitated and a World Series was lost. Buckner lifted his glove an instant too soon and another world title evaporated. Now, add Little to the Boston Red Sox litany of infamy. The second-year manager froze at the switch, leaving his exhausted ace Pedro Martinez on the mound in the eighth inning before a howling Yankee throng Thursday night. With a 5-2 lead and only five outs left to grab the American League pennant, Little ignored a bullpen that had allowed only one run in 161/3 innings in this postseason.
Instead, as the baseball world watched in disbelief, Little sat glued to his seat as Derek Jeter doubled, Bernie Williams singled, Hideki Matsui doubled and, finally, Jorge Posada doubled to tie the score at 5.
By the time Little finally waved to his bullpen -- which performed perfectly for the next 22/3 innings -- the lead and the flag were gone. Baseball always ensures that such monumental gaffes have their appropriate punishment, no matter how cruel they seem. On the first pitch of the 11th inning, the Yankees' Aaron Boone blasted a Tim Wakefield knuckleball deep into the left field seats for a 6-5 New York victory.
"Derek Jeter told me that if we just waited the [Yankee] ghosts would show up," yelled a jubilant Boone after his pennant-winning home run.
Now, the Yankees will attempt to beat the Florida Marlins in the World Series and claim their 27th world title since the last Series triumph by a Red Sox team in 1918. For Red Sox fans -- hello, out there, are there any Red Sox fans left or did this finally kill off the last of the breed -- only anger and regret will be left. And, as always seems to be the case in Boston, one indisputable goat. Or, in New England's case, scapegoat.
For years, Red Sox fans will have the same bitter thought: "Somebody pass the dynamite. Put it under poor Grady's rear end. Light the shortest fuse you can find. Please, blow that man out of his seat and send him to the mound to get a new pitcher."
But Little never budged as this game -- and a role as a clear favorite in the World Series over the Marlins -- escaped. And now New England will have another installment of sorrow to regurgitate endlessly. Will this one-night saga be analyzed for another 85 years, the length of time since the last Red Sox world title? Why not? After this defeat, the Curse of the Bambino, or whatever you choose to call the psychological shackles that imprison the Red Sox, has risen in credibility to the level of a Euclidian postulate. If no man can disprove it, and every succeeding piece of evidence supports the theory, then it must be true, right?
Curses, foiled again. That's "curses" plural.
The same disastrous, seemingly preordained fate that befell the disbelieving Chicago Cubs earlier this week has now fallen like a ton of rocks on top of a Red Sox team that seemed even more certain of its pennant than the Cubs had been. At least the Cubs could, to a degree, blame one of their own fans. It's not fair, of course. The Cubs themselves allowed every one of the Florida Marlins eight eighth-inning runs in Game Six of the NLCS.
But where can the Red Sox point? Every serious fan understands that even the greatest pitchers run out of gas. Martinez has, in particular, been a six or seven inning pitcher for the last two years. Twice in this post-season he has thrown 130-pitch games -- well past his usual limit. In this Game 7 of the American League Championship Series, Martinez did everything that should have been asked of him. Through seven innings, he had allowed only two solo home runs to Jason Giambi. That three-run Red Sox lead -- the same margin held by the Cubs in the eighth inning of their potential pennant-clinching Game 6 -- would probably have been enough if Little had used his bullpen as he has in all 173 of the Red Sox' previous games this season.
But, when the greatest stakes are on the table, managers seem to become fixated with their superstar pitchers. "I'll lose with my best," is the dugout saying. And, year after year, the managers who fall for this mantra, actually do end up losing.
Perhaps Alan Embree, Mike Timlin and Scott Williamson, none headed to the Hall of Fame, would have met the same fate as Martinez. But there is another saying in baseball -- one used by the best managers, not the worst: "Lose the right way."
Little, as much as any manager in many years, lost the wrong way. The last nine New York hitters to face Martinez had three singles, three doubles and a home run. That's a .777 batting average and a 1.444 slugging percentage. Think maybe Pedro was losing it? Out in the bullpen were Embree, Timlin and Williamson who have had one of the most spectacular relief Octobers in many years. They've allowed four hits, three walks and one run in 161/3 innings while striking out 24 men.
As if to substantial the theory that Little was a true heir to the dismal Red Sox tradition of finding exotic ways to lose Game 7s in October, Embree and Timlin did, in fact, enter the game and pitch perfectly. With Posada on second base, Embree got Giambi to fly out to center field. Timlin then entered and escaped the eighth without further damage and worked a 1-2-3 ninth. Would they have pitched as well with a lead as in a tie game? Why not? The season was on the line either way.
© 2003 The Washington Post Company |
