Baseballhead:
Pennant Purgatory

Michael Cox

O happy day! Baseballhead is here one more time, and this week we're sympathizing with MTV, who can't understand how their Video Music Awards keep tanking in the ratings (hint: in future, try to keep Gwen Stefani from winning both Best Female Video and Best Male Video).

With but a few scant weeks left in the regular season, all the excitement about the wild and wooly pennant races, and especially about the new teams therein, has given way to the stunning realization that we're going to end up with the same teams that always make the playoffs these days. With the Braves and Astros starting to pull away in the NL East and Central, and the West race looking like a D-Backs/Giants tilt with the loser taking the Wild Card, we're entering the Land of Deja Vu all over again.

The media has recently tried to add some spice by implying that the Mets are surging, and that these can-do New Yorkers, with their new-found "fire" and "spirit" (in the press, surges are never caused by better play, but by better attitude) and led by Gold Glove Award Winning Shortstop Rey Ordoñez, are actually challenging for the AL East lead. The fact that they still aren't even a .500 team is a mere detail.

Meanwhile, Phillies manager Larry Bowa and front office ne'er-do-well Dallas Green just can't stop talking about how bad their players are, while the rest of the world thinks the team has overachieved on the level of, say, a Forrest Gump, or Rocky Balboa in the very first Rocky. In the minds of Bowa and Green, theirs is a club who should have been dominating all comers, instead of holding its contusion-laced head up high and bellowing, "Yo, Adrian!!"

We'll see how long these two last next season, when their team returns to its regularly-scheduled futility.

Duquette's Folly: Things aren't any better in Boston, where the good ship Red Sox is taking on water like the Edmund Fitzgerald. ("What," you say? Sounds like someone had better go back and listen to their Gordon Lightfoot). When we last left GM Dan Duquette, he had just fired manager Jimy Williams, and hoping that with several injured stars returning, it would look like another masterful move, thus keeping him in a job for another year.

Unfortunately, the move backfired, as none of the team's collection of closers could actually close, then Nomar Garciaparra's wrist started acting up again, as did Pedro Martinez' shoulder. Duquette reacted as you'd expect a desperate man to react, in essence telling the public that Martinez is lying about the pain in his arm. What? Dr. Lewis Yocum found a tear in Pedro's rotator cuff? The Red Sox doctor didn't find a tear, and who would you believe: that mean old Dr. Yocum, or our fine, home-town doctor?

It's a little like the climactic scene in Trading Places, where, after his scheme backfires and he loses his entire fortune, Don Ameche shrieks, "Turn those machines back on! Turn those machines back on!!!" But will it spell the end of the cozy relationship between Duquette and current Sox head John Harrington? I've long suspected that Duquette would keep his job until the Yawkey Trust finds a new owner for the team, but now there's a chance the change may happen sooner. A small chance, perhaps, but a chance nevertheless.

From the Wile E. Coyote desk: The Twins' second-half implosion, triggered at almost the exact moment they sent Matt Lawton away for Rick Reed, has not only left them virtually out of the race, but battling to stay over .500 for the season. Currently seven games in the black, the blame for their crash-and-burn has been placed on the shoulders of the bullpen, when in fact every aspect of their play has turned mediocre.

Then again, there were signs early on that the Twins would be unlikely to finish the season the way they started, primarily their inability to beat good teams -- their early record was built mainly on the backs of their own divisionmates. After the All-Star break, the Twinks went on a 3-12 losing jag when they had to face the Cards, A's and Mariners. They've only played division rivals nine times since the break, and predictably they went 5-1 against the Royals, but were swept by the rejuvenated Tribe.

So maybe there's still hope: the remainder of Minnesota's season has them playing division rivals, although six of those contests are against Cleveland. Prediction: a barely over-.500 finish, and a ton more $1 hot dog nights next season if they hope to draw many fans.

From the You Go! desk: Clubbing three in Colorado (if there's a better place to club three, I haven't found it), Barry Bonds has the likes of Rick Reilly and Jim Rome scared that he'll actually break Mark McGwire's record, putting the lie to the idea that his very media unfriendliness would somehow be his undoing. In fact, the pouting press might be lighting a fire under Bonds' ass better than any friendship could.

I like it. The media is now trying to justify their hatred by grousing that Bonds isn't "taking us on his ride" like McGwire did, conveniently forgetting that Mac strictly limited press access during the final weeks of his assault on Maris. Bonds may be doing more press right now that McGwire did after he hit number 60. In 1998, the quotes were coming from Sammy Sosa, who got so caught up in the showbiz aspect of hitting homers that the next year he debuted a special home plate celebration after each dinger, "for the fans" of course, which caused the hitter following him to require repeated Spaldingectomies before Sammy decided it wasn't such a great idea after all.

I know the Bonds/media battle is old news, so I won't rehash it here, aside from a couple of observations: Jeff Kent, Reilly's star witness in his attempt to make you hate Bonds in a recent SI, apparently is as disliked in the clubhouse as Bonds. Several players have stepped forward (just not enough forward to be recognized) to declare their distaste for Kent's crabbiness and lack of respect for fans. But he talks to the press and Bonds doesn't, so Kent's a good guy to the likes of Reilly.

Lastly, I wanted to offer a Bonds memory of my own -- every couple of years or so, I make it to Dodger Stadium to watch the Dodgers take on the Giants (and the Giant fans, who actually make Chavez Ravine a lively place for a few days a year). On this evening, a fan ran onto the field and made a beeline to Bonds in left field. Normally you'd expect the paramilitary Dodger Stadium security squad to have squashed said interloper like a cockroach, but this fan was different: he was a kid, about 10-12 years old.

The boy runs up to Bonds, hands him a piece of paper and sharpie, and instead of waiting for security to arrive, Bonds gives the kid an autograph, and the Dodger Stadium crowd applauds.

Haven't seen Mark McGwire do that.