The Anaheim Angels of Anaheim

The Los Angeles Angels of the 714 stumbled Wednesday night. The Yard would never gloat about a negative prognostication about a local team but these are not easy times and if gloating pays the rent so be it…http://tonyattheyard.blogspot.com/2008/09/patrons-of-yard.html. The Anaheim Angels of Orange County are playing like a team that won 100 games, won the division by 20+ games and has not played a meaningful baseball game since mid-June.

The Red Sox came in like grinders that bitch slapped the Yankees all year, battled the amazing Devil Rays, fought through injuries and traded their best hitter to the left coast in July. And despite the Yard’s well documented disdain for majority Red Sox owner John Henry, the Red Sox are the team that we want to see in the World Series against our beloved Azul. Manny in blue in Fenway will be one for the ages. The Yard would like to also clearly state that John Henry, Red Sox owner, is not John Henry, the famous gelding race horse. John Henry, Red Sox owner is a very successful gelding as well and his family has been walking upright for at least three generations by all accounts. No disrespect intended or potentially litigated.

On August 30th, the Los Angeles Dodgers of the 213, were 4 ½ games behind the Arizona Diamondbacks of the 602. 4 ½ games out with 25 to play is not insurmountable. Although, one might suggest that being 4 ½ games back, riding an eight game losing streak, and losing the first of three to the Snakes in the desert to fall this particular 4 ½ games behind might cause The Joe some intestinal discomfort. BTW: The Yard endorses Prilosec.

On this Phoenix Saturday night in August, with the roof closed, the AC on and the Jacuzzi in left field bubbling this game became the first real play off game of 2008. Diamondback #2 Ace Dan Haren is on the hill. If the Snakes win on this night, the Dodgers are 5 ½ games out with 24 to play. Suddenly Bruin Football is a reasonable diversion. The Yard can see The Joe playing cameos in Adam Sandler movies by mid-October. World Championships are shaped at moments like these.

Manny Ramirez has carried three different struggling teams into the playoffs during his career. The Indians had never sniffed the World Series in nearly 40 years before Manny arrived and have never since. The Red Sox had not won since 1918 before Manny, and have yet to win without him in the lineup. With his dreadlocks in left field, the Red Sox have won more championships than the Yankees in this century.

On that seminal Saturday night in Arizona, with the Dodger Season in the balance, Ned Colletti’s job on the line and Frank McCourt’s summer home in the Hampton’s hung up in the credit crunch, the Dreaded One went 4 for 5 with 2 home runs. Dodgers win 6-2 and go 18-7 in September to clinch the West.

So last night, with 42,099 tortured souls screaming, the Cubs up 2-0 and Rafael Furcal on 1st base, Cub pitcher Ryan Dempster is not going to give the “only” guy who can beat him anything to hit. Dempster knows about that Saturday night in the desert, he knows that there is a witch at the plate and he knows, you throw junk to a witch in October. He walked Rafael Furcal worrying about Manny. He has Manny 0-2 and then he walks the best two strike hitter in baseball. With the demons of Wrigley swirling, he loses his composure and walks Ethier.

With 100 years of futility writhing in the evening air and the bases loaded, a 24 year old first baseman Dodger named James Loney rips a two strike Grand Slam to win Game One. The Chicago faithful went from ecstasy to agony in a time span that can only be measured in laboratories. Manny had nothing and everything to do with that young Cub pitcher’s psyche and the sequence of pitches that created that moment that changed that game. Baseball is chess, not squash. John Henry, you do not want to see #99 in Fenway in two weeks. He hits the October balls like no other in history and he still has both of his. You might want to start looking for yours. And Artie Moreno, stay out of our area code, the Dodgers will always own Los Angeles and have no interest in Anaheim.

And while the beguiled from the bleachers threw Loney’s grand slam ball back on to the playing field, 100 years of torment leeched into the groundwater. The Yard