Monday, August 31, 2020

Game 163, Part IV: Unheralded Heroes

The 10th inning of Game 163, as recounted in Part III, was one for the ages.  Each team had scored a run in exciting fashion.  Each team had players in the bottom third of their lineups come through with RBI base hits.  By all rights Nick Punto's liner to left should have ended the game, but the resulting double play was nothing short of miraculous.  Even after the first few pitches of the eleventh inning had been thrown, the crowd was still buzzing with disbelief and astonishment.

Perhaps the baseball gods sensed that we needed a time out before things got ginned up again, so they brought us the 11th inning.  The 11th was everything the 10th was not.  Both sides went three up and three down.  That is not to say the managers put their feet up and relaxed.  Twins skipper Ron Gardenhire used three different pitchers to face the three Detroit batters.  If there's anything Gardy loved when his team was in the field it was lefty versus lefty and righty versus righty.  After witnessing the 10th inning double play, Tigers manager Jim Leyland must have felt his team was destined to win at some point.  He was sticking with his closer, Fernando Rodney, even though Fernando by this time had thrown almost twice as many pitches (27) as what he'd typically throw on a short relief outing.

Despite its brevity there were a couple of noteworthy moments in the Twins' half of the 11th.  Denard Span hit a soft liner to centerfield to lead off the inning.  One would think centerfielder Curtis Granderson would have learned a "safety first" lesson after watching his teammate, left fielder Ryan Raburn, misplay Michael Cuddyer's leadoff single into a triple to start the 10th.  But no.  Granderson slid feet-first for Span’s sinking ball and...voila!  He came up with it.  Good for him because, had he missed a la Raburn, Leyland may have killed him on the grounds of justifiable homicide.

Orlando Cabrera followed Span by taking Rodney's first pitch for a strike.  It was another questionable call by home plate umpire Randy Marsh, as the ball was caught by catcher Gerald Laird only a few inches off the ground.  Cabrera took two steps back toward Marsh to argue, which of course was only asking for trouble.  Marsh pointed toward the batters' box as if to say, "You've got exactly one second to get back in there."  Cabrera complied but he was not pleased.  He fought off some tough pitches from Rodney but then got rung up by Marsh on another questionable call.  Once again the animated Columbian got into it with the man in blue, only this time Gardy came sprinting out of the dugout to pull his shortstop away before he got tossed.  This is pure conjecture on my part, but what might have made the difference enabling Cabrera to keep from getting ejected is that he was probably chirping at Marsh in Spanish.

***

Entering the 12th inning the Tigers had used five pitchers, one pinch hitter and two pinch runners, plus they had made a defensive replacement at a moment late in the game when they had a lead to protect.  The Twins going into the 12th had used one pinch hitter, one pinch runner, and like their opponent, had made one defensive replacement when they had a lead.  It is interesting to note that for each team, the player removed for a defensive replacement was one of their big boppers who had hit a home run in this game, Magglio Ordonez for the Tigers and Jason Kubel for the Twins, coincidentally both starting right fielders.  What their managers wouldn't give to be able to reinsert them now in this extra inning affair!

The biggest difference between the two managers was the manner in which they handled their pitching staffs. The Twins were on their eighth and final pitcher, Bobby Keppel, originally brought in by Gardy to get the last out in the Tigers’ half of the 11th.  Keppel needed only 4 pitches then to retire Placido Polanco, so Gardy had him start the 12th.  This, even though Keppel’s record this season was pretty dismal with a 4.96 E.R.A. and an opponents’ batting average of .300.  As for how Gardy's bullpen strategy differed from his counterpart's, you'll see when we get to the bottom of the 12th.

Keppel made short work of leadoff man Clete Thomas, Ordonez' defensive replacement who entered the game in the bottom of the 10th, getting him to hit a harmless liner to Carlos "Go Go" Gomez, Kubel's defensive replacement since the top of the 8th.  (Denard Span slid over from center field to right in the 8th, with Go Go taking over in center.)  Dangerous Miguel Cabrera coaxed Keppel for a seven pitch walk.  Don Kelly, who'd entered the game as a pinch runner in the 10th, made his first plate appearance as designated hitter, and this is where things got roiling again.  The weak-hitting Kelly, owner of a .236 batting average with 0 home runs to his credit, punched a Keppel fast ball into left center field.  Cabrera got a good read, correctly predicting left fielder Delmon Young would not be able to arrive at the ball before it hit the turf, so Cabrera easily reached third.  Young got to the ball on the first bounce but he was running back and to his left, meaning that, fighting inertia, he would have to do a 180 degree spin to throw the ball to an infielder.  The proper play, as any experienced outfielder would attest, was for Young to throw the ball into second base, because (i) that would force Kelly to stay at first, thus keeping the double play in order, and (ii) there was no chance whatsoever of throwing out Cabrera at third.  Instead, Delmon did throw into third to no avail, and Kelly scampered to second.  The Tigers now had two runners in scoring position with just one out.  At first Gardenhire tried to disguise his emotions, slightly shaking his head subtly in disbelief at his left fielder's bonehead play.  After a few seconds he could not contain himself any longer, as he could be seen pacing through the length of the dugout waving his cap in agitated fashion and expressing himself verbally to anyone within earshot.

Gardy smartly instructed Keppel to intentionally walk Ryan Raburn, thus loading the bases but also setting up a force at any base.  To this point Keppel had not walked anybody nor had he hit a batter, but doing either of those now would force in the go-ahead run.  Up stepped Brandon Inge, a money player who had stroked a double his last time up.  Another controversial call from home plate umpire Randy Marsh was on the way.

Benefitting the Twins was having Miguel Cabrera as the runner at third.  The big man was not fleet of foot, so the possibility of Leyland putting on a squeeze play was almost nil.  But in the Tigers' favor was this statistic from Inge's track record: In the previous seventeen times Inge had come to bat this season with the bases loaded, he had nine hits (for an eye-popping .529 average) including two grand slams.  This moment would have been excruciatingly tense even for a pitching staff's ace.  Imagine what it was like for Keppel, one of the low men on the food chain of the Twins' staff, whom Gardy had used this season mostly in middle innings and in blowouts.

Keppel's very first pitch to the right-handed Inge appeared to be a two-seam fastball that tailed inside an inch or two above the belt.  As Inge spun with his front shoulder starting to aim toward the catcher, the ball appeared to graze his shirt, which was tucked in but loosely fitting.  Inge immediately reacted as one would who had been hit by a pitch, but Marsh emphatically shook his head "no."  Leyland rushed out of the first base dugout to plead Inge's case.  I saw Leyland pointing toward third base umpire Gary Cederstrom, obviously in an attempt to get Marsh to ask his partner for help.  Also obvious was Marsh tapping his own chest a couple of times, signifying that the call was his, not Cederstrom's, to make.  I was surprised Leyland remained unruffled, at least outwardly.  I wonder what his disposition was when he saw the same televised replay I did that evening.  It showed that Inge probably, but not conclusively, was hit by Keppel's pitch.

The drama surrounding the Inge at bat was not over.  Catcher Joe Mauer saved a run by making a fabulous block on a fast ball which ricocheted off the dirt several feet wide of the plate.  After fouling off a 2-2 pitch, Inge knocked a fastball into the dirt directly in front of home.  The chopper was headed on a path very similar to Matt Tolbert's game-tying RBI single in the 10th.  But Inge's ball never made it out of the infield, thanks to quick-thinking second baseman Nick Punto.  The Twins infield had been at double play depth, hoping to turn a DP which would end the Tigers' threat.  When Punto saw how high Inge's ball was heading he did not lie back waiting for the ball to come to him.  Instead he charged the ball, and with his momentum carrying him toward the mound made a perfect throw off the wrong foot to Mauer to force out the sliding Miggy.  It was the Twins' defensive highlight of the evening for several reasons.  Punto had to decide immediately (and most likely correctly) that the ball was hit too slowly to allow for a 4-6-3 double play; the hustling Inge, even on bad wheels, would have had time to beat the relay throw from shortstop Orlando Cabrera.  And, getting the ball to Cabrera would have required Punto to throw in the opposite direction from where he was headed.  Punto also had to contend with second base umpire Jerry Layne and pitcher Keppel getting in his way.  Layne, anticipating a Punto throw to the shortstop, was starting to move toward second base.  Keppel also seemed surprised that Punto was throwing home; the 6' 5" pitcher was in the line of fire and had to duck to afford Punto a clear throwing lane.  Catcher Mauer also keenly observed that a 4-2-3 DP was out of the question, so he concentrated on getting the force-out by stretching his 6' 5" frame like a first baseman to secure the throw.  The force-out illustrated what can be done defensively with smart, heady ball players.

After the excitement of that bang bang play, it felt like the inning should be over.  The Twins fans were high-fiving all over the Metrodome, some offering toasts with whatever adult beverages they had snuck into the place.  The decibel level was off the charts.  But alas, there were only two outs and the bases were still loaded with Tigers.  Gerald Laird, a very fine catcher but a weak hitter, slowly made his way to the plate.  Laird had already batted three times today with a runner in scoring position.  In each instance he proceeded to make the final out of the inning.  The fourth time was not to be the charm.  Although he got into a 3-1 hitter's count, he ended up whiffing on a nasty, sinking, full count fastball.  Leyland may have felt destiny was on his side after the Raburn-to-Laird double play in the 10th, but it faded after Punto's stellar 12th inning play, and evaporated immediately thereafter with Laird's K.  They would prove to be the final two offensive outs of the Tigers' 2009 season.

***

By the time the Twins came to bat in the bottom of the 12th, Game 163 had been going on for four hours and thirty-two minutes.  How ironic that the endurance test came to a quick consummation with a five minute, four batter half-inning.

I thought I was seeing things when Leyland sent Rodney out to the mound to start the home half of the 12th.  The poor guy had already thrown 36 pitches since coming on in the 9th.  Sure, Rodney was a perfect 36 for 36 this season in save opportunities, but were the Tigers pressing their luck?  No one was warming up in the Tigers bullpen.  Was the manager worrying about tomorrow's game, resting his other pitchers to face the Yankees?  Jimmy, my man, to get to the Bronx you first have to win this game.  Rodney was a closer, not a long reliever!  The last time he pitched three innings was August of 2008, fourteen months ago.

Carlos "Go Go" Gomez led things off for the Twins.  Gomez was hitting only .226, but his excellent speed made him well-suited for this role, if only he could get on base.  Rodney was losing some velocity, causing him to resort to more off speed stuff.  Gomez drilled a changeup through the hole into left field, a hole made a little wider than usual by virtue of third baseman Inge having to play up on the infield grass to guard against a bunt.

The chatter among the baseball gurus in the stands was in full swing.  Most figured the Twins would try to get Go Go to second via one of two ways, either a Gomez steal or a sacrifice bunt by the next batter, Michael Cuddyer.  Neither tactic was used.  Gomez took a huge lead off first but he did not test Laird's cannon arm.  Instead of bunting, Cuddy grounded out to Inge along the line, 5-3, with Go Go taking second on the play.  Cuddy didn't get credit for a sacrifice, but he did manage to get Go Go into scoring position.

Leyland then had to decide whether to walk Delmon Young intentionally to set up a double play, or to pitch to the usually undisciplined hitter who was one for five in the game.  Leyland chose the former, not what I would have done given the fact that the on deck hitter, Alexi Casilla, was fast enough to beat out most DP attempts.

And now a word about Mr. Casilla.  To be fair, Gardenhire used him more as a utility player than someone who could be counted on to be an important part of the Twins' offensive arsenal.  In 256 plate appearances this season, the twenty-five year old had only 17 RBIs.  In mid-season there was a stretch of games in which Casilla had a chance to do something big, but he seldom rose to the occasion.  Gina and I attended one of those mid-season games in which Casilla struck out, leaving important runners stranded on base.  In one of my finer moments I opined to my daughter, "Casilla could not hit his way out of a paper bag."  I remembered those words of wisdom now as he strode to the plate.

Once again the Tigers' respect for Gomez' speed affected the infield's positioning.  Shorstop Everett and second baseman Polanco were "pinching" second base, i.e., playing closer to the bag to undermine Go Go's desire to take an aggressive lead.  Even though first baseman Miggy was not holding Young (whose potential run meant nothing) on the bag, the fact that Polanco was playing near the second base bag left a large hole on the right side of the infield for the lefty Casilla.  Such defensive strategy was a risk Leyland was willing to take partly because his left and right fielders, Raburn and Clete Thomas, had strong arms.  In other words, the Tigers hoped an outfield single would not necessarily score Go Go if he was not allowed to take a big lead off second.

In his career to date, Casilla was three for five (.600) against Rodney.  The kid looked unfazed as he glanced from the batter's box toward third base coach Scott Ullger for a sign.  If he saw the big gap on the right side of the infield, he did not let on.  Rodney's first two pitches, a ball and a strike, were changeups.  Maybe Rodney was incapable of throwing a fastball anymore due to arm fatigue.  Or, maybe the wily veteran was really trying to set the kid up for a fastball.  The set up didn't fool Casilla, who hit a 95 m.p.h. fastball through that right side hole.  The ball bounced at least seven times before Thomas could scoop it, while Gomez was flying around third.  Before Thomas' very high throw reached Laird's catcher's mitt, Go Go slid on his chest across the plate with the division-winning run. Final score: Twins 6, Tigers 5.

The ecstatic Twins ran full speed out of their dugout to mob Gomez, who had slammed his helmet to the ground with joy.  Somehow Mike Redmond, the thirty-eight year old reserve catcher who never got into the game, was the first to reach his teammate.  After almost bludgeoning Gomez with slaps and pats on the back and the head, the crazy mob turned to Casilla and repeated the assault.  The players were beside themselves with glee, as were the lucky fans who filled the Dome.  This is what walk-off victories are supposed to look like.  Conversely, the dejected Tigers, led by an exhausted Fernando Rodney, slowly retreated into the first base dugout.  Their season was over.

***

This was an epic game that had everything: extra base hits, superlative plays in the field, relatively solid pitching, some controversy regarding the perceived strike zone, and runners almost continually on the bases.  (In the game's twenty-four half-innings there was at least one baserunner in all but seven of them.)  If there were ever a game in any sport where the cliche "It's a shame one team had to lose" applied, this was The One.

Four things stand out in my memory.  First, I will always remember the Raburn-to-Laird double play in the bottom of the 10th and the Punto play in the top of the 12th.  Both incredible displays of athleticism in do-or-die moments.  Second, the constant stream of situations which compelled the two veteran managers, Gardenhire and Leyland, to make one decision after another: when to pinch hit, pinch run, bunt, steal, put in a defensive replacement, call on the bullpen, adjust the depth of the infielders, and maybe even offer words of encouragement from time to time.  The wheels were always turning.  In an interview a day or two later, Gardy said he and his counterpart met briefly and privately to congratulate each other on their respective team's efforts.  Third, redemption times two, both involving the 10th inning DP.  Raburn had made a horrible decision to attempt a diving catch on Cuddyer's leadoff triple.  But he redeemed himself after snagging Punto's liner with his throw to Laird to complete that inning with the 7-2 double play.  Casilla failed to tag properly at third base on the Punto liner, and as a consequence got thrown out at the plate.  His redemption came in the form of the game winning hit in the 12th.

The fourth item ties in to the sub-title of this Part IV: "Unheralded Heroes."  For the Tigers it was Brandon Inge, playing hurt yet temporarily saving the game with his amazing effort on Orlando Cabrera's rocket in the 9th, and whose double gave the Tigers a 5-4 lead in the 10th.  Not bad for a 7-hole hitter.  I also tip my hat to Fernando Rodney, whose manager kept asking for more.  (The lyric from U 2's song With Or Without You comes to mind: "You give it all but I want more.")

For the Twins I recognize two pairs of players.  Matt Tolbert and Nick Punto were the 8 and 9-hole hitters, but without their contributions -- Tolbert's dramatic game-tying RBI single in the 10th and Punto's multi-pitch at bats in the 7th and 9th plus his gutsy web gem in the 12th -- the Twins would have been in trouble.  (Also, let's not forget that if Casilla had tagged properly at third in the bottom of the 10th, Punto's liner to Raburn in left would have been a game-winning sac fly.)  The second pair is Carlos Gomez and Alexi Casilla, neither of whom were in the starting lineup.  But when their team needed them most in the final inning they did not disappoint.                    

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Game 163, Part III: Risky Business & Second Chances

I remember watching the Twins' two victorious World Series epic battles against the Cardinals and the Braves in 1987 and 1991. Each of those series went the maximum seven games, with the home team prevailing in all fourteen games.  Everyone in "Twins Territory" was completely drained, living and dying with every pitch.  People would show up for work or school the next day looking almost like zombies.  We were so connected to our team that the games became the focal point of our days for long stretches.

When the Twins won their second World Championship in 1991, only four years removed from their first, a feeling of inevitability overtook many fans.  Now that the Twins had it figured out, we fans could reasonably anticipate more World Series appearances without having to wait more than a handful of years before each one.  Making it to the World Series on a semi-regular basis became a reasonable expectation.  Would one appearance every four years be too much to ask?  Okay, we’ll settle for once every six years.  (Spoiler alert: The Twins’ have not made it back to the World Series since 1991. “Minnesota Twice,” a popular cheer and apparel logo in the fall of 1991, has taken on a new meaning.)

We should have known better.  Despite many very good seasons during which the Twins fell short of qualifying for the Series, by the time the 2009 season arrived the fandom had become resigned to the fact that it might be awhile before the Twins would be good enough to return to the Fall Classic.  As if we needed a reminder, who could forget that just one year before, the Twins lost a Game 163 in Chicago to the White Sox?  The final score was 1-0, the only run coming on a home run by future Twin Jim Thome.  In early September of '09 when it appeared Detroit had the AL Central title locked up, resignation in Twins Territory was ripe.  Well, at least we had football to look forward to.  But on that October day of Game 163 against the Tigers, after the Twins' late bloom during the last three weeks of September, maybe this was finally going to be our year after all.

***

Joe Nathan, the Twins' incomparable closer, had to be used earlier than manager Ron Gardenhire had wanted, being called upon to get the last two outs of the 8th inning plus three more in the 9th.  Only a near-miraculous double play turned by the infield, coupled with a base running mistake by Tiger veteraan Curtis Granderson, had enabled Nathan to escape the 9th.  He had thrown only twenty-one pitches, yet Nathan looked gassed.  There was no way he could be used to start the 10th.  That responsibility fell to Jesse Crain.

The scouting report on Crain was that he was a hard thrower, with probably the highest velocity on the staff, but his ball did not move.  His two-seamer looked like his four-seamer.  The first man he had to face was the Tigers' cleanup slugger, Miguel Cabrera, who had doubled and homered in his first two at bats.  Cabrera went after Crain's first pitch and meekly grounded out to his namesake, shortstop Orlando Cabrera.  A good start for Crain, getting the leadoff man, but smiles turned to frowns when he hit pinch hitter Aubrey Huff with an 0-2 slider.  The home crowd's collective mood swung back up when Crain blew a 95 m.p.h. fastball by Ryan Raburn for the second out.  Brandon Inge, the 7-hole hitter whose praises I sang in Part II, stepped to the plate.

Crain got ahead of Inge 0-1, and followed it up with a slider that was clearly a strike but ruled a ball by home plate ump Randy Marsh.  Did this cause Crain to lose focus?  It sometimes happens to pitchers.  Inge drove the next pitch, a 96 m.p.h. belt high cookie, into the left field corner.  With two outs, pinch runner Don Kelly was off from first base with the crack of the bat.  Third base coach Gene Lamont, about to make possibly the biggest decision of the year, saw the bounding ball die against a billowy advertising banner tied to the wall, momentarily hindering the retrieval by left fielder Delmon Young who was anticipating a carom.  Lamont waved home Kelly, barely beating a strong relay by Orlando Cabrera.  Lamont's decision is what's known as a "good send."  Good for the Tigers; bad for the Twins, who were now down 5-4.  Crain got 8-hole hitter Gerald Laird to bounce out to end the inning.  The Twins found themselves staring in the face of elimination.  But one of the most memorable (albeit non-walkoff) half-innings in Twins history was about to begin.

***

To appreciate fully the drama which unfolded in the bottom of the 10th inning, we must go back to a lineup decision by Tigers manager Jim Leyland before the game.  For six of the eight non-pitching fielding positions, Leyland almost always penciled in the same players every game: Laird catching, Miguel Cabrera at first, Placido Polanco at second, Inge at third, Granderson in center and Magglio Ordonez in right.  At shortstop, Leyland usually favored Adam Everett over Ramon Santiago by a 2 to 1 margin, although he started the latter in Game 163 due to their respective stats against Twins starting pitcher Scott Baker.  The toughest decision for Leyland was whom to start in left field, Ryan Raburn or Marcus Thames, both right-handed batters.  The dimensions of the Metrodome were such that there was more ground to cover in left field than in right.  Raburn was four years younger and 35 pounds lighter than Thames.  The boss went with the younger man who, putting ages and physiques aside, was simply a better fielder.

As related in Part II, Tigers closer Fernando Rodney had snuffed a Twins rally in the ninth, getting the final two outs but almost surrendering a season-ending base hit by Orlando Cabrera.  In the process, Rodney had only needed to expend seven pitches, of which four were light tosses to his catcher while issuing Joe Mauer an intentional walk.  The first Twins batter to face Rodney in the 10th was 5-hole hitter Michael Cuddyer, who so far had not managed to hit the ball out of the infield.  The Tigers, clinging to a one-run lead and needing just three outs for the victory, were in a no-doubles defense, with the corner infielders and outfielders playing a little closer to the lines than normal.  The outfielders also played a few paces deeper.  If the Twins were to get a base hit, the Tigers wanted the batter to pull up at first base, i.e., not in scoring position at second.

Cuddy weakly flared a fly ball which was destined to land in between shortstop Everett and left fielder Raburn. Raburn had to run a relatively long way toward the infield, but as he approached the ball he should have realized that there was almost no way he was going to get to the sinking ball in time.  The safe and smart play -- the only play -- would be to concede the base hit, play the ball on the bounce and throw it into second base to hold Cuddyer at first (and to keep a double play in order).  Instead, much to the amazement and delight of the 54,000 screaming fans, Raburn dove for the ball and did not come very close to catching it.  Even worse, he could not block the ball from hopping away toward the outfield wall.  Centerfielder Granderson, probably as surprised as anyone about Raburn's ill-fated decision, had been sauntering over to back up his teammate, never expecting he'd be called into action.  Granderson now had to change course and run like mad to retrieve the ball which made its way to the wall while Cuddyer dashed around second.  Cuddyyer was "held" to, and credited with, a triple -- proving once again that there is much to a baseball game that can't be discerned by reviewing the box score.

It isn't often I feel sorry for an opponent, but as gleeful as I was to have Cuddy, the tying run, on third with nobody out, my heart went out to Raburn.  To their credit, the Tigers' brain trust in the dugout did not panic or give any hint of disorganization following this sudden turn of events.  Their first order of business was to play the infield in for the next batter, Delmon Young.  Delmon was the Twins' most unpredictable hitter, averaging roughly one strike out for every four at bats and yet sporting a solid .285 batting average.  Maybe being caught up in the moment caused him to swing impatiently at the first pitch, tapping out weakly to the shortstop.  Cuddyer remained at third, undoubtedly thankful the Twins did not have the contact play on for Delmon's at bat.  If so, Cuddyer would have been cut down by three strides at the plate.

Designated hitter Brendan Harris, who had entered the game as a pinch hitter in the sixth inning, was up next.  The chatter in the stands among the self-anointed gurus centered around two possibilities: Would manager Ron Gardenhire put on a squeeze play to get Cuddy in, and would Rodney, with five wild pitches on his 2009 resume, pick this time to unload number six?  The answers turned out to be no and no.  But, Rodney was definitely uncorking some wide fast balls which catcher Laird did well to corral, and Harris drew a five pitch walk.  Gardy inserted Alexi Casilla -- remember that name! -- to run for Harris, who returned to a hero's welcome in the Twins dugout.  Runners at the corners, one out, and 8-hole hitter Matt Tolbert stepped into what was left of the batters' box.

Of the ten men who were in the starting lineup for the Twins, Tolbert had the lowest profile.  He was about to become legendary.  For the last six years, Matt had been toiling away at various levels in the minor leagues.  Even now that he was playing on the Big Team, he had only been used sporadically until early September.  That's when Justin Morneau, one of the team's true superstars, was declared finished for the remainder of the season with a stress fracture in his back.  Ironically, as chronicled in Part I, that is also about the time the Twins got hot, thanks in part to the versatility of Cuddyer who moved from the hot corner to take Morneau's place as first baseman, and to Tolbert's ability to rise to the occasion as Cuddy's replacement at third.  Those were big shoes to fill for the twenty-seven year old.

Tiger skipper Leyland paid a visit to Rodney on the mound.  At this point Rodney had thrown nineteen pitches, most of them under duress.  Was Leyland going to bring in another reliever or stick with his closer?  Was he talking defensive strategy with his infielders who had congregated on the mound?  Should they play in (or perhaps just "corners in"), at double play depth, half-way or at regular depth?  What should Laird do if Casilla attempts to steal?  Hold the ball, throw down to second, or fake a throw to second and try to catch Cuddyer napping at third?  This pause in the action gave the grandstand cognoscenti another opportunity to speculate on what Gardy might do.  A squeeze play was still a possibility, but now one of the fastest guys on the team, pinch runner Casilla, was on first.  So, an attempt at stealing second was certainly a potential weapon.  Rodney was not very good at holding runners close to the bag, but his catcher, Laird, was a gunner who could throw a dart to second base if he had to.

How much could we expect out of Tolbert, a .228 hitter?  He had already come through with a base hit and scored the Twins' first run in the 3rd inning.  Leyland had his infield at double play depth, a strange decision given the fact that Tolbert, a lithe switch-hitting athlete batting from the left side, would be very hard to double up.  On an 0-2 changeup following a 97 m.p.h. fastball, Tolbert chopped a single directly up the middle -- what former Twins manager Tom Kelly used to call a "diamond cutter."  The ball first hit on the dirt a foot or two in front of the plate, but thanks to tremendous topspin barely eluded Rodney and second baseman Polanco, the latter making a desperate but futile lunge.  Cuddyer strode home from third to tie the game at 5.  Casilla, who had not shown any inclination to attempt a steal of second, was able to make it to third without drawing a throw.  As impossible as it seemed, the Metrodome crowd noise became even more deafening.  The division-winning run, Casilla, was just ninety feet away from paydirt, and there was only one out!  No sign of Leyland appearing from the Tigers dugout; he was sticking with his closer, Rodney.

There are at least a dozen synonyms for the word "Improbable."  There are at least a dozen more synonyms for the word "memorable."  I could use any combination of those twenty-six words -- or all of them -- to describe what we witnessed on the next play, and I still would not be doing it justice.

The very bottom of the Twins' order, Nick Punto, was coming to bat.  A casual Twins fan with a short memory might have bemoaned the fact that it was the number nine hitter's turn to bat.  Not me.  The last two times up Punto had forced the Tigers' pitchers to throw an aggregate nineteen crunch time pitches, an outstanding accomplishment in and of itself.  And, in those two plate appearances, both as the inning's leadoff batter, he reached base each time.  Leyland had his corner infielders in, ready to throw home if Casilla tried to score on a grounder.  Leyland hedged his bets with the shortstop and second basemen, playing them half-way but not quite as deep as double play depth.  As is typical in any similar situation where a sacrifice fly would end the game, Leyland signalled his outfielders to play very shallow.  Twins third base coach Scott Ulger could be seen with his mouth a few inches away from Casilla's ear, giving instructions to the twenty-five year old runner, most importantly a reminder to tag on an outfield fly ball.  The stage was set.  The tension was palpable.  I had a knot in my stomach and I was five stories above and a hundred-plus feet away from the field.

Rodney started Punto off with four straight fast balls, two of them at 98 m.p.h.  If anything, Rodney appeared to be getting stronger.  Punto was choking up slightly and shortening his swing, thus bettering his chances of making contact.  As soon as the count reached 0-2, Leyland brought all four infielders in.  Punto managed to foul off three of those four fastballs; the fourth was a brushback.  Rodney was not making Punto miss, a good sign for Twins fans.  Rodney then abandoned the fastball, trying to cross up Punto with an outside letter high changeup.  Punto laced it to left field where Raburn, the same guy whose blunder at the start of the inning had given the Twins life, caught the ball after having to move a few feet to his left.  Then Raburn did two things which 99% of the time should have led to Casilla scoring.  First, because Rayburn did not have time to set his feet and torso properly in motion before the catch, he took two extra mini-steps before unleashing the throw.  Second, his throw home was a bullet, but it was off-target to the third base side of the plate.  Only a fantastic maneuver by the husky Laird, first catching the ball and then diving across the plate to tag the sliding Casilla, saved the day for the Tigers and extended the game.  On a scorecard the double play looks like this: "DP 7-2."  You may want to add a couple of exclamation points after the "2."  

***

We found out later that Raburn had been a pitcher with 95 m.p.h. velocity at the University Of Florida.  Obviously he atoned for his "sin" at the start of the inning by his stupendous play at the end.  If I were still coaching baseball, I would show my team Raburn's involvement in the Cuddyer at bat and the Punto at bat.  It is often said in sports that athletes need to have a short memory.  Even if you make a terrible mistake, you can't let it affect your performance on future plays.  Raburn's adventurous 10th inning proves the point.

There was a second facet, a real head-scratcher, to the Raburn-Laird double play which we did not learn until viewing the game's highlights on television.  For reasons never to this day explained, Casilla did not leave third base until after Raburn had finished taking those two extra mini-steps.  What the rules clearly allow the baserunner to do, and what Casilla should have done, was take off from third as soon as Raburn (or his mitt) touched the ball.  That extra second Casilla gifted to the Tigers contributed to their execution of the tag out at home.  I would label Casilla's gaffe "contributory negligence."

***

As the battle proceeded to the 11th inning I knew that, regardless of the outcome, this was the greatest baseball game I had ever seen.  That remains my opinion today, almost eleven years and hundreds of games later.

Saturday, August 15, 2020

Game 163, Part II: Managerial Chess

Welcome back.  Our topic to which we return after a two week respite is Game 163 played in the Metrodome on October 6, 2009 between the Minnesota Twins and the Detroit Tigers.  I remember there was some discussion at the time among the media's talking heads about whether this game should be considered a "playoff" game or a "playin" game.  Hmm, an interesting if not purely rhetorical question.  The playoffs for each of the American and National Leagues in those days were comprised of four teams: the three (East, Central and West) division champions plus the next-best team.  In 2009, the New York Yankees were the American League East Division champions, while the California Angels claimed the AL West Division title.  The AL Central Division required a one game showdown, aka "Game 163," to determine the AL Central Division title.  Since the Boston Red Sox, who finished second to the Yankees in the AL East, had a better record than either the Twins or the Tigers (and also better than the Texas Rangers who finished second to the Angels in the AL West), the Red Sox were in, while the loser of Game 163 would fail to qualify for the playoffs.  The Game 163 winner, of course, would make the playoffs as the AL Central champ.  Thus, Game 163 was a Playoffs Or Bust duel.  By the way, Game 163 was also officially deemed part of the regular season, a fact of particular importance for statistical purposes.

Part I of this saga ended at the conclusion of the sixth inning.  As I noted, this turned out to be the exact midway juncture of the game.  But there is another aspect which makes the "intermission" well-placed, for it is the seventh inning where we as fans can sense the anxiety which the two managers felt heading into what they thought would be the last three innings.  At least one of them was pulling out all stops.

*** 

At the start of the seventh inning Detroit was clinging to a 3-2 lead.  The Twins had knocked out Tiger rookie starting pitcher Rick Porcello in the sixth.  By contrast, Twins starter Scott Baker had managed to survive six full innings, with a reasonable total of 84 pitches having been thrown.  Although the losing pitcher of record at this point, Baker's six innings with only three earned runs earned him what has become known as a "quality start."  That is a label created by modern media but scoffed at by old timers, like me.  I mention it here to preface one tidbit:  The Twins' record when receiving a quality start was a very impressive 37 games over .500.  A good omen?  

With the bottom third of the Tigers' batting order due up, Twins manager Ron Gardenhire decided to allow Baker to open the seventh.  This decision surprised many observers because Gardy, like many skippers, usually preferred to bring in his relief pitchers at the start of an inning, not mid-inning with men on base.  Having Baker start the seventh indicated that Gardy felt Baker could get three more outs.  But when Baker walked the first hitter he faced, Brandon Inge, on seven pitches, Gardy had a change of heart and brought in the giant, six foot eleven reliever Jon Rauch.  Rauch had only been a Twin since August 28, but was a key contributor during that brief span.  In 16 relief appearances he'd compiled a 5-1 record, with a measly 1.80 ERA and 14 Ks over 15 innings.  Rauch disposed of Gerald Laird on an infield popup, and got Ramon Santiago to fly out to center field where the super-athletic Denard Span ran laterally over 100 feet of turf to make the grab.  Rauch was barely warmed up; he'd only thrown four pitches to get two quick outs, and the man Baker had walked, Inge, had not advanced beyond first base.  Yet Gardy, as he was wont to do, decided to bring in a lefty, Jose Mijares, to face the Tigers' lead off hitter, the left-handed Curtis Granderson.  No doubt Gardy was aware of Granderson's dismal .180 batting average against lefties.

The selection of Mijares did not come without baggage.  In the final game of the Twins-Tigers series just five days before, Mijares was the instigator of an ugly dustup.  Following a sequence of several brush back pitches by both teams, Mijares actually threw behind the back of Tiger shortstop Adam Everett.  Throwing behind a hitter is an unforgivable no no among baseball's unwritten rules.  His selection of Everett for a target was puzzling because (i) Everett was not that good a hitter, and (ii) the two men were teammates on the Twins toward the end of the 2008 season.  Although there was no real bad blood between the Tigers and the Twins by the time Game 163 arrived, the thoughtlessness of Mijares was still fresh in the minds of the Tigers.

The first and fourth pitches from Mijares to Granderson were clearly within the strike zone, but home plate umpire Randy Marsh ruled them balls.  Mijares looked like his blood was boiling as he stared Marsh down.  But knowing he was under intense scrutiny -- is there any other kind?-- because of the Everett incident in Detroit, Mijares said nothing.  Minnesota fans, ever quick to come up with conspiracy theories, may have figured Marsh was a closet Tiger fan.  Catcher Joe Mauer, always Mr. Cool, went out to the mound to simmer Mijares down.  In what might be called poetic justice or retribution by the Tiger faithful, Granderson stroked a sharp single to right on the seventh pitch he saw from Mijares, thereby moving Inge to third.  The Tigers were on the verge of blowing the game open.  Gardy popped out of the dugout and immediately signaled for the fourth Twins pitcher of the inning, Matt Guerrier, to enter.  Ron Darling, the former New York Mets all-star pitcher who was the analyst on the TBS telecast, made a profound observation: "Ron Gardenhire is managing this seventh inning as if it were the ninth."  Guerrier did his job, getting the Tigers' number two hitter Placido Polanco to ground into a forceout to end the threat, thereby making Gardy look like a genius.  Another tidbit:  2009 would be the last season of Randy Marsh's highly regarded twenty-nine year career as a MLB umpire.

*** 

Tiger manager Jim Leyland's decision to stick with relief pitcher Zach Miner to open the bottom of the seventh astonished a lot of the armchair bench coaches.  Miner had bailed out starter Rick Porcello when the kid ran out of gas with two out in the sixth, but Miner had not looked sharp.  After yielding a single to Delmon Young that inning, he hit Brendan Harris with a pitch before getting the final out.  Still, Miner had only thrown a paltry total of six pitches to the three Twins he'd faced in the sixth, so Leyland figured he was good to go for the seventh. 

The Twins had second baseman Nick Punto, with his skimpy .228 batting average, hitting in the 9- hole.  Despite his stats, which included just one home run and thirty-eight RBIs, Punto was a gamer, a guy whom a smart pitcher could never overlook in a big situation.  With the home team trailing 3-2 and down to their last nine outs, this certainly was a big situation.  Punto led off the inning by proceeding to have what I judge to be the greatest at bat of the game, and arguably the greatest at bat of the season.  Punto's nine (!) pitch at bat included fouling off three two-strike pitches before lacing a single to left field.  The crowd sensed a rally; every Twins fan was standing and most were either screaming or at least waving their homer hankies.  At that moment I tried to spot Leyland in the third base dugout.  He was known to duck into the walkway to sneak a smoke every once in awhile.  Not this time.  There he was near the dugout steps, probably wondering if he should follow suit with Gardy's strategy of parading in relief pitchers to get through a single inning.  Yep, here he came, walking stiffly toward Miner.  All eyes were on Leyland's arm, waiting for him to signal for a new pitcher from the bullpen.  Surely he would not allow the right-handed Miner to pitch to the left-handed Span.  But that's exactly what he did, and guess what?  Miner struck Span out on just four pitches.  Would Gardy's decision not to have Span even try to bunt Punto to second cost the Twins this game?  Lots of second-guessers sure thought so.  Span had eleven of the Twins' fifty successful bunts that season.  The man knew how to bunt!

Next up for the Twins was Orlando Cabrera, their 2-hole hitter.  Cabrera was another late addition to the Twins' roster, having been acquired from the Oakland A's in late July.  In 58 games with the Twins he was hitting an impressive .292, plus he was on a 15 game hitting streak. With one out the odds were better than 50-50 that Punto would now attempt to steal second base.  The Twins often employed that scheme under Gardy's tenure when a batter (such as Span this inning) had failed to move a runner from first to second with nobody out.  With the season on the line, would the Twins send Punto?  Punto was a perfect 10 for 10 in stolen base tries, but to send him here would be an extraordinary risk with catcher Gerald Laird behind the plate.  Laird had thrown out 42% of would-be base stealers that season.  (33% is considered good.)  We will never know whether the stealing gamble would have been attempted because Cabrera crushed Miner's first pitch, an 84 m.p.h. hanging curve ball, into the first row of the left field bleachers.  I would have thought it nearly impossible for the noise inside the Dome to climb higher than it had been minutes ago when Punto walked, but sure enough, the decibel level spiked upward to an ear-splitting level.  As Cabrera took his home run trot in his unique fashion, kind of listing as if he had a dislocated left shoulder, the Star Wars Theme blared over the speakers.  The Twins, who had trailed ever since the third inning, were now on top 4-3.  As seen through my binoculars, Leyland looked like he now needed something stronger than nicotine.    

Mauer followed Cabrera with a single to right, and may have had his second double of the game if he hadn't lost his footing rounding first.  That spelled the end for poor Zach Miner.  Leyland used two more pitchers, Fu-te Ni and Brandon Lyon, to get the last two outs of the seventh inning without further damage.

At this juncture let's take a quick moment to reflect on the two managers' tactical seventh inning maneuvers.  Both employed several pitchers, but the plans were not the same.  My impression was that Gardy used four pitchers by design, whereas his counterpart, Leyland, used three pitchers by necessity.  Part of my thinking is that going into the top half of the seventh, the Twins still had their starting pitcher, Scott Baker, in the game.  There was little chance that Gardy was going to have Baker pitch much deeper.  When he did yank Baker after the leadoff walk to Inge, Gardy had his right-left-right (Rauch-Mijares-Guerrier) middle relief triumvirate all ready to go, and he still had not been forced to use his two best relievers, Joe Nathan and Jesse Crain.  By contrast, I believe Leyland had hoped Zach Miner could get his team three outs in the seventh.  When Miner struck out the second batter he faced (Span), things looked "thumbs up" for Detroit.  But the Tigers were ambushed by Cabrera's knocker -- only his fifth since July 31.  Leyland was probably hoping to save his two best relief pitchers, Brandon Lyon and Fernando Rodney, for the eighth and ninth innings, but he also could not risk having the Twins add to their one run lead.  That is why he brought in Lyon to get the final out, a tapper to the mound by Michael Cuddyer.  

***

Now with the slim one run lead and the Twins only six defensive outs away from the division title, Gardy had another decision to make.  Should he insert his fastest player, fan favorite Carlos "Go Go" Gomez, into center field and move Span from center to right, or should he keep the defensive alignment as is?  He went with the former, even though it entailed taking his starting cleanup hitter, right fielder Jason Kubel, out of the game.  This decision played a huge role in the outcome of the game.

The Twins' 4-3 lead going into the eighth lasted exactly two whole pitches.  Matt Guerrier, still in the game for the Twins, served up a juicy letter-high fastball to Magglio Ordonez, and as they say in hockey, Ordonez one-timed it ten rows deep into the left field bleachers.  During his eight seasons with the Chicago White Sox, Ordonez had continually been a thorn in the side of the Twins.  Now in his fifth season with the Tigers, there was no let up; Twins pitchers never solved the puzzle of how to pitch to this six-time All Star and former AL batting champion.  The Metrodome crowd was stunned, disbelieving the game was now tied 4-4.  When Guerrier walked two of the next three batters, Gardy was forced to do what he did not want to do, viz., bring in his super closer, Joe Nathan, before the ninth inning.  Nathan would have to get at least five outs, two more than he was usually called upon to do.

Nathan overpowered the two men he faced to end the eighth, stranding two Tigers on the bases.  But, the Twins meekly went three up and three down at the hands of Lyon in the bottom of the eighth, failing to hit the ball out of the infield.  

***

Going into the ninth with the score knotted at 4 apiece, the Twins had to like their chances, even though momentum may have shifted with the Ordonez dinger.  Not only did they have the advantage of batting last as the home team, but Nathan was practically in a league by himself as a closer.  Entering the game he had 87 strikeouts in 67 innings, and his opponents' batting average was an abysmal .167.  The Tigers' 9-hole hitter Ramon Santiago led off by nubbing a dribbler down the first base line.  After fielding the ball, first baseman Cuddyer could do no more than dive at Santiago, hoping for a tag near the bag.  He missed.  Leyland wasted no time getting Everett into the game as a pinch runner.   For any team in a similar situation, a bunt was in order, but especially for the Tigers who were second in the American league with 53 sacrifice bunts.  Nevertheless, this was a predicament for Leyland because the following batter, Granderson, enjoyed tremendous prior success against Nathan, going 7 for 16 in his career.  His last three at bats against Nathan resulted in a home run, a double and a triple.  Would it be smart to have Granderson give himself up via a sacrifice bunt?  Fortunately for the Twins, Granderson immediately fell behind 0-2, thus removing the bunt possibility.  Unfortunately for the Twins, Granderson fisted an inside fastball into short right field for a single, moving Everett to third with nobody out.  Nathan was now in a bona fide jam.  He emitted one of his patented, puffed, oral exhales, not unlike that of a horse.  This was a circumstance he'd faced many times before -- the world of a closer.  What he really needed was a strikeout.

The third man to bat in the inning was Placido Polanco, the hardest Tiger on their roster to strike out.  In 676 plate appearances in 2009, Polanco had only struck out 46 times, although one of those times was in the first inning of this game.  Two dramatic things then happened.  For the second time in this game, Polanco got caught looking at a called third strike for the first out.  Then the Twins' nemesis, Magglio Ordonez, scalded a screaming line drive caught by shortstop Cabrera, who immediately threw to first to double off the shocked Granderson.  It may not have been pretty, but reliable Joe Nathan got the job done.

***

One little ol' run in the bottom of the ninth would send the Twins into the ALCS against the Yankees.  Punto, putting together another excellent at bat -- his second in a row -- drew a ten pitch walk from Brandon Lyon, who was still in the game.  Once again the crowd was stoked, reaching what seemed to be a state of delirium as Denard Span stepped to the plate.  I would venture to guess that every fan watching, whether on television or inside the Dome, absolutely knew Span would be bunting.  Of course that's what we'd all assumed, incorrectly, when Span batted in the seventh.  This time Span got the bunt sign and delivered a perfect 1-4 sacrifice.  Now with a runner in scoring position (Punto on second) and only one out, a single from any one of Minnesota's 2-3-4 hitters would end the game.  But as luck would have it, the defensive play of the game was about to occur.

Leyland brought in his closer, Fernando Rodney (a future Twin), to face the momentary hero from the seventh inning, Orlando Cabrera.  Rodney was a fireballer with one unusual statistic: His ERA in non-save situations was four and a-half runs higher (6.69) than in save situations (2.15).  This was a non-save situation due to the tie score.  Would Game 163 play out true to form?

Cabrera drilled Rodney's first offering in between third baseman Inge and shortstop Everett.  In a do-or-die effort Inge drove to his left and miraculously managed to glove the ball on the second bounce, then threw a dart to first to nip Cabrera for the second out.  This play would have made a perfectly healthy Brooks Robinson, probably the slickest-fielding third baseman ever to man the hot corner, extremely proud.  The fact that Inge was playing on two bum knees made the play one of the most heroic I have ever seen.  Chip Caray, the TBS play-by-play man, blew the call by exclaiming, "Inge saved a run."  No, Chipper, he saved the game.  Punto certainly would have scored the walk-off run if the ball had eluded Inge's desperate dive.

Rodney issued an intentional pass to Mauer to put runners on first and second, but the inning came to an end when Carlos Gomez, the defensive replacement inserted by Gardy after Cabrera's seventh inning homer, tapped into a force-out.  The ninth inning was in the books.  We were still tied at 4.

These two evenly matched teams had played 162 games only to finish with identical 86-76 records.  Is it any wonder they'd need to go extra innings to settle Game 163?   

Friday, July 31, 2020

Game 163, Part I: The Setup & The Start

After the conclusion of all games on September 7 during the 2009 baseball season, the Detroit Tigers led the American League Central Division by seven games.  It would take a near-historic choke to relinquish such a comfortable division lead.  But as the remainder of the season rolled on, the Tigers' lead shrunk.  The second place Minnesota Twins traveled to Detroit's Comerica Park for a four game series starting September 28, the Monday of the final week of the regular season.  The Tigers came back to life, winning two of the first three games.  Now, with just four games to play, all at home, the Motor City squad maintained a three game lead.  But they dropped the series finale 8-3 to the never-say-die Twins, then proceeded to lose two of three to the visiting Chicago White Sox.  Meanwhile, the Twins returned home from Detroit to face the Kansas City Royals in the beautiful Metrodome.  The Twins took all three of those games, producing 28 runs combined.  At the end of the 162 game regular season, the Twins and Tigers had finished with identical 86-76 records.  A one game playoff would be required to decide the AL Central championship.

Among the four major professional team sports, having home field advantage arguably is most important in baseball.  There are a host of reasons, but getting "last at-bats" is the biggest.  Prior to the 2009 season, MLB used a coin flip to decide home field advantage in a one-game playoff scenario.  Given the stakes at hand, that method seemed rather flippant -- no pun intended.  The protocol was changed in 2009  to something more justifiable.  The team which won the head-to-head season series between the two tied opponents would now be rewarded.  By virtue of the Twins' 11-7 season record over the Tigers, the Metrodome became the venue, much to the delight of the Twin Cities faithful, many of whom had probably given up hope back on September 7, if not earlier.

The capacity of the Metrodome for baseball was just a shade under 56,000.  Despite the fact that the playoff game was to be played on a Tuesday afternoon, my guess is that the franchise could have sold over 75,000 tickets that day.  Priority went to the 2009 season ticket holders, and then to the new 2010 season ticket holders.  After you figure all the big shots, celebrities, media members, league officials, glad-handing politicians and others with connections, that did not leave many ducats available for the hoi polloi, of which I was (and remain) a card carrying member.  Although full of skepticism, I drove downtown early Monday morning, October 5, to take my chances in the ticket line.  I was almost shocked when the ticket seller offered two seats high above home plate, three rows from the very top of the upper deck.  Momma Cuandito and I, who had stuck with the Twins all season long, were going to be in the Dome for the big game.  It turned out to be the best and most memorable baseball game of the hundreds I've attended.

***

The Twins were very confident going into the winner-take-all duel.  Heading into September, the Twins were only one game above .500.  But their record over the last twenty games of the season was 16-4.  If the Tigers had not managed to salvage the final game of their just completed series against the White Sox, the Twins would have become Central Division champs outright, thus obviating the need to settle the race with the one game playoff.  The Twins were the hot team; the Tigers had staggered through a September swoon.  Yet the Tigers were not unnerved by the Twins sprinting to a 16-4 finish.  After all, three of those four losses were to none other than Detroit.

The immediate reward for the victor of Game 163 would be a date in New York the very next day for the opening game of the American League Division Series ("ALDS") with the AL East Division champion Yankees.  Thus, before even the first pitch of Game 163 was thrown, Twins manager Ron Gardenhire and Tigers skipper Jim Leyland had to strategize to take into account that their respective pitching staffs might be called upon again less than twenty-four hours after the present game was completed.  But both men knew that without winning Game 163, there would be no trip to New York; the loser's season would be over.  They must win the game at hand.

Gardenhire chose Scott Baker to be his starting pitcher against the Tigers.  Baker was a five year veteran, age 28, with a 2009 season record of 15-9 and an ERA of 4.36.  As his statistics indicate, Baker was an above-average pitcher but not what you'd call an ace.  (The Twins really had no ace.)  Since June 1 of that season, though, he had managed an impressive 13 wins, one of which had been against the Tigers just five days before Game 163.  Leyand chose young Rick Porcello to start for Detroit.  Porcello's season record was practically the same as Baker's, 14-9 with an ERA of 4.04.  Those 14 wins were the most of any rookie in the league.  The kid was only 20, but he looked to be about 15.  (Porcello was the second youngest pitcher ever to start a tie-breaker; the youngest was Ralph Branca of the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1946.)  How would he hold up to playoff pressure?

It is typical among American sports publications to include in a playoff preview a position-by-position comparison of each team's starters.  Excluding pitching, the Twins had a clear edge at just three of the nine spots, with Joe Mauer at catcher, Orlando Cabrera at shortstop and Denard Span in center field.  The Twins' Michael Cuddyer at first base and Jason Kubel in right field were very solid players who were enjoying terrific seasons, but it would be hard to give them the nod over their respective counterparts, future Hall Of Famer Miguel Cabrera and Magglio Ordonez, who occupied the 3 and 4 slots in the Tigers batting order.  Detroit second sacker Placido Polanco, sporting a .286 batting average, was clearly superior to the Twins' Nick Punto with his .228.  I would rate the other three positions (third base, DH and left field) tossups, highlighted by two left fielders enjoying stellar seasons, Delmon Young of the Twins and Ryan Raburn of the Tigers.  This Game 163 was going to be hotly contested, and like many baseball games, the team receiving the better pitching would most likely prevail.

***                            

                                    THE STARTING LINEUPS                                 

       Detroit Tigers                                                         Minnesota Twins

1. Curtis Granderson - CF                                       1. Denard Span - CF
2. Placido Polanco - 2B                                           2. Orlando Cabrera - SS
3. Magglio Ordones - RF                                          3. Joe Mauer - C
4. Miguel Cabrera - 1B                                            4. Jason Kubel - RF
5. Carlos Guillen - DH                                             5. Michael Cuddyer - 1B
6. Ryan Raburn - LF                                                6. Delmon Young - LF
7. Brandon Inge - 3B                                               7. Jose Morales - DH
8. Gerald Laird - C                                                  8. Matt Tolbert - 3B
9. Ramon Santiago - SS                                           9. Nick Punto - 2B
Rick Porcello - P                                                      Scott Baker - P

***

Two telltale signs that the moment might be too big for a young pitcher are loss of command of his pitches and an inability to find the strike zone.  Nerves and adrenalin often combine to cause a pitcher to be erratic, so instead of throwing strikes to force the batters to put the ball in play, the pitcher starts giving up walks.  To Baker and Porcello's credit, that did not happen in Game 163.  Despite the youth of the two starting pitchers, each managed to get through the first two innings without yielding a run or even issuing a walk.  Baker was immensely helped by a defensive gem courtesy of Twins shortstop Cabrera, who went to his backhand with one out in the second inning to snag a screaming liner off the bat of Brandon Inge, thereby preventing a runner on third from scoring.  Porcello, the rookie, had to face only seven Twins to get the first six outs.

The third inning was a different story.  Baker surrendered a one out walk to leadoff hitter Curtis Granderson, followed by a two out RBI single to Ordonez.  Miguel Cabrera, nicknamed "Miggy," then lofted a two run homer over the center field wall on an 0-2 pitch.  Perhaps Miggy, who had doubled in the second inning, was out to prove that he, not Mauer, should be the American League's MVP.  Up to that point the Metrodome noise had been ear-splitting and the crowd was a sea of waving white Homer Hankies.  Now, with Detroit suddenly up 3-0. the fans were momentarily somber.  Many of them were aware that the Tigers' season record was a gaudy 55-30 when scoring the first run of the game.  The Twins' flash to the finish in September seemed a distant memory.  Yet, it was only the third inning; the Twins would have their chances.

The Twins came back with a strange run in the bottom of the third.  Twins third baseman Matt Tolbert, who was playing only because regular third baseman Michael Cuddyer was filling in at first for the injured Justin Morneau, hit a smash down the third base line.  Detroit third baseman Brandon Inge, as gutty a player as there ever was in MLB, dove to his right to attempt to make the play.  This was a valiant effort because Inge was playing on two badly injured knees which would require surgery less than a month later.  Tolbert beat Inge's throw for an infield single.  Then, following Punto's strikeout, Tolbert advanced to second on Denard Span's single to left.  The next batter, Orlando Cabrera, hit a fly ball to right field, so deep that right fielder Ordonez had no chance to throw out Tolbert advancing to third after the catch.  [Note: This is a situation which I discussed in my July 17, 2014 post (Arbitrary And Capricious Traditions) about some of baseball's peculiarities.  In the boxscore, this play looks like a simple fly ball out, costing Cabrera a point or two on his batting average.  In reality, his ability to advance Tolbert to third was invaluable.]  The Twins, still down 3-0, now had runners at the corners with two out.  Next up, Joe Mauer.

Mauer entered the game hitting .364, an average so lofty he could have gone 0 for 17 in Game 163 and still won the batting title over second place Ichiro of the Seattle Mariners.  Porcello may have thought that it would be easier to pick off Span, a threat to run with 23 stolen bases, than it would be to get Mauer for the third out, especially since Mauer had driven a double to center field off Porcello in the first inning.  Porcello's pick off attempt to get Span, who actually had only a tiny lead, was off target to the right field side of the first base bag.  The burly Miggy could not corral the ball and it bounded away.  As soon as the alert Tolbert saw the ball rolling on the ground away from Miggy, he easily trotted home with the Twins' first run.  Luckily for the Tigers the errant ball caromed off Twins first base coach Jerry White; otherwise it would have gone near the Twins dugout allowing Span to advance to second (if not third).*  This excitement got the capacity home crowd back in the game.  Was Porcello coming unglued?  Tigers pitching coach Rick Knapp paid him a visit on the mound to calm him.  Whatever he said must have worked because the third inning ended uneventfully with a Mauer walk (probably one of those well known"intentional/unintentional walks") and a Kubel K.

***

The next two and a-half innings, at least on paper, were relatively uneventful.  However, that did not cause the crowd to simmer down.  The fans lived and died with each pitch, just as they had during the World Series championship years in the Metrodome, 1987 and 1991.

Scott Baker needed only an impressively efficient 28 pitches to breeze through the fourth, fifth and sixth inning.  During that stretch he had to face only one batter over the minimum of nine, allowing merely two base runners, one of whom was erased on a double play.  Porcello was even more stellar in the fourth and fifth innings, striking out three of the minimum six Twins he faced.  Porcello continued gliding into the bottom of the sixth, getting Cabrera to fly out and Mauer to whiff. But the third man to bat in the inning was Twins cleanup hitter Jason Kubel.

Going into the game Kubel was 8 for 11 against the rookie.  In baseball parlance, Kubel "owned" Porcello.  Kubes belted the second pitch he saw way over the right-center field wall for his 28th home run of the season, thus closing the Twins' deficit to 3-2.  When Porcello issued a seven pitch walk to the next hitter, Michael Cuddyer, manager Leyland came out and sent the youngster to the showers.

Reliever Zach Miner was summoned from the pen to close out the inning.  He did, but only after surrendering a single to Delmon Young and hitting pinch hitter Brendan Harris.

Little did we know at this point that the game was only half over.

______________

*  The errant pickoff attempt by Detroit pitcher Rick Porcello in the bottom of the third inning resulted in one of the strangest rulings by an official scorer I have ever witnessed.  The scorer correctly gave an error to Porcello for his poor throw because the Twins runner on third, Matt Tolbert, would not have scored had Porcello's pickoff throw been accurate.  However, the strange aspect of the ruling is that Porcello was credited with a pickoff, and runner Denard Span was charged with being picked off -- EVEN THOUGH HE WASN'T.  The ruling assumes that Span would have been picked off if only Porcello hadn't thrown the ball away.  Span barely had any lead off first.  There's almost no chance he would have been out, even with a good throw by Porcello and a quick grab 'n' tag by Miggy.  You might call the ruling a "phantom pickoff."  

Friday, July 17, 2020

The Lower 48 Is Not A Rectangle, And Other Geographic News Flashes

The Early Days:  I have loved geography ever since fifth grade at St. Joe's.  In the first semester, Mrs. Foley promised an "A" to each student who could memorize the 48 state capitals.  (Yep, not that I'm ancient or anything, but... Alaska, our 49th state, was not admitted until January 1959 when I was in sixth grade.)  She made the same promise second semester regarding capitals of all the nations of the world.  My results: "A" and "A."  This knowledge came in handy my junior year of high school when Father Robert Williams, our American history teacher, made us memorize all 50 states and their capitals, starting with a blank piece of paper.  Each correct answer on the quiz was worth one percentage point.  The result: Approximately 20 of the 25 students, including me, got a 99%.  We were docked a point for abbreviating "Saint" in the name of Minnesota's capital.  I reminded him of that tricky penalty when I saw him at my 20th year high school reunion.  As I expected, a wry smile crossed his face.

Later Let Downs
:  My geographic curiosity has made domestic and international travel a joy, but two places I wanted to visit for over thirty years before I finally got the opportunity proved to be disappointments.  The realities did not measure up to my imagination or expectations.

The first disappointment occurred circa 1992 on a family road trip from Minnesota to Phoenix.  (It was the same trip to which I referred while discussing the Eagles album in my May 31, 2020 post.)  We had a planning meeting or two with our travel partners, the Cipolles, to determine which of several possible routes we should take on this journey, which would cover over 3200 miles round trip.  We unanimously agreed to do some sight seeing along the way.  I was adamant about just one destination, the Four Corners.  It is the only place in the United States where four states come together.  Clockwise from the northwest they are Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona.  Ever since I was a boy I had pictured a grand scene, complete with sculptures, a garden with beautiful wild flowers, historical plaques documenting the significance of the site, souvenir and gift shops (maybe even an ice cream shop or a candy store) and, who knows, a saloon or two?  I predicted the four states would want to use the uniqueness of the site to do a little bragging, setting up tourist information storefronts or at least kiosks, touting their respective attractions and nearby points of interest.  Of course there would be a professional photographer who, for a mere $10 or so, would be happy to take a keepsake picture of you and your three friends each standing in "their own state," or perhaps a photo of just you with an extremity planted in each state as if you were playing a game of Twister.  People would be willing to go out of their way to see this one-of-a-kind national landmark, so the mood would be happy, festive and celebratory.  Most of all, I wanted to see how The Spot was marked.

Instead what we found was grim and uninspiring.  There were few signs directing the minimal traffic off the county highway to the dirt road leading to Four Corners.  The Navajo and Hopi Indians had set up makeshift huts with plywood tables, forming a semi-circle about forty yards in radius from the exact Four Corners spot.  On those tables were trinkets and inexpensive jewelry for sale.  Near most of the huts were faded flags, some Old Glory, others probably state or tribal flags, still others representing unknown entities.  The point of intersection of the four states was marked by a simple brass disk, with a diameter of eight to ten inches, imbedded in pavement.  In the middle of the disk were two engraved perpendicular lines, with the name of one of the states occupying each quadrant.  There were no sculptures or plaques, nor was there a garden, beautiful or otherwise.  The huts with the cheap tables were the closest thing to a shop.  Not a tourist information kiosk was to be found.  To my dismay, there were no postcards for sale.  If you wanted a photo you were on your own.  In truth, it was a bit of a personal letdown, though still worth a one-time visit.  In retrospect I should not have expected more from this remote desert station.  The words of my favorite poem, Ozymandias, later came to mind: "...boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away."

***

You are no doubt familiar with the saying, "Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.”  You would think, following the Four Corners experience, I would have learned to lower my expectations, but eleven years later I fell victim to unjustified hopes for the second time.

I grew up in the far reaches of northern Illinois, fifteen miles as the crow flies from the Wisconsin line.  Downstate Illinois -- which for most natives of that state means roughly its southern three-quarters -- was an intriguing mystery.  I tried to convince my parents to take my sister and me on a Downstate road trip so I could discover what the rest of our native state had to offer, but I had to settle for a one-time weekend jaunt to Springfield, the historic capital located in central Illinois.  Our family summer vacations invariably took us in the opposite direction to the North Woods of Wisconsin, where my dad enjoyed his single hobby, fishing.  Downstate would have to wait.

As a boy I read Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn twice each.  I loved the way Mark Twain described life in the river town of Hannibal, Missouri.  His descriptions led me to think of Hannibal as being similar to Libertyville, only with the extra benefit of being on the Mississippi.  How great must it be, therefore, to experience Cairo, the southernmost city in Illinois, blessed with not one (the Mississippi) but two (the Ohio) of our country's most important rivers?  Plus, there was something exotic about the name "Cairo."  Even its pronunciation, KAY-roe, was a little offbeat.  I had to see the place for myself.  It finally happened on a road trip with Momma Cuandito in 2003.

I've considered several adjectives to describe what we saw driving through Cairo.  No single descriptor I came up with paints an exact picture.  I had ridden on the Vomit Comet through the ghettos of Chicago's South Side on my way to South Bend many times.  I drove through some scary neighborhoods in Detroit shortly after the riots there in the late '60's.  Gary, Indiana at night made my heart go "pitter pat," and not in a good way, even though I was with a couple of fellow Domers who lived there.  In spite of those sorrowful recollections, I was shocked by what had become of Cairo.  On a much smaller scale, it was just as disheartening as those other places.  Unlike Chicago and Detroit, where at least the downtowns were immune from the ravages evident in other parts of the city, downtown Cairo was in shambles.  Boarded storefronts, broken glass, crumbling sidewalk and street pavement, piles of rubbish, and nary a soul to be seen.  More than one social observer has called Cairo a ghost town.

The history of the town, details of which are beyond the scope of this post, furnishes a combination of reasons for its demise.  Racial injustice dating to the antebellum era, the building of railroad and highway bridges which destroyed the once-booming ferry boat business, and the rerouting of railroads which had helped Cairo become more or less a mid-South transportation hub are three major contributing factors.

Momma Cuan and I continued our drive a mile or two south of downtown to the actual confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers.  During the Civil War it was the site of Fort Defiance, a citadel which enabled the Union army to control navigation of those waters.  This historic property is now deserted. The most remarkable items are the scores of fallen timber which drape the grounds.  There was no commemoration or shred of evidence of the existence of Fort Defiance and the strategic role it played in the Civil War.  There was not even a small sign indicating that this point is, in fact, where the two great rivers merge.  At least Four Corners had that engraved brass disk.

News Flashes:  We haven't had an exam on the Quentin Chronicle since June 10, 2014 when I presented my Citizenship Test.  Try your hand at this one question quiz.

Question: Which state is the closest to Africa?

A. Maine.
B. Massachusetts.
C. New York.
D. Delaware.
E. Florida.

A large portion of Americans tend to think of the "Lower 48" as a rectangle.  I attribute some of that misconception to our preoccupation with sports.  For example, teams along the Atlantic seaboard are often clumped together in one division.  In Major League Baseball's American League, the American cities in the Eastern Division are Boston, New York, Baltimore and Tampa.  None of the five cities in the AL Central Division are anywhere near the coast, with Cleveland being the closest.  In the National Football League, the four metropolitan areas with teams in the East Division of the American Conference are Boston, Buffalo, New York and Miami.  There are other examples at both the pro and college level, but my point is that the southern teams and northern teams along the coast are grouped together as if they were lined up vertically.  Yet, consider these tidbits: Atlanta is practically due south of Detroit, and Miami is lined up longitudinally with Pittsburgh.

The counterintuitive stuff isn't limited to the East.  Did you know that Carson City, the capital of Nevada, is west of Los Angeles?  So are three other state capitals in the Lower 48: Sacramento, Salem and Olympia.  The lesson to be gleaned here is that LA is not situated at the bottom left hand corner of the country's rectangle because -- wait for it -- there is no rectangle.

And now, back to the quiz.  The correct answer is "A."  Maine juts out far enough into the Atlantic to make the seemingly impossible true.  If you win any dough via wagering, I'll expect a small cut.

Eating Crow:  I am going to close this post with one more geographic oddity, this one regarding my native state, Illinois.  I read in a recent publication that six states border Illinois.  I could not believe an editor did not catch the egregious error.  As someone who lived in Illinois for over thirteen years and was fairly well-versed in its geography, I knew for a fact that the correct number of its bordering neighbors was five: Wisconsin, Indiana, Kentucky, Missouri and Iowa.  Any Illinoisan worth his salt can tell you that.  But, here is the catch!  Technically, Illinois also shares a border with Michigan.  It is located northeast of Chicago in the middle of Lake Michigan.   

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Quarterly Cinema Scan - Volume XL

Of all the many rock bands which originated in the city of Chicago, the band Chicago, with over 100 million records sold, has been the most successful.  The group was formed in 1967 under the name Chicago Transit Authority, which was also the title of their first album released in April 1969, two months before I graduated from Notre Dame.  The original roster was comprised of seven musicians, all but one of whom grew up in Chicagoland.  Dillon Hall had a bunch of guys like me who had a Chicago connection, and many of us bought that debut album, playing it repeatedly.  The album also garnered heavy air play on our campus radio station, WSND.

We assumed that the seven Chicago members were probably at least in their mid-to-late twenties, like most of the rockers from the British Invasion.  For example, the youngest Beatle, George Harrison, was 26 years old in the spring of '69; the youngest Rolling Stone, Keith Richards, was 25.  Therefore, we were astonished to learn that the majority of Chicago's members were our contemporaries, having been born in the years 1946-1948.  (For perspective, I was born in '47.)  When the band had been formed, three or four of the guys were studying music at De Paul University.

Chicago's lineup consisted of keyboard player Robert Lamm, bass player Peter Cetera, lead guitarist Terry Kath, a drummer and three horn players.  They billed themselves as "a rock band with horns."  Their sound was a rare blend of rock, pop and jazz.  Another facet which made them unique was this: There was no single lead singer or front man.  Lamm, Cetera and Kath expertly handled that role.  Although the seven players were considered to have equal "say" in Chicago's operation, Kath was an alpha.  He was a fun loving guy but was not shy about expressing his thoughts on their music.

By the time of Kath's death in January 1978, Chicago was unquestionably one of the biggest bands in the world, with nineteen Top 40 singles to their credit.  But Kath was a complex character who did not enjoy being a celebrity.  The band's success meant when they performed on tour, the fans wanted to hear their hits.  Kath, conversely, wanted to play whatever he felt like playing, preferring to jam and ad lib instead of sticking to studio versions.  His dissatisfaction brought him to the point where he fully intended to move to Los Angeles and form another band, emphasizing "without horns."  He even had a name for it, Cook County.  He never fulfilled that dream.

Kath died accidentally in 1978 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.  He had been playing with handguns, as was his habit, and did not realize there was a bullet in the chamber.  He left behind a twenty month old daughter, Michelle, who in 2016 produced a film titled The Terry Kath Experience.  It is a thorough, unvarnished tribute to her father's legacy.  It also serves as a fascinating history of the band's formation and rise to stardom.  The film includes incisive, sometimes heart-wrenching interviews with all six of Kath's bandmates plus their producer from the early days, Jim Guercio.  Michelle also interviews some of rock's guitar royalty such as Joe Walsh of the Eagles, Mike Campbell of the Heartbreakers and Jeff Lynne of ELO.  To a man, they all agree that Kath should be considered one of the greatest guitar players in music history.

***

I have not been to a movie theater since February.  I miss seeing new films, but I've filled the gap by watching more movies at the Quentin Estates.  The seventeen listed below are the most I have covered in any Quarterly Cinema Scan.          

1. As Good As It Gets (1997 comedy; Misanthropic author Jack Nicholson steps in to help when the young son of his favorite waitress, Helen Hunt, has medical problems, and when his gay neighbor, painter Greg Kinnear, is severely beaten during a home invasion.)  B+

2. Bad Day At Black Rock (1955 drama; one-armed Spencer Tracy arrives by train in a remote California desert town whose members, led by Robert Ryan, are intent on keeping a secret.)  C+

3. Cadillac Records (2008 musical biopic; Adrian Brody is Len Chess, the white owner of an independent Chicago record label which launched careers of many black artists, including Muddy Waters (Jeffrey Wright), Chuck Berry (Mos Def) and Etta James (Beyonce).)  B

4. Days Of Heaven (1978 drama; lovers Richard Gere and Brooke Adams pose as siblings in a plot to scam Sam Shepard, a wealthy Texas Panhandle wheat farmer.) B-

5. The Good Liar (2019 drama; ruthless con artist Ian McKellan meets recently widowed Helen Mirren, then sets her up in a scheme to steal her entire fortune.)  B+

6. Good Will Hunting  (1997 drama; When M.I.T. math professor Stellan Skarsgard discovers school janitor Matt Damon is a savant, he lines up therapist Robin Williams, a former classmate, to save Damon from wasting his life.)  A-

7. Grand Prix (1966 drama; James Garner and Yves Montand are two of four racers on the Grand Prix circuit, all with women problems as they defy death at 200 mph.)  C

8. The Hustler (1961 drama; Paul Newman is a pool shark who becomes attracted to alcoholic Piper Laurie, indebted to gambler George C. Scott, and challenged by the country’s best pool professional, Jackie Gleason.)  B-

9. Looking For Mr. Goodbar  (1977 drama; Diane Keaton leads a double life, teaching deaf children by day, then hooking up with Richard Gere and other creepy men she meets in seedy bars at night.) C-

10. The Natural (1984 baseball fantasy; Sixteen years after he leaves girlfriend Glen Close behind to pursue a baseball career, Robert Redford attempts a comeback with a hapless major league team managed by cranky Wilford Brimley, while being distracted by bombshell Kim Bassinger.)  B

11. An Officer And A Gentleman (1982 drama; Richard Gere is a complex candidate to become a Navy pilot, but must first survive a grueling thirteen week training course under the tutelage of Marine drill sergeant Louis Gossett, Jr. and a tempestuous romance with Puget Sound "Deb" Debra Winger.)   A-

12. Surprised By Love (2015 rom-com; Hilarie Burton, a Wharton MBA with a corner office in her father's corporation, invites old boyfriend Paul Campbell to her parents' 40th anniversary party at the suggestion of real boyfriend Aaron Craven.)  B+

13. The Terry Kath Experience (2016 music documentary made by the daughter of Terry, co-founder and lead guitarist of the band Chicago, who accidentally died at age 31 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.)  B+

14. The Three Faces Of Eve (1957 drama; psychiatrist Lee J. Cobb attempts to help Joanne Woodward, a meek Georgia housewife and mother with split personality syndrome.)  B

15. Unforgiven (1992 western; Clint Eastwood and Morgan Freeman, two gunslingers turned Kansas farmers, join young Jaimz Woolvett in a quest to kill two cowboys who brutally disfigured Montana hooker Anna Thomson.)  B+

16.  The Valachi Papers (1972 crime drama; In return for being allowed the safety of solitary confinement, former Cosa Nostra driver and hit man Charles Bronson recounts to FBI agent Gerald S. O’Loughlin his days as a mobster, including detailed descriptions of the crimes committed under the direction of the dons.)  C

17.  The Way Back (2020 sports drama; alcoholic Ben Affleck, separated from his wife Janina Gavankar for a year, accepts a position as temporary head basketball coach for the high school which he led to the state championship over 20 years ago.)  C

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

The Sheyenne River Byway

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
- Margaret Wolfe Hungerford, author of "Molly Bawn" (1878)

A high school classmate recently sent me a meme comprised of a wide angle picture of a golden wheat field, otherwise empty save for a few hay bales scattered throughout.  The horizon line stretches far in the distance.  Above the image are the words, "North Dakota. Come For The..."  And, below: "Nevermind.  There's nothing here."

Residents and natives of many states will find some reason to include their homeland in any discussion regarding which of the Fifty have the most natural beauty.  For some states such as Alaska, Colorado and North Carolina, justification for inclusion is probably easy to come by.  For others, a little imagination is required.  Montanans love their Big Sky Country. Texans write poems about their Wide Open Spaces.  The wind comes sweepin' down the plain in Oklahoma.  (Thank you for the image, Messrs. Rodgers and Hammerstein.)  A college friend of mine from southern Indiana once opined, "If you take away Lake County, Indiana might be the Midwest's most scenic state."  Well, yeah; and if you take away those four runs Clayton Kershaw gave up in the sixth inning, he would have had a shutout.

Among the many attributes of North Dakotans, two I particularly admire are these: They are extremely proud of their state, and they rarely feel a need to convince any outsider of the correctness of their opinion.  If outsiders can’t appreciate the beauty of the land, well, that’s on them.  In fact North Dakotans, ever confident, are even willing to poke some fun at themselves, hence the wheat field meme.  "Flat is where it's at," proclaims a popular Nodak T-shirt.  While driving through the state you might see "It's not a tree, it's a telephone pole" on a bumper sticker.

All kidding aside, one doesn't have to look very hard to appreciate the splendor of North Dakota.  And, as an expat of the Peace Garden State, I find it easy to defend any accusations of exaggeration or hallucination from people who think of the place as strictly fly over territory or the frozen tundra.  I wasn't always in the camp of the state's ardent admirers.  Between 1966 and 1976 I probably made the 1000 mile round trip between the Twin Cities and Minot close to three dozen times.  On those journeys I was always in a hurry to reach my destination.  (The first time I ever drove 100 m.p.h. was on I-94, about twenty-five miles west of Fargo. Dumb!)  But then I finally got smart; I ditched the interstate.

****

Have you ever been at a party when the conversation has run dry?  Here is the perfect ice-breaker.  You gather a small group around you and posit this querry:  Does anybody know the difference between a byway and a backway?  If that doesn’t reignite the chatter, nothing will.  (Or, it could also be a good way to clear your house of guests if you're the exhausted host.)

Let's start with the basics.  There is a regulated system of Scenic Byways across the United States, thus dissuading states’ Departments Of Tourism from  posting homemade roadside signs making such proclamation anywhere they choose.  In order to qualify officially as a Scenic Byway, the U.S. Department Of Transportation requires that one or more of the following attributes of the road must be present: scenic, natural, historic, cultural, archeological and recreational.  The federal government calls these "intrinsic qualities."  Due to probable overlapping of these qualities, most Scenic Byways boast several, not just one, of the mandatory characteristics.

North Dakota hosts seven Scenic Byways, of which two have earned special recognition from the feds, and three Scenic Backways.  You have waited patiently for an explanation of the definitional difference, so here it is in all its simplicity.  In addition to meeting one of the six requisites listed above, a Byway must be a road with an all-weather surface suitable for automobile and RV travel.  This can mean either a paved road or a gravel road which is graded and regularly maintained.  There are no such guaranties with the Backways.  They are mostly dirt or gravel roads, with several stretches unsuitable for RVs and other large vehicles.  There may also be safety concerns associated with Backways, such as washouts or unstable shoulders.  The average length of North Dakota's seven Byways is 51 miles; the three Backways' average is 28.

For the two Byways which have earned national recognition, state highway signs are replaced by white rectangular signs trumpeting "AMERICA'S BYWAYS" in red capital letters, above which is an illustration of a fluttering triangular flag, blue with a white star in the middle.  The other five Byways and the three Backways are marked by green rectangular signs with white block lettering below an image of a bison.  (Must have been designed by an North Dakota State University alum.)

Forty-six states -- all but Hawaii, Texas, Nebraska and Rhode Island -- are home to at least one nationally recognized Scenic Byway.  The two North Dakota claims are the Sheyenne River Valley National Scenic Byway (the "Sheyenne River Byway"), the first in the state to earn national recognition, and the Standing Rock National Native American Scenic Byway (the "Standing Rock Byway").  I have driven each of them twice.  (I've also driven the Old Red/Old Ten Scenic Byway once.  Its endpoints are Mandan and Dickinson in the state's southwest quadrant.)  The Sheyenne River Byway is located in southeastern North Dakota, running between Lisbon and Baldhill Dam on Lake Ashtabula.  The Standing Rock Byway lies in southwestern North Dakota, starting 41 miles south of Mandan at Cannon Ball and extending beyond the South Dakota line.  What follows are a few lasting impressions from my travels up the Sheyenne River Byway.

****

The sixty-three mile long Sheyenne River Byway follows its namesake river, winding through some of the most beautiful countryside North Dakota has to offer.  My first exploration of the road took me over three hours.  I could have used four, but made the mistake of starting too late in the day, then rushing a bit so I could eat dinner at my favorite ND restaurant, City Lights in Valley City, before it closed.  I did not repeat that error on my second time through a couple of years later.  There are so many things to view, including the forty-one award winning interpretive panels which populate the route, and the gorgeous vistas which await the traveler, seemingly around every bend.  An important feature for camera bugs is that, unlike most of the Standing Rock Byway, the Sheyenne River Byway is  girded by relatively wide shoulders.  That, coupled with the fact that (like most North Dakota roads) there is very little traffic, enables the traveler to pull over, get out of the vehicle and snap pictures to his heart's content.  Sometimes I even hopped a fence and strode twenty or thirty yards into a field just to get "the perfect shot."

The southern third of the Sheyenne River Byway is forested, a fact which might come as a surprise to out-of-state visitors.  The route takes you through the Sheyenne River State Forest, where bur oak, quaking aspen, basswood and ironwood trees grow in abundance.  The state forest is also the home of North Dakota's only waterfall, Mineral Springs. Countless groves of trees grow on both sides of the Sheyenne, so even on those stretches of the Byway where the river can't be seen, you know where it is; just look for those leafy clusters.

There are 347 species of birds living in or traveling through North Dakota.  The Sheyenne Valley is popular with birders because of the variety of terrain.  The woodlands following the river contrast with the wavy grasslands and the fields of grain crops, thereby attracting an assortment of the winged creatures.  The Audubon Society lists roughly twenty different bird types of special local interest in the valley, most of which I've never heard of.  How about the northern harrier, the marbled godwit, the ovenbird or the yellow-throated vireo?  As for four-legged creatures, I saw many horses and cows, plus an occasional deer and a lonely coyote.  Although North Dakota farms and ranches are not open range, the curious animals are willing to lope over to the wire fences separating them from the road in order to check out human visitors.

If shooting pictures isn't your thing, don't let that stop you from trying the Byway, especially if you're interested in American history.  The area was home to several military outposts, including Fort Ransom.  In the 1860's and 1870's, Harris Ford Crossing was the point along the Sheyenne where westward bound army wagons carrying supplies and mail crossed to reach Fort Ransom from Fort Abercrombie.  The soldiers' main responsibility was to protect the settlers who were either making their home in the valley or else heading toward the western reaches of the Louisiana Purchase.  The village of Fort Ranson, named for the nearby fort, was founded in 1878 as a lumber and flour mill center.  The hamlet still stands today, notwithstanding the misfortune of having the Northern Pacific Railroad laying its tracks far to the north.  On the outskirts of the village lies the mysterious Pyramid Hill, on top of which stands a Viking statue.  Some archeologists believe that the hill, which actually does resemble a pyramid, is part of a network of Native American burial grounds, possibly dating back to the ninth century.

The majority of the settlers in the region were Lutherans from Scandinavia.  Two historic houses of worship, the Preston Church and the Waldheim Church, are situated several miles apart on the Byway north of Fort Ransom.    Those buildings, completed under the direction of Lutheran missionaries in 1898 and 1900, respectively, were once surrounded by tiny houses and cabins.  Now, other than a small cemetery across the road from Waldheim Church, the buildings stand alone.

Other historic sights along the Byway include: Walker Dam, originally built in 1906, sabotaged shortly thereafter in a water rights dispute, and rebuilt in the 1930s by the Works Progress Administration (better known as the "WPA") under FDR's New Deal; Wadeson Park, where a one room cabin built of oak logs and local uncut stone was used as a community center; and, King School, a one room frontier school house just south of Valley City.  All of these buildings have been lovingly preserved for more than a century.

The "city" of Kathryn, population 52, marks the midpoint of the Sheyenne River Byway.  Pioneers first established homes here in 1870, and thirty years later were lucky enough to have the Northern Pacific create a stop in its midst.  In fact, when the town incorporated, the name it chose was in honor of a railroad executive's daughter.  Other stations along the prairie route were likewise named for execs' wives and daughters, thus becoming known as "The Ladies' Line."  As important as the railroad was to the town's survival, the establishment of a co-op grain elevator played a key role in Kathryn's survival.  Outside of Valley City, the concrete elevator bearing the name "Kathryn Farmers Mutual Elevator Company" is the tallest structure on the Byway.  In the North Dakota lexicon, grain elevators dotting the plains are sometimes called "prairie skyscrapers."

Valley City, with a population over 6300, stands as an anomaly on the Byway.  It bills itself as "The Most Beautiful Town in North Dakota."  (Interestingly, Valley City State University unabashedly claims to have the most beautiful campus in the state.) The local Visitors' Bureau and the Chamber of Commerce also refer to Valley City as the "City Of Bridges," a reference to its thirteen bridges having varying degrees of historical interest.  Travelers sometimes use Valley City as a home base for exploring both the Sheyenne River Byway and the North Country Trail, both of which cut through the town.  The North Country Trail is America's longest hiking trail, spanning over 4600 miles from Vermont to central North Dakota.  The Rosebud Visitor Center in downtown Valley City is a very helpful resource.

The northernmost point of the Sheyenne River Byway lies eleven miles beyond Valley City at Baldhill Dam.  Built by the U.S. Army Corps Of Engineers from 1941 to 1951, the dam was desperately needed to control the flow of the Sheyenne River as it wended its way through precious farmland on its way to the Red River.  The dam created Lake Ashtabula, a twenty-seven mile long wide spot in the river, not unlike the relationship between Lake Pepin and the Mississippi.  The Corps strategizes with the National Weather Service and the U.S. Geological Survey, studying flood forecasts which impact the Corps' adjustments of the lake level.  With 74 miles of shoreline, there is a plethora of resorts, beaches, marinas, lakeshore campgrounds and restaurants.  Northern pike, walleyes and yellow perch are the main attraction.

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The North Dakota Department Of Tourism spends a lot of money airing television advertisements in the Twin Cities market.  Their spokesperson is movie actor Josh Duhamel, a native of my town, Minot.  "North Dakota Legendary" is the service mark.  For the most part the advertisements tout the splendor of Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and the big city lights of Fargo.  I have been to those places, and there is no disputing they both deserve the attention.  If and when Josh rings me up for my advice on how the state can improve its lure, my suggestion will be to start a campaign promoting North Dakota's Byways and Backways.  I expect that call at any moment.