Don’t let this fool you.
From worst to first. Rags to riches. Against all odds (75:1 last March, in fact).
It doesn’t matter; choose your favorite chestnut from the sports tree of cliches: The once-bottom-feeding Rays — the perennial doormats of the American League East and second-cheapest franchise in baseball — are playing in tonight’s World Series.
There will be no Red Sox, White Sox or Angels swinging lumber this evening. The Tigers, Mets and Yankees were hitting four-irons instead of fastballs this October.
In other words, Commissioner Bud Selig should have been uncorking his own bottle of bubbly with the Tampa troupe Sunday night, because this time, it wasn’t about money.
Oh, but it could have been. And it was so close.
The script was written on Aug. 31, and 14 days ago, it looked like the would-be Hollywood screenplay was obediently progressing scene by scene. The Dodgers surged past Arizona in the West before the Cubs went all George-Bush-on-a-pretzel on us, and the Red Sox continued their playoff domination over Anaheim. Joe Torre was going to face his nemesis again, only this time donned in Dodger blue. Derek Lowe– the only pitcher to win all three clinching games in one postseason — was going to hurl against the team which he did it on. And of course, Manny Ramirez, his 17 Los Angeles home runs and $16 million salary (that Boston was still paying) was going to return to the Monster that loomed behind him for seven-plus seasons.
But L.A. got out-cheesesteaked by the Brotherly Lovers, and the Sox narrowly missed baseball heaven, denied by the devil-less Rays, as David Ortiz, the most clutch hitter in Red Sox postseason history, barely batted half his weight (.154 — he weighs a modest 230) without the dreadlocked Dominican batting cleanup behind him.
Still, don’t let this “Miracle”-like, feel-good story blind you from what unfolded last August.
Ramirez and the Red Sox had had a love-hate relationship for years before his ugly departure 2 1/2 months ago. Ramirez helped bring Boston two world championships after an 86-year drought, but his shenanigans became too much for management to handle. He limped to the right when he said he had a booboo on his left. He bitch slapped his teammates and ran slower than John Candy on crutches to first base, until he got to L.A. And it wasn’t because he was allergic to baked beans or clam chowder, either.
Two words: Contract year. Two more: Scott Boras.
Boras is Ramirez’s agent. He’s baseball’s bad boy, a combination of a tax collector, a defense attorney and the Grinch. Look up Boras’ name in the dictionary, and there’s a little picture of him in a suit, reaching into a 6-year-old’s back pocket, looking for change. He represents about 65 Major League players, and to him, “Going Green” has an entirely different meaning.
See, Ramirez signed a 10 year, $160 million contract before the 2001 season, equipped with two one-year team options that just now come into play. But Boras was not cosigning Ramirez’s checks 7 1/2 years ago; had Boston resigned their silly slugger, Boras’ pockets would remain at their current depths.
Are you picturing strings stemming upward from Manny’s back with Boras gleefully playing at the reins? Me too.
The World Series begins tonight, featuring the Phillies, who have the 13th biggest payroll in the league, and the Rays, who lead only the Marlins in that category. So baseball is headed in the right direction. Small market teams with fewer fans than George Bush can beat the game’s Goliaths.
Royals fans, Pirates fans, rejoice — there is hope! Right?
Not when agents are puppeteering their clients into quitting on teammates and forgetting that baseball is a pastime meant for kids, just for an extra buck, which for Boras, is like adding a pail of sand to South Beach. If this happened once, who’s to say it won’t happen again? And again?
I wish the Rays were the savior; I wish they were bringing an end to the salary cap-less chaos created by Selig. But they aren’t.
Just wait Brewers fans. Wait until the Players Union — that Selig has allowed to become more powerful than Castro in Havana — pressures CC Sabathia into taking an extra $10 million to go to the Bronx, so the Andy Sonnanstines of the world can make a few grand more in arbitration.
That’s how it works these days.
Still, root for Tampa because they’re fun to watch and they play the game the right way. But don’t be naive; at the end of the day, baseball still revolves around one thing. Just ask Manny.
On second thought, you’re better off skipping the middle man. Call Boras instead.
Derek is a junior majoring in economics. Think he’s too cynical about Major League Baseball? Let him know at [email protected].
