RMJ 198 September 1

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 ● Labor Day ● Houston, vs Milwaukee

I remember the old Labor Day doubleheaders. It used to be that when Americans were on holiday, we worked double-time; not any more. The People magazine/ESPN mentality — rapid-fire images, short and sweet — reflects, if not dictates, the attention spans of our customers. A three-hour game is more than enough.

It used to be that we could play a doubleheader in five hours, and the fans felt like they were getting twice their money’s worth.

 

I had a meeting with the team. I conspired to have Cheo Cruz follow up with a loud exhortation to augment my arguments. It seemed to go well, though I really have my doubts as to how much you can do with a meeting.

My line was to say that we are a good team — maybe not as good as we were in July, but certainly not as bad as we were in August. I challenged the players to condense their concentration for just one month.

Get your maximum leads and secondary leads; get that extra base. On defense, concentrate on every pitch. Be ready if the ball is hit to you. Know in advance what you are going to do when it comes your way.

We have to be aggressive. They say you can’t make the last out at third base. Well, Bidge did that yesterday, and it was a great play. No, it didn’t work, but if he makes it, we can tie on just one single.

We have to play that way. We can’t sit around and wait for home runs.

If we make the playoffs, who knows? We might play like we did in July. If we do that, we could go all the way. We’ve had a lot of help lately, with the Pirates losing. But we can’t expect to get to the playoffs that way. We have to start winning — and we will. This is too good a team to play losing baseball two months in a row. Does anyone else have anything to say?

 

“I have something to say, Larry.” It was Cheo, right on cue.

“I say we gotta kick some ass. We gotta swing the bleeping bats. We gotta make the bleeping plays. I’m tired of this shit. We are too good to play like this. What, is somebody afraid of the other bleeping team? The bleeping White Sox. The bleeping Brewers. These teams are horseshit. There is no bleeping way these teams can beat us if we [by now he is screaming] swing the bleeping bats! Catch the bleeping ball!

“You pitchers! Throw hard. Hit some bleeping body. Knock them on their bleeping ass. That’s what I say. Anybody else want to say something?”

Cheo is a lively guy, but he usually doesn’t cuss much. His language was for emphasis. And it had the desired effect: everyone was laughing.

I think a few guys realized that Cheo was performing, but who cares? They were also thinking, He’s right. We need to wake up and kick some ass.

Bidge said that he was tired of losing to American League teams. Billy said that we had to pull together: us against the world.

Tony Peña said that he has been on winning teams, and he thought this was a winning team.

“The thing we have to do, is just do our job.” he said. “Don’t try to do too much. Just do your own job.”

There was a sense of togetherness, and I had high hopes. Chris Holt was pitching, and he really threw well in his last start in Atlanta. I had a new cleanup hitter, Ricky Gutierrrez. And I had Bobby Abreu in left and Richard Hidalgo in center.

 

Biggio opened with a hit. With two outs, he was on second when Ricky lashed a sinking liner to the right side. Fernando Viña was right there to snare it at his shoetops.

In the third, we had a run in with the bases loaded when Ricky came up. He hit a sizzling line drive up the middle — but for some unknown reason, Viña was playing there. He made a great backhanded pickup and turned it into a double play.

The Brewers tied the game in the fourth on three singles — the last by Mike Matheny with two strikes in the count. Matheny had just swung and missed on a curve, and Vern and I looked at each other.

“I hope he doesn’t throw another curve,” I said.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Vern replied.

Holt threw the curve, and Matheny singled up the middle.

I slammed my fist against the bat rack.

We have been getting killed with two-strike curve balls all year long. I guess they don’t teach the Jerry Lucas photo-memory course at Dartmouth.

The next inning, Holt got wild. He walked a batter and made two mistakes up in the strike zone. We were down 3-1.

Phil Garner removed his starting pitcher, Joel Adamson, after five innings, and I felt a little better. Adamson is one of those soft-tossing lefties who gives us fits.

The new pitcher, righthander Mike Fetters, had better stuff.

In the seventh, we threatened a comeback. Thomas Howard took off for third on a double-steal with one out. He appeared to be safe, but Eric Gregg called him out. Tank grabbed his helmet in disbelief; Cubby started arguing. I walked out deliberately, thinking This might not be a bad time to get thrown out

I started yelling at Gregg when I was still twenty feet away. I gestured with my arms, used every expletive in the book. Luckily for me, he got right in my face and screamed back.

At one point, I said, “It wasn’t even bleeping close.”

He said, “you’re right, it wasn’t even bleeping close.”

We both repeated that line, like children, four or five times.

Finally he said, “When you watch the replay, you’re going to have to apologize to me.”

“I’ll tell you what, Eric,” I said. “When I see the replay, if you are right, I will apologize.”

He seemed satisfied with this, and I was about spent. I turned to walk back to the dugout, and I got a standing ovation.

I don’t know why Eric let me persist so long. But for a man who seemed to be irate, he sure showed a lot of patience. By going toe-to-toe with me, he made it possible for me to show some passion. The way we have been going, I didn’t have to fake it. Still, I don’t know if I could have raged if he had just turned away and shrugged me off.

 

Everyone was fired up when I got back to the dugout, but Derek grounded out to end the inning.

In the eighth, we scored a run on Bagwell’s single and Abreu’s double. We came up short in the ninth, leaving the bases loaded. Ricky Gutierrez made the last out.

Afterward, a radio reporter said, “How did you come up with Gutierrez as a cleanup man? That’s a joke.”

“Who would you like to have hitting cleanup? I asked. “Have you got any better ideas? Would you like to make out the lineup?”

This put the guy on the defense, but it also got those pens and pencils going. I knew it would be in the paper the next day, and I didn’t care. I didn’t even get too upset after the rhubarb with Gregg; I guess I’m getting hardened to the task. A month ago, I would have been distressed by my lack of composure. Now I go wild and don’t even care.

I guess I’m making some good progress in this job.

 

When I got home, Judy was jogging, and Ryan was playing video baseball with a friend. I wasn’t sleepy, but I sure didn’t feel like doing anything. We were supposed to go to a 30^th birthday party for Gonzo later on, and I just laid down to cool out.

Judy came back, and she thought I was mad. I wasn’t asleep when she turned out the lights, but I did fall asleep later, and I didn’t wake up until after the party was started. She was still in her jogging clothing, and Ryan was at a friend’s house.

I mentioned the party, and she gave me the quick, over-the-shoulder glance of disapproval. She was cooking dinner. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to go, because you were sleeping,” she said.

We had a brief exchange, but I sure didn’t want to do the rhubarb thing again. I just sat quietly, reading the paper. Ryan came home and we had dinner. We played Yahtzee and then went to Ryan’s room.

He is happy now because he gets to quit his team and join a new one. He thinks he will get a chance to pitch. Who knows?

 

Judy read to Ryan. We were all in his bed — the three of us and the two dogs. It was what the sushi crowd might call quality time.

 

For the first time, I questioned myself for taking the manager’s job.

 

Is this what you really want? Is it because of the money, the fame, the perks? Is it for all the wrong reasons? Or is this just a bad day that will turn good tomorrow?

 

I think it will be the latter. The next month will surely answer those questions.