SOMEWHERE along the way, many American sports fans stopped listening to what major-league baseball had to say. Games 6 and 7 remind us
why baseball is greatThere are a variety of reasons for this steady drain in fan interest and television viewership over the past few decades. For one, if the owners found a curveball to hang themselves on, they did it.
But despite their roles in the work stoppages, the endless legal wranglings, the threats of leaving town like a carnival act if a new stadium isn't built every few years, the American League playing the National League in the regular season, vampire hours for the World Series and the designated hitter, major-league baseball coaxed fans back with potentially the worst Series matchup since Kansas City played St. Louis in 1985.
The first five World Series games between Cleveland and Florida were a little ragged. With all the walks, errors and runs, they resembled a University of Hawaii-at-BYU game.
But the last two reminded us why we love the game so much and are willing to come back to it no matter how hard baseball tries to drive us away.
EVEN if you didn't have a rooting interest -- and it's hard to imagine you would, unless you were from Cleveland or South Florida -- you had to admire the play Cleveland's Omar Vizquel made at shortstop on a hot-shot grounder in the hole by Charles Johnson that preserved Game 6 for the Indians.
It set up a memorable Game 7 that was seen by nearly 70,000 Florida fans and a television audience that only shows up for the Super Bowl, the Olympics and a Seinfeld-ER doubleheader.
The final Nielsen numbers -- a stunning 24.5 rating, the highest for a Series game since Game 7 between the Twins and Braves recorded a 32.2 share in 1991.
The peak for the 1997 game was between 11 and 11:30 p.m. (EST), when nearly 45 percent of the televisions in use were tuned in to see Florida rally for a 3-2 extra-innings victory.
Watching the Marlins do the typical Game 7 pileup near the pitcher's mound touched everyone who was -- or still is -- involved in Little League baseball. Being at the bottom of that pile is a dream few ever realize.
And it didn't take a vivid imagination to know how winning manager Jim Leyland felt during his victory lap around Pro Player Stadium. Like the character Pop, played by Wilford Brimley in "The Natural," you couldn't help but think Leyland was jinxed as a manger.
HE had been in a similar neighborhood during his managing days at Pittsburgh, only to be locked out after late-inning heroics by the Atlanta Braves. This time, the gate opened.
That is the kind of drama baseball has given us so often through the years. Sure, it's sometimes as action-packed a chess match. But it's our game. It has been with us for more than a century, and is as much a part of American history as the World Wars.
Fifty years ago, there wasn't a lot of competition in sports. Baseball was THE only game in town. But now it's fighting for its life because people have a million channels to surf through and the attention span that goes with it.
A football game can go a half, Michael Jordan can score 14 points in the fourth quarter, and even hockey can produce a goal or two in the time it takes a batter to back out of the box, readjust his gloves, tug at his shirt and spit on the grass before getting back in for the second pitch.
But it's up to us to teach our children to be patient, to revel in the anticipation of what the next swing of the bat might bring, and not forget that when baseball knocks at your door, like family, you have to let it in.
Paul Arnett has been covering sports
for the Star-Bulletin since 1990.
Text Site Directory:
[News] [Business] [Features] [Sports] [Editorial] [Community]
[Info] [Letter to Editor] [Stylebook] [Feedback]
© 1997 Honolulu Star-Bulletin
http://starbulletin.com