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 The last word Sports Illustrated baseball writer Jeff Pearlman brings down the curtain on Braves-Cubs
Posted: Sunday October 04, 1998 04:20 PM
When I bathe (usually about once every 10 days), it's in water. Sometimes, the water is nice and clear. Other times -- living in New York City and all -- it's a bit brownish. Hot or cold? Anyone's guess on any one day. The shower I use is about the size of a child's coffin, without room for the feet. There is a good bit of grimy buildup on the floor. The plastic door has a crack in it, so upon stepping out, I usually land in a good-sized puddle of mung. I mention this because late last night, there was absolutely no mung in sight. The Atlanta Braves -- cold, efficient, focused -- had just swatted away the pesky gnat that was the Chicago Cubs, and men who average more than $1.7 million in salary opted for the champagne explosion. As players bolted from the wind-whipped Wrigley dugout to the toasty confines of a tiny dressing room, whooops and whooos and yeaaaahhhhhs and weeee-haaaas (whatever the hell weeee-haaaa means) burst out like pits from an orange. Sure, the Braves have much, much, much, much higher aspirations. Some openly admitted a season without a World Series trophy is hardly a season at all. But after taking things too seriously last year, John Smoltz -- head covered in bubbly, mouth running 7,000 words per minute -- insisted he's approaching things differently. "You have to remember, this is fun," he said. "Sometimes, people forget to enjoy themselves along the way." The Braves remembered. Ozzie Guillen, a very good shortstop who played on some truly awful White Sox clubs, rubbed champagne through his thick, dark hair, turning a head into a very nice kiddie pool. Ryan Klesko grabbed Chipper Jones from behind, lifted a bottle and streamed the cold liquid down Jones's back. "Ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!" Jones screamed. Denny Neagle, wearing some nasty Dr. Bukk fake teeth, pointed a bottle and hollered "Get the media!!!!" My jacket has fermented. My skin still smells like old musk. There was laughing and hugging, even a little dancing and grooving. Tom Glavine, a nice man who doesn't smile too often, smiled. Bobby Cox, the manager who hates gold jewelry or music in the clubhouse or Reggie personalities, looked at the mess and nodded his head. Atlanta has been here seven times in a row. But the feeling never grows old. BEING PART OF THE press bonanza at a media orgy like baseball's divisional playoffs is -- despite my friends' constant reminders that I have the greatest gig since, in one doof's words, Pamela Anderson's thong adviser -- a dizzying ordeal. Not only were there 550 of us here in Chicago, but there were also about 550 reasons to leave my Geo Metro running in a closed garage. A few of 'em ... The TV dweeb who asked Mark Grace how he'll remember Sammy Sosa. "God!" said Grace. "Is Sammy dead?" The approximately eight reporters wearing Chicago Cubs gear. The four more wearing Atlanta Braves gear. The Major League Baseball-provided turkey-and-cheese objectoids. Greg Maddux naked. The radio dweeb who asked Sosa if home runs are important to him. Having to witness Henry Rodriguez field a baseball. Having to witness Jeff Blauser try and hit one. Cubs Beanie Babies. The repeated phrase from hell: "Harry Carry is watching over us." IT SEEMS THE CHIC thing du jour is to pick San Diego or Houston to win the NL, which, as most chic things go (parachute pants, zoot suits, Emmanuel Lewis impersonators), doesn't hold much weight. In kicking around the Cubs, Atlanta boasted several elements missing in the past. As Neagle mentioned more than once, the pitching staff -- 1 through 11 -- is the deepest it's ever been. Plus, Walt Weiss and Keith Lockhart provide as much range as a team can have up the middle. The outfield depth is outstanding, and Andres Galarraga is five times the first baseman Fred McGriff was last season. His presence makes lefthanders, who used to cruise through the Braves' lineup, cringe (or at least burp nervously). Will they emerge from the National League? Yes. Are they good enough to beat the Yankees? Yes. Can they win the World Series? Yes -- count on it. FINAL THOUGHT: Nobody took more grief this week than Atlanta Journal-Constitution columnist Mark Bradley, who wrote that playing the Cubs is equal to a first-round bye. Chicago players hung the clip on the clubhouse wall ... said it was ridiculous trash. Atlanta players insisted it was dumb, stupid, retarded, irresponsible, ridiculous trash. Atlanta outscored the Cubs 15-4. Two of the games were blowouts. Chicago never had a chance of winning. Never. Never. Never. The series was a sweep. That's all.
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