Houston – Baseball loses diplomacy in October.
It’s a time of year extraneous statistics fall like leaves. Elite players are narrowly defined, either as greats or goats.
“I don’t think it’s fair,” Houston Astros first baseman Jeff Bagwell said. “But it’s true.”
With legacies tied to this month, it begs the question: What is clutch?
The term is thrown around loosely during the playoffs as an easy way to catalog a performance. In talking to players still standing, their definition of clutch divides into distinct camps: consistency and timing.
“The way I see it, if you hit .330 during the regular season, then you need to hit .330 in the playoffs,” Astros slugger Lance Berkman said. “You can’t expect a guy who batted .250 all year to suddenly hit 100 points higher.”
Or as Astros closer Brad Lidge, a household name because of his postseason magic, put it, “the biggest thing is that you find a way to do what you’ve been doing.”
For others, however, that’s not enough. What a player does is not nearly as important as when.
That’s why images of Reggie Jackson crushing three home runs or Luis Gonzalez sandwedging a ninth-inning single into center field remain etched in our brains.
“I would say it’s more about getting a hit in a big situation,” White Sox center fielder Aaron Rowand said.
“Whether you had three hits that day or no hits that day, it doesn’t matter, as long as you come through when it counts.”
Alex Rodriguez painfully illustrated this point in the Yankees’ recent elimination.
No one can argue Rodriguez is not among the game’s elite, and in the eyes of many, he is the logical choice to win the American League MVP award.
And yet his season rings hollow after he disappeared against the Los Angeles Angels.
Forget he went 2-for-15 with no RBIs in the division series.
The enduring image came in the ninth inning of Game 5 when Rodriguez grounded into a 5-4-3 double play, squashing a comeback.
“I played great baseball this year,” said Rodriguez, barely audible and visibly distraught, “and I played like a dog the last five games.”
Nothing can be more damaging to a team than a falling star. The Angels’ lineup is naked without a productive Vladimir Guerrero, batting just .063 through the first four American League Championship Series games.
For St. Louis, Larry Walker has provided little protection for Albert Pujols, producing one hit in 18 at-bats in the playoffs, hitting .056.
In general, pitchers have the advantage in pressure situations. They are baseball’s white chess pieces initiating moves, leaving batters as the reactionary pawns.
“It is different than a running back getting through a hole or a point guard hitting a wide-open jumper. The pitcher controls the action, and there are eight guys waiting to catch the ball,” said Bagwell, who has been ripped for poor playoff performances until last season. “The old adage is that great pitching beats great hitting. And it’s probably true. You can’t just go, ‘Oh, I am going to rake now.’ It doesn’t work like that.”
Still, some find a way to succeed when palms grow sweaty and mouths fill with cotton. Rockies general manager Dan O’Dowd, thinking to his days in Cleveland with Manny Ramirez, called it the ability “to be totally oblivious to the moment.”
Mr. Octobers
Legacies depend on playoff performances. A look at the all-time best in League Championship Series entering this October:
AVERAGE
Mark Grace .515
Will Clark .468
Carlos Beltran .417
HOME RUNS
George Brett 9
Bernie Williams 9
Steve Garvey 8
Manny Ramirez 8
RBIs
Bernie Williams 33
David Justice 27
John Olerud 23
(Source: Baseball-reference.com)
Staff writer Patrick Saunders contributed to this report.
Staff writer Troy E. Renck can be reached at 303-820-5447 or trenck@denverpost.com.
