Without Wally, the Angels Are, Well, Snakebit

Hey, Wally!

Can you come out and play?

They’ve got a heck of a series going here I think you might enjoy. And your buddies, the other Angel players, could use a lift right now.

The weather is real nice, too. Wish you were here.

Personally, I don’t take sides in these games, but I hate to see one team bully another team like the Red Sox did to your guys Tuesday night here at Fenway. I just want to see a fair fight, and it would be more fair if you could be here.

I understand that leg is still swollen and throbbing like crazy, and nobody wants you to endanger your life or anything, but how about a token appearance? Maybe Reggie Jackson and Bobby Grich could carry you onto the field on a stretcher before the game, and have you lob out the first ball.

Why not? The Red Sox are playing psychological games now. Or somebody is. Let’s just say weird things have been happening since you got bit by a spider or killer ant or whatever it was.

Tuesday night, the Sox pulled the hidden bat trick and the phantom fielder trick. New to you? Yeah, those plays are new to baseball. Just invented Tuesday.

The hidden bat trick was played on Doug DeCinces. He’s been having a good series, hitting the ball long, and a couple of Red Sox accused him and Gary Pettis of using illegal corked bats.

So during batting practice before Tuesday’s game, DeCinces’ game bat disappeared. The Sox may have borrowed it and shipped it out to a bat lab to be X-rayed. Who knows?

The phantom fielder trick they pulled on Bobby Grich, who is filling in for you at first base. Bobby cuts off a relay throw from the outfield, wheels and sees a guy hunkering down over first base and assumes it’s teammate Rob Wilfong, so Grich throws the ball.

But it’s really the Sox first base coach, Walt Hriniak, and Walt moves out of the way and the throw goes wild and it costs the Angels three runs.

“It was unbelievable,” Grich said. “I almost had to laugh to myself.”

The whole series has been a hoot, Wally. The base coaches for the teams have figured into the action more than Reggie Jackson.

I know it’s a seven-game series, and they’re all even now, and tomorrow, which is today, is another day and there’s no tomorrow.

But all the weirdness isn’t easy to shake off.

“I’ve gotta try to forget all this stuff, but it’s gonna be hard,” Grich said. “I got to get all this out of my head.”

Bobby’s not doing a bad job over there at first, Wally, but he’s no Wally. Funny how you never really notice a great first baseman until he gets bit by a mystery bug and winds up watching the biggest series of his life from a hospital bed.

You’ll be happy to know your teammates are taking the shocking developments of the last two games in a very dignified and professional manner. Bob Boone, the Kung Fu catcher, is a calming influence.

“You’re seeing us react right now,” Boone said, gesturing around the cool and collected clubhouse when someone asked how the Angels would react to the night’s disaster. “It’s over with. Tonight’s game has no effect on us once the next game starts.

“We aren’t stupid,” Boone added. “We know what’s in the past, what’s in the future, but it doesn’t matter. Once the game starts tomorrow, we’ll just be doing the best we can do.

“I don’t believe in pressure, as the world views it. When you play in thistype of situation (today’s deciding game), it’s like taking a final exam in a course where you really know the subject, you’ve really studied.”

I’ll buy that, but I think the guys would like to have you around during the test, Wally, to sneak a peek at your answers if they get stuck on a hard question.

Like: Roger Clemens.

You remember Clemens. Big right-hander. Cy Young. Held you to two doubles in the series opener. If Clemens sends you a box of candy, Wally, don’t eat it.

Listen, I’m not saying you would have made the difference in the Angels winning either Game 5 or Game 6, but who knows?

After all, you’re the ladle that stirs the soup, or something like that. You’re the heart of the team. You lead the Angels to the division title, ease off when it’s in the bag, then go 5 for 11 in the first three games of this series.

Calm as they are, I think your teammates could use your influence right now. They need everything they can get their hands on, including DeCinces’ bat.

The Sox fans are fired up to a near frenzy. By the third inning Tuesday night, the players in the Sox bullpen were whirling white towels over their heads, to fire up the crowd. It’s an old Celtic trick, patented by the dreaded M.L. Carr.

Boone says the home court makes no difference, even as rabid as the local fans are.

“It’s irrelevant,” he said.

Maybe, but the Fenway fans will be very loudly irrelevant tonight.

I don’t know if you watched the game on television, Wally, or switched over to something less violent, but you know your team just got mugged, and you realize this is it.

Chips are down. All the marbles. The whole ball of wax. The big enchilada. Know what I mean?

So if you’re not busy tonight, if the old leg starts feeling better, catch yourself a plane to Boston. If nothing else, you can help guard the bat rack.