If History Proves to Be an Indication, Blue Jays to Make Crash Landing

The Baltimore Orioles, struggling as they might be, have the Toronto Blue Jays just where they want them.

That’s right. In first place. In September.

And hearing voices.

OK, on the face of it, you would have to say it does not look so good for the Orioles. The pitching staff is growing smaller daily, and the way the offense looks, the team movie should be, “Honey, I Shrunk the Bats.” You like to see a team score runs in bunches. In the case of the Orioles, you would just like to see a team score.

And where did all that unseemly grumbling come from? All of a sudden, in the midst of a pennant race, on the just-happy-to-be-here Orioles, we hear Keith Moreland talking about his early-retirement plan, Dave Schmidt talking about being released and Jim Traber just talking.

It is time to put aside petty, personal concerns and concentrate on the important stuff, like how to get good tickets for the World Series.

Yes, there is pressure in the pennant race. Hits are harder to come by. So is sleep. And, over the last two weeks, we have been witness to blowouts and shutouts and nights where you wanted to turn the lights out. No one said it was going to be easy.

But hold on to that dream, folks. History may yet come to the Orioles’ rescue. Here is the most important statistic of the early September pennant drive: While the Orioles were busy losing four of their last six games, they lost not one step in their race with the Blue Jays.

It is not over. The fat lady has not sung. The sound you hear is of the Toronto “Please Help Me I’m Falling” Blue Jays whistling in the dark.

Remember 1987? The Blue Jays do. Boy, do they ever.

In 1987, the Blue Jays, a team that had been long on promise and short on delivery, was supposed to change all that. For most of this decade, the Blue Jays have combined power and speed and pitching with an uncanny ability to finish second. Or fourth.

As September was turning to October of that year, the Blue Jays, like the leaves, began falling. They entered the final week of the season 3 1/2 games in front. They finished the season two back, having lost their last seven games. They lost the last one, 1-0, on a home run by the Detroit Tigers’ Larry Herndon, just his ninth of the season.

That was 1987, which came, not surprisingly, only two years after 1985, when the Blue Jays, having won their only division title, were leading the Kansas City Royals, three games to one, in the playoffs. You know what happened. What always happens. What the Orioles can count on happening.

In ‘87, the questions began, relating that year to ’85. I remember the answers then: We’re a different team. We are a more mature team. We will not let that happen again.

And now the questions begin anew.

What is the answer?

I think I know one. The pressure of the pennant race has to weigh more heavily on Toronto. The Blue Jays are supposed to win; the Orioles, conversely, are supposed to deflate like a balloon that inadvertently climbed too high. No one, at least in that company of people in their right minds, would suggest the Orioles had choked. If they lose, it would be because they were not quite good enough. Heck, you could make the case that they were not nearly good enough.

Toronto has more hitting, pitching, power, experience. You name it, the Blue Jays have it, including the ghost of September and October failures.

It was only a few days ago that the Blue Jays looked pretty much invincible, proceeding on a Mike Tyson-style pace. Then they ran into the Minnesota Twins. And now they will run into the questions.

The players will say the past is not on their minds.

It will be.

They will say every team is different.

And, yet, they will wonder.

They will say you can build a field of dreams under a SkyDome.

But still, if the losses start to build, they will wonder just what will come.

Of course, for any of this to happen, the Orioles must do their part and win not just the odd game, but a few others, too. And this weekend, the Kansas City Royals, a team in its own divisional race, is coming to town with its own kind of California dreaming.

Can the Orioles pull it off?

Will the Blue Jays help?

Will Keith Moreland get another at-bat?

We will know all the answers soon enough. But when I hear about destiny, I remember a sign in a Raleigh, N.C., restaurant the year after North Carolina State beat Houston in the miracle of Albuquerque for the NCAA championship that no one thought the Wolfpack could win. The sign said: “Destiny My Foot. We Was Bad.”