Playoff Pressure--There’s Nothing Like It

Sleepless nights. A pounding in the pit of the stomach. Pressure that builds until it grabs hold of a team and shakes it to the core. This is what it’s like to play in baseball’s League Championship Series.

The playoffs are almost a cruel practical joke engineered for prime-time entertainment. Only baseball plays a marathon, 162-game season, and then determines its champion with a sprint -- a best-of-seven playoff leading to the World Series.

“There is no way to prepare for fall baseball,” said Davey Lopes, who made five playoff appearances with the Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago Cubs. “You’re so focused on the games. You have tunnel vision. You don’t sleep. Everything is magnified. So many people are watching for one little mistake. You’re under a microscope, and the whole world is focused on baseball.”

The players and managers will tell you the World Series is easy, but the playoffs are frightening. They can bring a glorious season to a bitter end. That’s why divisional titles are just one stop for this year’s survivors -- the Toronto Blue Jays, Oakland Athletics, Chicago Cubs and San Francisco Giants. Their seasons ultimately will be judged successful only if they reach the World Series.

“Even if you win your division, if you lose in the playoffs, people forget you won it in a few years,” said Baltimore Manager Frank Robinson. “That’s why you have to get to the Series.”

Fear of failure is the worst part of the playoff experience. Every play is dissected. Each pitch has the potential to change a game and a career. It can take months, even years, for players to get over the disappointment after a playoff loss. Some don’t.

Donnie Moore committed suicide this summer, and some of his former California Angels teammates say he was haunted by his performance in the 1986 American League playoffs. The Angels were one out away from winning the series in five games, but Moore allowed a two-run homer to the Boston Red Sox’s Dave Henderson in the ninth and gave up the winning run on Henderson’s sacrifice fly in the 11th.

But most players are able to deal rationally with losing. Just keep them away from a television set.

“If you lose in the playoffs, you have to go home and watch other teams play,” said Joe Morgan, the future Hall of Fame second baseman who played in seven League Championship Series with the Cincinnati Reds, Houston Astros and Philadelphia Phillies. “If you get to the World Series and you lose, even though you’re not the champion, you’ve gone a long way and you’ve played in the last game of the season.”

It used to be worse. The playoffs began with a best-of-five format in 1969 and weren’t extended to seven games until 1985. Under the old setup, a team such as the 1973 New York Mets could finish the regular season three games over .500 and then use its marvelous pitching staff to take apart the Cincinnati Reds in five games.

“The whole thing was a crap shoot,” Morgan said. “In five games, a team with less talent could win. But in seven games, it evens out. Better teams win longer series.”

But even superior teams can lose in a short series.

“Everything is more intense,” said Mookie Wilson, the Toronto outfielder who appeared in two playoffs with the New York Mets. “The atmosphere is more electrified. No matter who is playing in football, no one cares. No one even cares what the president of the United States is doing. Everyone is focused on baseball.”

Yet it is difficult to maintain that focus every day, especially in the World Series. Teams often play at their peak in the playoffs. The 1986 Mets played sensationally to beat the Houston Astros in a six-game playoff that culminated with a dramatic, 16-inning contest. The World Series against the Red Sox was a letdown.

“The World Series couldn’t have gotten any better,” Wilson said. “But it did -- for one game.”

The Mets scored three runs with two out in the bottom of the 10th to beat the Red Sox, 6-5, in Game 6 of the World Series. Wilson was at the plate when a wild pitch brought in the tying run, and he slapped a ball between Bill Buckner’s legs to bring in the winning run.

“I’m remembered for hitting a ball 22 miles per hour,” Wilson said. “But that happens. Everyone was watching.”

The media also play a role in the postseason. Reporters swarm the players before and after games. The onslaught can be overwhelming.

“There is so much hype,” Boston’s Wade Boggs said. “There are so many questions. It’s a circus. Everyone wants a scoop. Some guy writing for the Alaska Chronicle, another for the Japan Sentinel. You’re asked so many questions that the game becomes secondary.”

Sometimes rookies take the entire postseason for granted. It goes by in a flash, and they never absorb the atmosphere.

“I didn’t have to carry the team,” said Dave Righetti, who was a rookie when the New York Yankees played in the 1981 World Series. “I remember being fairly loose. Just the normal nervousness. Maybe I didn’t realize what it all meant. It took a while for everything to set in. The year of playing and winning in the playoffs helped me in the future.”

Dennis Eckersley, Oakland’s top relief pitcher, said the best playoff approach is to remain loose and calm, soaking up the sometimes absurd elements of ridiculous questions, brutal travel and pressure baseball.

“You know that, in the back of your mind, if you don’t win, your season is a failure,” he said. “The prize makes you nervous. You’re only human.”