Angels’ Preview Is a Thriller

I have always been leery of any baseball “playoff preview” played during the last week of July.

Especially any “playoff preview” played during a season which may not have any playoffs to preview, thank you Bud Selig and Donald Fehr.

Especially any “playoff preview” played between the Cleveland Indians and the California Angels.

Playoffs?

These two?

Let us review:

Since 1954, or two years before Eddie Murray was born, Cleveland has won zero pennants. Since 1961, the year Gene Autry bought his way into the American League owners club, the Angels have won zero pennants.

That’s 40 pennant-less seasons plus 34 pennant-less seasons. Two teams, 74 attempts, not a thing, not a ring to show for any of it.

In terms of postseason history and October tradition, the Angels hosting the Indians is a little like the Gobi Desert hosting the Sahara.

Yet the numbers Tuesday night, pre-opening pitch, were as tempting as a palm tree-lined oasis, even if it might only be a mirage.

The visiting team came in hitting .290 and playing .722.

The home team came in hitting .284 and playing .593.

The visiting team had six .300 hitters in its starting lineup.

The home team did, too.

The visiting team had the best earned-run average in the league.

The home team had the second best.

The starting pitching matchup was Orel Hershiser against Chuck Finley.

So it wasn’t the second week of October.

So the Angels and the Indians haven’t played a meaningful game in September since the 1980s.

No team, in either league, has played a meaningful game in September since 1993. The last World Series was completed more than a month before the Mighty Ducks played their first National Hockey League game. Since Joe Carter hit his home run (remember when Joe Carter hit home runs?) against Mitch Williams (remember when Mitch Williams pitched baseballs?) 21 months ago, all the fans have had to occupy themselves with are playoff reviews.

This Angel-Indian encounter session might not have been the real thing, but Tuesday night, 42,468 ticket buyers were willing to settle for a credible simulation. That announced figure included, according to the Angels’ publicity staff, more than 15,000 walk-ups.

In Anaheim, where a game between the Angels and the Tigers two days earlier drew 18,948, that’s film-at-11 kind of news.

Are the fans really coming back?

Are the Angels and the Indians really the two best teams in the American League?

Is this the first outbreak of pennant fever?

Probably not. Memories are very long here, and 1991 and 1993 are recent enough to cause any Angel observer/sufferer to flinch, twitch and convulse. But, it must be noted, one Angel fan was driven up a foul pole Tuesday--or halfway up. The fan began his climb in the top of the seventh inning, delaying Angel reliever Troy Percival’s first pitch to Sandy Alomar Jr.

Like an eager freshman confronting his first gym-class rope, the climber began scaling the pole in the left-field corner. Up, up he went, and with every tug, the crowd cheered louder. Who was this strange person? A disgruntled postal worker? A former Rams season-ticket holder? A protester? (“I’m not coming down until the Angels trade for a pitcher!”) A rabid Jim Edmonds fan determined to catch the next ball his favorite player hit?

The human fly of Anaheim got as far as the foul pole screen, a good 20, 25 feet above the warning track, before his arms tuckered out and he slid back down the pole, Batman-style, into the waiting arms of two burly policemen.

By the looks of things--the Texas Ranger pitching staff, in particular--the Angels and their fans are in for two more months of this. Can the Angels stand the pressure? And if they can, what about the people in the bleachers?

In the eighth inning, a few more loopy fans in the center-field upper deck unfurled a large bedsheet banner. “YES WE CAN,” the battle cry of ‘79, was scrawled across it.

And on the field below, more craziness.

The Angels knock out Hershiser in the third inning, pounding him for five runs in 2 1/3, Hershiser’s shortest outing in nearly four seasons.

Garret Anderson goes deep again, his eighth home run and his 32nd RBI in his 44th game. Has a June call-up ever been rookie of the year?

Herbert Perry, another June call-up, starting in place of Paul Sorrento for the Indians, drills a two-run double, Jim Thome golfs a John Habyan pitch into the rear of the right-field bullpen and the Indians pull to within 6-5 as the game enters the eighth inning. And then, the ninth.

Lee Smith comes on. Surprisingly, judging from the reports of his imminent demise, he makes the walk to the mound without medical assistance.

Smith pitches to Manny Ramirez. Three strikes.

Smith pitches to Thome. Three more strikes.

With the crowd roaring--or was that piped-in noise from an old 1986 tape?--Smith pitches to Sorrento. Line drive into the left-center field gap. Single at least, probably a double. Sorrento hustles into second, but Edmonds’ relay beats him.

Second baseman Damion Easley applies the tag.

Second base umpire Mike Reilly spreads his arms--safe.

A second later, he changes his mind--out.

The final judgment stands and the final out is recorded there, at second base, with Easley hopping into the air and Edmonds happily slapping his glove against the outfield grass.

Playoff preview?

If so, may the feature presentation live up to the trailer.