This Is Nothing to Cheer About

Where were you when the Dodgers clinched the playoffs? I guess few of us will ever forget. The excitement, wow. When that crowd went wild Friday night, when that incredible roar went up at Dodger Stadium from 53,294 fans, man oh man . . .

Oh, OK, so “roar” is a little strong.

OK, so Brett Butler by himself made more noise than the crowd did, when he crossed the length of the dugout, slapping palms with every Dodger in there. (With his good hand, I hope.)

OK, so no announcer was screaming: “The Dodgers Win At Least the Wild Card! The Dodgers Win At Least the Wild Card!”

On what should have been an enjoyable night, the Dodgers and their fans had to sit there and swallow a 5-2, 10-inning defeat, without even being able to celebrate their advancement into baseball’s absurdly complicated playoffs.

Subdued? Extremely. But don’t blame the fans. Many of them didn’t understand that if X (Montreal) lost to Y (Atlanta), that meant Z (San Diego) could sweep L.A. (L.A.) and still not knock the Dodgers out of the National League playoffs. X could still tie Z, but the worst L.A. could do was open the playoffs playing Y.

This “wild card” thing, what a joke.

What once was as simple as Sesame Street now has turned into something so full of twists and turns that it leaves fans trying to explain to one another why a tie between the Padres and Expos would result in a one-game, pre-playoff playoff, whereas a tie between the Padres and Dodgers would result in a championship for the Padres.

This is only slightly less ridiculous than Tony Gwynn having a better batting average than Mike Piazza, except that Tony has too few at-bats to be the batting champion, unless of course they subtract 10 at-bats from Tony’s total and his batting average is still better than Mike’s.

For those of you scoring at home, take two aspirin and call me in the morning.

They were a little less than an hour into Friday’s game, when Southern California’s two fine baseball teams--two out of three ain’t bad--got the news that the Montreal Expos had just been defeated, 6-4, by the Atlanta Braves. (I believe the Braves celebrated by flying the Canadian flag upside down.)

At that point, The Big Mitsubishi Scoreboard in the Sky explained to the fans in the stands that Montreal’s loss meant the Dodgers had officially made the playoffs, no matter what happens the rest of this weekend. Ah, yes, there’s nothing like that rush you get in the 160th game of the season, when you make the playoffs thanks to Atlanta beating Montreal.

One of these teams, the Padres or Expos, has to be eliminated soon, but naturally will receive some nice parting gifts.

I am pretty sure that, if my math is correct, a Padre sweep of the Dodgers would mean that the Dodgers get sent to the NCAA Southeast Regional to play the winner of the conference final between North Carolina and Duke, while the Padres would face top-seeded Kentucky in the Midwest top bracket at Kansas.

Whatever suspense did exist, with fans waiting to see if the Red Sox or White Sox or Astros or Mariners could prolong their chances right up to the final pitch, fizzled out Friday as the playoffs took shape. It’s actually a little embarrassing, sitting there watching the once-proud baseball race turn into a ball of confusion.

Players don’t even know how to celebrate.

What do you pour over your teammates’ heads, beer for the division, red wine for the league and champagne for the World Series?

There were the Dodgers, right smack in the playoffs, and the only thing they felt like celebrating in the clubhouse was the fact that the water was hot in the shower.

What we do know for sure is that San Diego still has a shot at winning the National League West, which would cause the Dodgers to open the playoffs against Atlanta rather than the St. Louis Cardinals. (And to enter the playoffs with a four-game losing streak. Now there’s a grim thought.)

It looked like a happy day for the Dodgers with the playoffs in the bag, but that was before Ken Caminiti of the Padres began clubbing them with his bat. Caminiti, who always looks like a guy on his way to a Raider game, personally put a stop to the Dodger party before it even got started.

You don’t pour booze over teammates’ heads, just because Montreal lost to Atlanta. A crowd of 53,294 had to go home Friday night, feeling as though the Dodgers had just clinched . . . well, nothing.