He’s Getting All Mushy About October Baseball

It’s a city known for its great theater, and although I know the Angels lost and blah, blah, somebody has to be blamed, Sunday night’s East Coast to West Coast thriller is probably going to have me sounding like Rex Hudler.

There were 56,226 people here -- males and an occasional female and all named Joe with nothing else meaning so much in their lives -- making such a ruckus in Yankee Stadium that the press box was swaying.

The Angels were ahead, 2-0, only a few innings away from flying to Chicago for the next round when Gary Sheffield -- blame it on the Dodgers for not holding on to him -- lashed a ferocious single to left to drive in a run.

Eight outs to go, and Ruben Sierra singled home a run. Score tied, and every play now counting on a cool, crisp night on baseball’s most hallowed ground with every Yankee swinging to find immortality in Monument Park.

In the end though, it was a night of entertainment settled by a dribbler to third off the bat of the Yankee captain.

Chone Figgins, as gifted a fielder one moment and just as erratic the next, took the Derek Jeter hopper and then bounced his throw home.

Catcher on catcher, Jorge Posada hit home plate with his cleats as Bengie Molasses tagged him with his glove.

Too bad they are so picky in these classic encounters or Manager Mike Scioscia might’ve had an argument, but the ball was in Molasses’ bare hand and he was too slow to record the out.

The noise in this place, inspired by the relief that came from overcoming what appeared to be the end of the season a few minutes earlier, had these sports fanatics giving it their all. Or, as Darin Erstad described it the other night, “It’s the loudest I have ever heard a stadium. It’s so loud, it’s good.”

On the scoreboard, a tape of Rudy Giuliani urging the fans to cheer on the Yankees was played. The camera then found him sitting in the stands in a Yankee cap and jacket, the folks here used to following his lead, and so they did when he began to wave. Tough to beat Mariano Rivera and Rudy Giuliani.

Maybe tonight the Angels will counter with the Rally Monkey or Arnold. Maybe tonight it will be all K-Rod. Maybe the outcome will be different.

But in Yankee Stadium, Rivera had already gotten three outs, needed three more, and the final one, as if scripted, would have the best relief pitcher in baseball taking on Vladimir Guerrero.

Welch versus Reggie, if only Guerrero would take a few pitches to allow the drama to grow.

Hard to accept it now, especially if you’re an Angel fan, because it didn’t go your way -- Guerrero bouncing out to second, but what great October fun.

I’ve spent so much time around the Dodgers, I almost forgot it was possible.

*

BEFORE THE game I put in an interview request for a sleepwalking Garret Anderson, still doing everything I can to get him motivated.

Just the thought of talking to Page 2 woke him up the other night, and afterward I told him I’d be back all the way through the postseason to keep him going. He nodded off before I could get an answer.

An Angel spokesman returned Sunday night to say Anderson didn’t want to talk. That would have meant his going through the trouble of opening his mouth.

A few minutes later Anderson emerged from the clubhouse, and I called to him but got a cold indifferent shoulder in return. We ran into each other again on the field before batting practice, but he kept right on walking to shake hands with a fan in the stands, who turned out to be Joel Oks, also known as the Manhattan Mooner.

Oks has a clothing store at 42nd and Madison just down the street from the hotel where most Yankee opponents stay, and for more than two decades when the opposition’s bus passes his store on the way to Yankee Stadium, Oks turns his back on them and drops his drawers.

“I’ve known Garret for some time; we usually go out and eat together whenever Garret is in town,” the Mooner said. “Eddie Murray introduced us years ago, and he gets his suits from me.”

(I’m guessing that first conversation involving Murray and Anderson went something like this: “I don’t like talking to human beings,” Murray said. “Me neither,” said Anderson, and then they went out to dinner with the Manhattan Mooner -- the Mooner talking to himself all night.)

“Garret won’t talk to me,” I joked to Scioscia. “But he’ll talk to the Mooner.”

“He might be looking for some techniques so he can do it to you,” Scioscia said, and I’m not sure if he was joking.

*

HE STILL has a big date with Arizona State and another with USC, but Maurice Drew is doing what you have to do to earn a trip to New York as one of the finalists for the Heisman Trophy presentation.

Right now the trophy is still probably Reggie Bush’s to lose -- Matt Leinart and LenDale White also getting attention. But if UCLA doesn’t crumble under the pressure of being ranked No. 12, Drew might be right there. As you know, he can’t be stopped.

*

TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Ted Gambogi:

“Who’s dull now? What an amazing come-from-behind victory for the Bruins and they did it with creative plays. (Don’t you) think it’s about time you write a complimentary column about Karl Dorrell without comparing him to Pete Carroll?”

Not until he can walk on water the way Uncle Pete can.

T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Simers, go to latimes.com/simers.