Ballgame's Points

Jul 24

Halladay Deal Could Be Second “Holliday” for Fantasy Owners

With exactly one week before the MLB Trade Deadline, Roy Halladay — the biggest prize available — remains a Blue Jay, and general manager J.P. Ricciardi indicated Tuesday the club is unlikely to deal the ace.

Naturally, that statement can be chalked up as GM jockeying, and Ricciardi is one of the best in the business when it comes to that. When he first made it known that he would be open to hearing Halladay offers back on July 7, two of the first phone calls he received were from Theo Epstein of the Red Sox and Brian Cashman of the Yankees.

The one thing Toronto would like to avoid is dealing Doc to an AL East foe, because 1) it would further alter the balance of power in baseball’s most competitive division, and 2) Halladay is the one guy available who would be an absolute game-changer in the never-ending Sox-Yanks arms race.

However, any smart GM knows that if he wants to max out the value of a star player whose departure is imminent, the talks must first go through Boston and New York. In this case, Halladay has one year left on his contract, and as opposed to the past, said he does not want to sign a contract extension. Which means Ricciardi essentially has three windows in which to deal him for some significant parts: before the Trade Deadline, in the offseason, before the 2010 Trade Deadline.

The chances of Halladay landing in Beantown or the Big Apple are slim, considering the prices would likely be too steep for either club — probably Clay Buchholz and Daniel Bard from the Sox or Joba Chamberlain and Phil Hughes from the Yanks — to bite on. But a bidding/prospect war is exactly what Ricciardi wants, and any fantasy owners with Halladay should want the same. Why?

Because there’s another team in the Northeast Corridor that has the pieces to acquire Halladay, and as opposed to Boston and New York, really really needs his services. That would be the defending champion Philadelphia Phillies.

Relying on a rotation that includes Cole Hamels (struggling), Jamie Moyer (ancient) and Joe Blanton (serviceable at best), the Phils can’t expect to mount a serious title defense come October without doing something significant to their rotation, particularly given the imploding act that has been Brad Lidge this year. The one bright spot on their staff has been 26-year-old rookie left-hander, J.A. Happ. Happ is big (6-6), throws in the mid 90s and is 7-0 with a 2.68 ERA in 23 games (11 starts) this season.

If the Phillies can get Toronto to accept a package of Happ and a few other top prospects (outfielders Michael Taylor and Dominic Brown have been discussed), Halladay’s fantasy value will go through the roof.

Think about it for a minute. Doc has spent his entire career pitching in the trenches of the AL East, the majority of which he’s done in the era of the unbalanced schedule. Of his 273 career starts, 68 (or 25 percent) have come against the Red Sox and Yankees. He’s hurled 20 complete games from 2007-09, most in the bigs, and possesses a career ERA of 3.46.

Now, project those numbers to a league without the DH and a division with the Marlins and Nationals instead of the Red Sox and Yankees. Yikes.

Everyone saw what CC Sabathia did when he made the move to the NL in the second half of 2008 (11-2, 1.65 ERA, seven complete games in 17 starts). Well, Halladay is better than Sabathia, so fantasy owners can do the math.

While Halladay talks have dominated the airwaves and water coolers for the better part of three weeks, just as I was writing this piece, a deal of comparable proportions actually got done. The Cardinals sent three players to the A’s in exchange for outfielder Matt Holliday.

This is a major move for St. Louis, as the Cardinals look to bolster their lineup for a run at a second World Series in four years. But it’s just as big for fantasy owners with Holliday, who was never right in the American League in the middle of an extremely soft Oakland lineup. But if he was ever settling into a groove, it was just recently, as he’s hit .344 with a .986 OPS this month. Additionally, he came out of the All-Star break swinging a fiery stick, cranking three homers and knocking in 11 runs over the last eight games, easily his most prolific stretch this season.

So not only is a scorching Holliday headed back to the familiarity of the National League, but he’s leaving a lineup where he protected the likes of Kurt Suzuki and Scott Hairston, and slipping into a batting order where he’ll likely hit between Albert Pujols and Ryan Ludwick, the most fearsome slugger in the game and one of the hottest hitters over the last month.

For all intents and purposes, Holliday was a fantasy bust for the first three months of the 2009 season. Those days appear to be over, as he’s shown signs of life lately and is now primed for a monstrous stretch run with a contender.

Owners with the bopper should be licking their chops, and if they happen to also employ one Roy Halladay, there just might be a second “Holliday” coming within the next week.

Jul 10

Torre All Class in the “Citi”

Bill O’Reilly was standing next to third base as the Mets were taking batting practice before Thursday’s game vs. the Dodgers at Citi Field.

The real “no spin zone”, however, was a few paces away over in the visitors dugout, where manager Joe Torre was engaging a group of reporters — a handful of whom he knew well from his days managing the Yankees up in the Bronx.

Torre touched on a variety of team topics, from Orlando Hudson’s struggles — Torre dropped him to seventh in the lineup for the first time all season and he responded with a three-run double in the first — to the roster flexibility he’s afforded by having such a talented nucleus.

When asked why Matt Kemp has spent a lot of time recently in the eight hole, he returned the question to the reporter, asking him who he would put there (Kemp is 24-for-45 with seven RBIs and seven runs in that spot). He wasn’t being condescending; Joe Torre is as straight of a shooter as there is in a profession characterized by hedging and line-feeding. He was genuinely inquiring whether anyone had a better idea of what to do with a lineup full of dynamic, young and mostly interchangeable parts. The old “if ain’t broke don’t — the bleep — fix it” adage, if you will. Other managers would have verbalized some form of that saying as a response; Torre merely implied it. Everyone had a laugh.

It’s that kind of candor and sincerity that endeared Torre to the city of New York, its fans, and the media. When the man speaks to you, you don’t feel like he’s doing his civic duty in a public setting. You could, for all intents and purposes, be having the talk over a couple of beers. That’s the wonder of Torre, the reason why most associated with him say there’s no one else like him in the game.

The topic of the press conference shifted to the Yankees and Torre spoke about how lucky he was to inherit a Yankees club that would have been playoff-bound regardless of whether he was there. He talked about how that team and experience shaped him — he never made the playoffs in 18 seasons as a player and got to one October in a combined 15 years managing the Mets, Braves and Cardinals.

For a man who had played his first nine seasons with Hank Aaron, made nine All-Star teams, won an MVP in 1971 and arrived in New York in 1996 having spent more than 30 years in the game without so much as sniffing the promised land, to win four titles in a five-year span was as humbling as it was exhilarating.

Torre, for so long one of the game’s class acts, was suddenly its most celebrated winner. Yet once the 2000s hit and the Yanks started flaming out annually in October, people (read: his Boss) started to question whether he was really that elite manager who presided over the glory years or merely a guy who managed some egos and tapped his right arm to summon his otherworldly closer.

That, Torre said, was when he began to sniff the beginning of the end.

“When we got to the World Series and lost in ’01 and ’03, and that was a failure…” Torre said before tailing off. He said that was when he knew expectations had become unrealistic, and without saying it, implied that gratitude should be doled out for making the playoffs 12 straight years, capturing six pennants and winning four rings.

As for the “managing egos isn’t managing” argument that his few detractors use as ammo against him, try spending a day in a clubhouse, let alone 162. Then stick a bunch of bona fide superstars and a handful of Hall of Famers in there and put it in the biggest sports market in the world. That’s the world he inhabited for 12 years, the world so many dismissed as solely a privilege to be a part of without acknowledging what a taxing and perpetual balancing act it was.

When the conversation returned to the Dodgers and Manny’s return, Torre spoke about how lucky they were to have a guy like Manny to stick in the middle of the lineup. He’s right, but given what’s gone down in the last two months, the truth is Manny is equally lucky to have Torre as his manager.

Case in point: When Manny was ejected Tuesday for flipping his batting gloves in the direction of home-plate umpire John Hirschbeck, he said afterward, “[Hirschbeck] made a mistake. I think it’s a ball. I just threw my pad and walked to the field. I was coming out in the fifth anyway, so no big deal.”

The reality was only Manny — of course — knew he was coming out of the game regardless in the fifth. When that tidbit was presented to Torre, he deadpanned, “He told me that, too. I wasn’t aware of that.” That’s a player’s manager, a term that should never be thrown around loosely or be underappreciated. That’s Joe Torre.

Throughout the 30-minute gathering with the media Thursday, there were constant roars from planes taking off from nearby LaGuardia Airport and passing just above the ballpark, rendering Torre inaudible for 15 or so seconds every two minutes. Apparently, he had just concluded filming some sort of promotional spot on the field before the press conference, and upon seeing a Mets executive walking by the dugout, shouted over everyone: “Thanks a lot for having the planes diverted around the stadium, it really helped.”

“And just as I was finishing, the rehearsal of the national anthem was perfect!”

Everyone had a laugh.

Jun 26

Sox Machine Keeps Motoring

Has anyone else noticed how machine-like the Red Sox have become?

To this team, obstacles don’t register and negative storylines carry minimal weight. Losses — when they come — seemingly dissipate into thin air while victories are greeted with little fanfare (like, for instance, any of the eight wins in eight tries they’ve piled up against the Yankees).

The fans still swarm into Fenway and belt out “Sweet Caroline” before the eighth inning, but now more than ever, being associated with the Red Sox is to be part of a world-class enterprise: an impeccably constructed, well-oiled and systematically run baseball machine.

It began last year after the club parted ways with Manny Ramirez, marking a new era within the new era of Red Sox baseball. Minus the enigmatic and endearing slugger for the first time since the franchise shed it’s long-standing title of choke torchbearers, a severely depleted Sox contingent motored all the way to the seventh game of the American League Championship Series.

The theme of constantly battling the odds — yet feeling next to no effects of them in the big picture — has continued in 2009.

Consider the following:

After losing six of its first eight games, Boston was 3 1/2 games behind Toronto before barely blinking. That four of those losses came against its two playoff foes from a year ago (Tampa Bay and Anaheim), alarm bells were probably sounding somewhere, but nobody cared to hear them.

Josh Beckett was atrocious in April, logging a 7.22 ERA in five starts. When a Boston ace gets tuned up in April, it’s typically time to lay into the panic button. Panic?? Puh-lease.

As poor as Beckett performed early on, he was outdone by Jon Lester. Their lynchpin in the rotation last year, Lester got abused in six of his first 10 starts. No worries kid, you’ll get em next time.

How about Theo and the Trio’s $100 million man? Let’s just say Dice-K’s first stint on the DL was far more productive than all but one of his eight starts. He’s back on the shelf again, and aside from feeling bad for the guy, is anyone really losing much sleep over his absence?

Then there’s David Ortiz. The man whose toothy grin and big stick made life after Manny seem manageable. Still hindered by an injured wrist and knee, Big Papi cranked 10 homers and knocked in 46 runs while slugging .529 in the two months PM (post-Manny) last year.

He assured all he was healthier, hungrier and fitter than ever this spring before coming out of the gates looking like he’d never seen a 92 mph fastball. After two months, one homer, a .186 average and five different spots in the batting order, “Ortiz” and “release” began floating around in the same sentence. While Papi has since (thankfully) rediscovered his stroke, the fact remains the Sox skipped not a beat during an extended period of time when their most feared hitter had morphed into the easiest out in baseball.

Throw in Kevin Youkilis landing on the DL after carrying the team (.393-6-20) over the first month and change, Dustin Pedroia running on hot and cold, J.D. Drew’s disappearance from the middle of April through the middle of May, Mike Lowell’s continued recovery from offseason hip surgery, both shortstops getting sidelined … and there’s no way this team could possibly be perched atop the American League today … right?

Well, as the kids are saying: Beleedat.

Indeed, the Red Sox have a four-game lead on the Yankees in the AL East and a three-game advantage over the Tigers for best record in the league. They’ve stormed back from three and a half down in the division on May 18. They’ve won five straight series and haven’t lost more than two games in a row since the second week of the season.

They have arms sprouting like dandelions: John Smoltz is here; Clay Buchholz and Michael Bowden remain in the pipeline; Daniel Bard mowed down 16 batters in his first 15 appearances as a big leaguer.

Their lineup is gelling; their starting pitching is top-notch; their bullpen is unmatched. No matter whom Terry Francona sticks in his lineup — from Jason Bay to Jonathan Van Every — they’ve all produced.

Put it all together and the Red Sox again appear to be on a track leading to and through October.

ESPN has already dubbed Albert Pujols “The Machine” and Cincinnati will always lay claim to “The Big Red Machine”, but is there any denying the Olde Towne Team has transformed into the Olde Towne Machine?

Jun 18

Takahashi Story and Dice-K Thoughts

After lots of networking and prodding, I was given the opportunity to cover a Mets-Phillies game last week for MLB.com. The story I ended up writing was on Ken Takahashi, the New York relief pitcher who served up the game-winning homer in extra innings to Raul Ibanez. The link is below.

http://mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20090612&content_id=5283844&vkey=news_mlb&fext=.jsp&c_id=mlb

Coincidentally, Takahashi was one of a few players around when I was in the clubhouse before the game. He conversed with a Japanese writer for about 20 minutes and passed the rest of the time hanging out with his interpreter.

Until this year, Takahashi had spent 14 seasons pitching for Hiroshima Toyo Carp in Japan’s Central League. He was acquired and released by the Blue Jays this spring, at which point the Mets signed him to a Minor League contract. Since his callup at the beginning of May, he was more or less just another arm in the Mets bullpen.

Outside of closers, relief pitchers go largely unnoticed by the media; they are the linemen of baseball, meaning they typically only garner attention when they screw up.

For Japanese ballplayers in the US, role or stature matters not; be it Ichiro or, well Ken Takahashi, their every move is tracked and dissected by a personal shadow of reporters from back home. Japan is a baseball rabid culture, and when one of their own makes the move across the Pacific, they are eager to chronicle his progress.

Needless to say, Takahashi was borderline despondent in the clubhouse after the game. When he spoke to the four or five Japanese reporters, his voice registered as barely more than a whisper; the despair in his eyes needed no translation. He gave up a game, sure, but he also let down his true fans half a world away. It was only then that it really hit me what a monumental transition it must be for a player to take such a leap.

In Takahashi’s case, he left everything he knew and entered a situation where all he could relate to was the game itself and the man he entrusted to be his ears and mouth. Add to that the fact that he’s carrying the weight and expectation of an entire nation that views him as a hero, and you can appreciate the enormous burden that is placed on expatriated ballplayers from our ally in the Pacific.

That got me thinking about Dice-K Matsuzaka, and the struggles he’s endured this season. This being his third year with the Red Sox, one would assume that he would continue to make strides and enjoy more success. To the contrary, this has been his poorest campaign yet, as he’s gone 1-4 in seven starts with a 7.55 ERA and .372 batting average against.

While his 18-3 record and 2.90 ERA were moderately deceptive last year (he had a 5.04 BB/9 ratio, was consistently working into deep counts and seemingly always operating with multiple runners on base), he made big improvements from his rookie season, lowering his batting average against from .246 to .211 while cutting in half the number of homers he allowed (25 to 12).

Which brings us back to the World Baseball Classic this past March, when Dice-K led Japan to a defense of its title by going 3-0 with a 2.45 ERA while routinely pushing the bounds of the established pitch count limits. He contended that the bit of extra work — he threw 14 2/3 innings in the tournament — was not the reason he landed on the disabled list with a tired arm in mid-April, and he may be partly right.

When Dustin Pedroia suffered an oblique strain in the WBC and went through a subsequent slump to begin the season, he talked about how it had been difficult playing in such an emotionally charged environment, with so much at stake, at a time when he was traditionally just resuming everyday baseball activities under the Florida sun.

Fiery and competitive as he is, Pedroia was still just a second baseman on a US team that wasn’t exactly known for bleeding red, white and blue.

Naturally Team USA wanted to win, but let’s not mince words: This side of Cuba, there was no country more emotionally invested in the WBC than Japan. It is their World Cup and Dice-K is their global superstar. After his historic performance on the hill in the inaugural tournament in 2006, the pressure for him to perform honorably and succeed only grew greater.

So although physically and in terms of relative pitches thrown, he may not have overextended himself (like he asserted), there is simply no overstating the psychological toll the WBC took on Dice-K.

Jun 3

NBA Finals Preview

While it was seemingly predetermined that the Lakers would return to the NBA Finals for a second consecutive year and record 30th time overall, the Eastern Conference playoffs ended up leaving in its wake a long trail of what ifs.

What if the baby Bulls had had the chops to knock off the Celtics in the Most Epic First Round Series Ever? Would the Finals be returning to Chicago for the first time since MJ?

What if the Magic hadn’t received a team-altering gut check when the Celtics stormed back in the fourth to take Game 5 in Boston? Would they still have been able to come together and vanquish the champs in Game 7?

What if Lebron had a Ray Allen? Or a Rashard Lewis or Pau Gasol?

And the granddaddy of them all: What if Kevin Garnett had been healthy? If so, would any of the above groups of questions have even been worth asking?

(No, no, and yes.)

As tantalizing and vexing as it is to ponder what might have been, the facts remained that Kevin Garnett wasn’t walking through that door and Mo Williams wasn’t going to be the crucial second banana on a championship team.

Enter Magic, stage right.

Let’s not sell Orlando short. The Celtics and the Lebrons didn’t give it up to Superman and his sidekicks; they had it taken from them. While it’s realistically impossible to beat a pair of champs in the same playoffs, the Magic did essentially that.

They grew up before our eyes after enduring one of the most painful 1-2 punches in playoff history to go down 3-2 to the Celtics. Just when everyone thought it was over, the Magic — trailing in the fourth quarter of Game 6 in their own building — came alive to send the series back to Boston, where they promptly became the first team in history to come back from down 3-2 to beat a Celtics outfit.

Cleveland may not have been the defending champs, but they had fallen only once in 44 games that mattered in their house. Orlando wasn’t given a choice: Either tear down the walls of a building that contained one of the most decisive home courts advantages off all time, or go home.

Make no mistake about it: The visiting team that will be showing up at Staples Center Thursday is not the same squad it was at this time last month. The Magic are as battled-tested and proven as any team making its first Finals appearance in 14 years could be. They won a Game 7 on the toughest home court to win a Game 7 on, then steamrolled a team nobody and their mothers gave them a chance of beating.

At the heart of the matter — and indeed what becomes the determining factor in the majority of playoff series — was favorable matchups. Orlando had them against both the Celtics and Cavaliers.

Versus the Celtics, Paul Pierce had to give up four inches to guard Hedo Turkoglu, and the duo of Big Baby Davis and Brian Scalabrine was borderline comical given their task was to contain Rashard Lewis. Kendrick Perkins put on a clinic of how to defend Dwight Howard (muscle him up chest to chest and force him into running line drive hooks) for five games until Superman got angry at his coach, and that was that.

Against Cleveland, let’s just say as dominant as Lebron was, there was a mismatch of comparably epic proportions on the other side. Howard did the basketball equivalent of eating Zydrunas Ilgauskas for breakfast or stealing Anderson Varejao’s lunch money. And he’s simply a bigger, younger and meaner version of Ben Wallace. Ouch.

How next to nobody saw this coming is a topic for another day. But staying on the topic of matchups, it’s hard for anyone to be so naive to think the Magic will have the same ease operating in their style of play against Los Angeles.

If you could tailor a pair of defenders to man up Turkoglu and Lewis, some version of Lamar Odom and Pau Gasol would emerge. Gasol has the wingspan to interrupt Turkoglu out on the perimeter and the quickness to stay with him on penetration. The scouting report on Odom indicates he’s ideally suited for defending Lewis, in that he’s long and agile, and more than comfortable operating outside of the paint.

It’s more or less a certainty that Howard will give Andrew Bynum some serious on-the-job schooling, but Phil Jackson will not allow him to be so fluid in his dominance. Which is to say you’ll see a lot of the Josh Powells and D.J. Mbengas playing small spurts merely to make life as taxing as can be on Superman.

In addition to matchups, there are two other factors that, depending on the series, can swing an outcome. The first is coaching, an aspect of this Finals that needs little synthesis, considering one guy has nine rings and the other is in uncharted territory.

The second is hunger. As talented as the Lakers were last year, they ran into the hungriest squad this side of the 2004 Red Sox. Playing Garnett, Pierce and the famished Celtics was like running into the proverbial buzzsaw. The Lakers didn’t stand a chance.

Well, as the saying goes, times change. Last year, we didn’t see the hungry, desperate, ferociously competitive Kobe Bryant until the gold medal game in the Olympics. Then we saw him. His teammate now and competitor at the time, Gasol, saw him. Lebron and Carmelo Anthony took note.

This is Kobe’s time, and everyone knows it. A win in the 2009 NBA Finals cements Kobe as one of the handful of greatest players of all time and puts him on the list of most prolific champions. He’ll also tie that fella named Shaq with four rings, one on the solo.

A magical run it has been for Orlando, but it will end at the last possible moment in the least desirable place, at the hands of the Black Mamba.

Lakers in seven.

May 25

Are the Lebrons Overmatched?

For a fleeting moment, it seemed like Lebron James’ buzzer-beater in Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals was going to alter (or restore, depending on how you view it) the future of basketball.

Cleveland would not be heading to Orlando, inexplicable losers of two straight in a building they had gone 43-2 — and essentially 43-1 — in up until this series, their dreams all but doomed. The mammoth “WE ARE ALL WITNESSES” billboard in downtown Cleveland was not going to be suddenly interpreted as a cruel confirmation of another heart-wrenching letdown in the City that Rocks. A 23-point lead, along with the Cavs season, would not evaporate into the air over Lake Erie.

Those things were not meant to be, because in case anyone forgot, the Chosen One was wearing one of the white jerseys with red trim. And He would not allow destiny to be derailed.

It took one ridiculous, high-arcing jay for Lebron to steal back a stolen game. With it, the delicate notion of momentum returned to the Cavaliers side.

Yet less than 48 hours later, the Magic came out in Game 3 and wiped away every bit of that momentum Cleveland had amassed.

And you had to think: Maybe Lebron, who’s averaging nearly 42 points in the series, just isn’t enough.

Is there really any denying that three of the best four players in this tilt are Orlando’s to claim?

Dwight Howard poses huge matchup problems for Cleveland’s either underprepared (Anderson Varejao), overly soft (Zydrunas Ilgauskas) or undersized (Ben Wallace) front line.

Rashard Lewis is a nightmare cover for big men (who he can make follow him outside) or small forwards (who he can post up).

Hedo Turkoglu is 6-10 and does a little of everything, from running point to rebounding to dropping daggers.

On the Cavs, only Mo Williams even belongs in the discussion with Orlando’s top three. And he’s shooting just 32 percent so far in the series.

Add it all up, and it’s fairly easy to understand how close Cleveland is to facing an insurmountable 0-3 deficit.

However, if there is a silver lining to all this, it’s that 1) the league clearly prefers a Lebron-Kobe Finals, and the refs have reflected this preference, and 2) Stan Van Gundy has professed out loud that he has no clue what to do about James, which should be a grave concern for Magic faithful going forward.

More on that point: On three occasions these playoffs Orlando has given up buzzer-beaters — to Andre Iguodala vs. Philadelphia; to Glen Davis vs. the Celtics; and to Lebron. After the two most recent walk-off shots Van Gundy shouldered the blame.

The funny thing is that against Boston, Coach Stan drew up the perfect play — doubling Paul Pierce and impeding his passing lane to Ray Allen — but Pierce had the confidence in Davis to defer to him, and Big Baby had the confidence to knock down the shot. That was championship swagger pure and simple, something that can’t be defensed.

Moving forward to the Lebron shot, for some reason Van Gundy opted not to double team James, and got burned for it. He’s taken the blame for both mishaps, but only really deserved it for the most recent one. Either that Celtics play continues to haunt him or he’s begun to second-guess himself, or a combination of both.

No matter what, there’s little doubt that Van Gundy’s coaching gaffe is the most tangible explanation for Orlando not being up 3-0 in the series, and he knows it. You can bet his team is aware of it as well, and will look to take decisive control of the conference finals with a win in Game 4.

For Cleveland to get back on track and avoid slipping into an imposing 3-1 hole, someone not named Lebron is going to have to step up. We’ve all seen how performances of 49, 35 and 41 from James have netted barely one win for the Cavs.

His supporting cast must make some noise in Game 4, and if it does and Cleveland ties the series at two, all those witnesses will flock back to Quicken Loans Arena for Game 5, believers once again.

If not, Orlando will be poised to prove that Lebron’s magic at the end of Game 2 registered as nothing more than a cheap parlor trick.

May 15

1 Comment

In Game 7s, Mental Toughness Prevails

One more win and it all becomes house money.

One more victory in a seventh and decisive game, and this Celtics squad will have officially logged one of the gutsiest NBA title defenses you’ll ever see from a team unable to go back-to-back.

One more series-clinching triumph on the fabled parquet and the ’09 Celtics will stand proudly next to the ’87 outfit that so nearly and improbably repeated as champions.

While there’s a big difference between falling in the NBA Finals (as the ’87 Celtics did, to the Lakers in six) and the conference finals (as the ’09 Celtics likely will, to the Lebrons), it is undeniably remarkable how these champs have worn the crown.

To date they’ve won seven postseason games with an eight-man rotation. The first guy off the bench has been Brian Scalabrine, Boston’s own Jackie Moon. The energizer is Eddie House, who allegedly only gets extended minutes from his coach when he’s ready to play defense (bet he’s been hearing that one since middle school). And then there’s the x-factor, Stephon Marbury, the guy Doc Rivers once said — to a cascade of jeers — would win his team a playoff game.

As fabulous as the starting five has been (we’ll get to Glen “Big Baby” Davis and the rest of the Fab-Five in a moment), there’s no doubt that the Green stand on the brink of another conference finals appearance thanks in part to the contributions of this unlikely triumvirate coming off the pine.

On more than one occasion in the Orlando series Scalabrine has drained huge shots to give the Celtics life. House’s Game 2 outburst was so decisive and executed with such precision even Jason Bourne would have been impressed.

As for Marbury, well let’s just say Doc’s comments proved prescient. With the season on life support in a building that was already collectively dead, Steph saved the day with his 12-point onslaught in the first six minutes of the fourth quarter of Game 5. When the Celtics and the New Garden were unconscious, Starbury was their epinephrine.

Take a minute to digest all that.

Okay, good.

Now there’s no doubt that trio has helped propel the Celtics to where they are today, but as we know, Game 7s are when the stars must come out and seize the moment.

Orlando can say all it wants, but the fact is the Magic are not adequately prepared for what they’re going to find waiting for them at TD Banknorth Garden come Sunday night.

Dwight Howard was fantastic in Game 6, backed up his talk, but Kendrick Perkins has played him to as close of a stalemate as is possible against an All-NBA first teamer and Defensive Player of the Year. Perk is too strong to be bullied by Superman and possesses a better repertoire of low post moves.

After an electric first-round performance from Boston’s backcourt of Rajon Rondo and Ray Allen, Rondo has been inconsistent and Allen has been nonexistent (save for one go-ahead trey in Game 5) vs. Orlando. The marked edge in guard play the Celtics were supposed to have in this series has still not registered.

If I were Courtney Lee or J.J. Redick — two guys with a combined four years of experience — I would be disconcerted, to say the least, at the prospect of trying to hold down Jesus Shuttlesworth in the biggest game of my life. And I would be downright frightened when taking into account that Allen has misfired on 31 of his 36 three-point attempts this series.

Trying to defend Ray in a long series is like playing Russian roulette: It’s not a matter of if, but when.

Ask any Celtic — considering they are most suited to answer such questions — what it takes to prevail in a Game 7, and they will tell you it’s as much a mental excursion as it is a physical test.

Big Baby has been in a groove since the beginning of the playoffs. Shedding baby steps in favor of a quantum leap, Davis has upped his level of play exponentially in the postseason. However it was in Game 4 that it all came together — the union of the mental and the physical — for Baby.

He came out struggling and picked up an early foul. Early in the second quarter he turned the ball over then committed a dumb foul, which forced Rivers to pull him out. In a sequence partly caught on the television broadcast, Davis proceeded to let out a slew of f-bombs before finding his way to the end of the bench, where he continued to mutter obscenities to himself, utterly incensed.

It’s well known how Kevin Garnett has become the mentor for Davis. Between watching him perform throughout the playoffs and then seeing his tirade after that series of inexcusably poor plays, you started to sense that the man is channeling the exemplar.

Instead of a prolonged emotional breakdown from Baby, he instead directed his anger inward and gathered himself, then came back to hit a go-ahead jumper with 32 seconds remaining before sinking a buzzer-beating dagger for the win that tied the series at two.

Those are the kind of moments that transpire in a drawn out series, moments when one team unleashes a temporary blow that mushrooms into the psychological advantage necessary to snuff out an opponent’s season. In the Chicago series that happened when the Celtics dismantled the Bulls on their home floor in Game 3. The series may have turned epic, but the mental battle turned in favor of the Celtics after that game.

The same can be said of Game 4 of this series. The Magic had it won, had the play they wanted in crunch time, executed it to perfection. Stan Van Gundy correctly decided he was not going to let Paul Pierce beat him. Pierce felt the double team coming and correctly decided to put the fate of HIS team in the hands of someone not named Ray.

Once Baby’s shot fell through the nylon, the mental edge swung back to the Celtics.

It took a second consecutive collapse from Orlando, some infighting and an admirable bounce-back performance in Game 6, but that all merely postponed the inevitable. All that really mattered was the Celtics stole back home court in Game 4, along with a sizable chunk of Orlando’s mojo.

Game 5 was painful, for sure, but I guarantee you when crunch time comes on Sunday and the ante gets upped, that lost opportunity at Amway Arena is going to find its way into the subconscious of the Magic and the champs will pounce on them for the knockout blow.

When it’s all over and the Celtics are giving their postgame press conferences, you won’t have to listen too closely to pick up the gist of their explanation for how and why they improved to 4-0 in Game 7s in the last two years: mental toughness.

It’s then that they will pack up their belongings — along with that mental toughness — and head to Cleveland, where Lebron and a big pot of house money will be awaiting them.

May 8

With Manny, Nothing’s Cut and Dry

I know, it doesn’t look good.

Manny tested positive for a banned substance and is not appealing the automatic 50-game suspension he received as a result.

The statement he issued was opaque and dodgy, which is not a surprise considering it was likely penned by Scott Boras.

The media response has been ferocious, with everyone from hot air extraordinaire Bill Plaschke to revered baseball scribe Jayson Stark sticking their fangs into Manny.

The rest of us, meanwhile, are left to mull over everything that has happened in the last 24 hours and decide if Manny’s a steroid user. I’ve been asked point blank the question a few times in the last day, and my response in each circumstance has been, “I’m not ready to believe that.”

I’m still not, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Despite the suspect “personal health issue”, the peculiarity of the doctor’s Florida location, and the fact that the drug in question is frequently used by steroid users coming off a cycle.

I’m not ready to believe that we can lump Manny in with Steroid Abuser A through Z, because since when was Manny ever lumpable (not sure if that’s a word) with anyone?

The man is a different breed, one of a kind. While that doesn’t exonerate him from present accusations, his situation can’t be sweepingly tied to Palmeiro’s wagging finger or Sosa’s linguistic amnesia.

Could Manny’s statement be a bold face lie? Yes, yes it could.

But be careful not to underestimate Manny’s overly dependent nature. We’re talking about a guy who nearly backed out of a $160 million contract with the Red Sox upon learning that his favorite clubhouse attendant in Cleveland wasn’t ready to uproot himself in order to accompany the slugger to Boston. A guy who on occasion needs to be told how many balls and strikes there are when he’s in the batter’s box.

So is it that far-fetched to think that maybe Manny did actually have a medical problem he wasn’t very proud of and sought treatment outside of the MLB web? That he blindly entrusted a doctor to prescribe him something he assumed would have no ulterior consequences?

The sentiment among baseball people is that’s hogwash. That players have had far too long to adapt to MLB’s drug testing policy and parameters.

They are right, but they’ve also been right about many things in the past that have been applicable to everyone BUT Manny (like for instance, showing up at Spring Training on time, not faking injuries to get a day off, not holding teams hostage over contract negotiations etc.).

They never got through to Manny then, so why suddenly is the SOP (standard operating procedure) for ballplayers relevant to Manny now?

Like it or not, the murky and mercurial Ramirez has always had a double standard applied to him, and that shouldn’t change just because his latest shady act has gotten him bounced for two months.

As I said, I still don’t know what to think. Manny may or may not be guilty of the crime he’s now paying 50 games and over $7 million for.

But if he wants to begin the arduous task of clearing his name and proving his innocence, it’s going to have to begin with a marked deviation from the Manny SOP. Which is to say murkiness is going to have to give way to transparency.

He says he saw a physician for a personal health issue. Who’s the doc? What was the issue?

He claims to have passed “about 15 drug tests over the past five seasons”. Let’s hear more about those.

He issued a written apology to the Dodgers organization and fan base, but has yet to be seen or heard from in the flesh.

Bottom line is Manny must come out of his shell like never before if he’s to stand a chance against an enraged baseball populace.

Until then, I know … it doesn’t look good.

May 1

Celtics-Bulls VI: Battle of the Century

I left my friend’s place after Game 6 of Celtics-Bulls last night, exhausted and in a malaise. My memory of what had just transpired — usually crystal clear — was so clouded and fragmented, my thoughts so blurred, that I had trouble finding a subway station I’ve used countless times.

After making the 30-minute journey back home — during which I must have looked like a zombie to strangers around me — I watched highlights of the game. Actually strike that, highlights of the battle. Because let’s face it, this war of attrition was the closest mind-body struggle between two adversaries one will ever see outside of the ring.

There was Rondo and Hinrich’s undercard. The blood gushing from Pierce’s nose. Ray’s 51 (FIFTY-ONE) on the scorecard. Miller’s revenge. Salmons’ onslaught. Baby’s fadeaway. The ice in Ray’s veins. Pierce’s almost-steal and knockout of the challenger. Noah’s indescribable flurry to stagger the champs. Rose’s KOS (knockout swat).

I watched all this for a second and third time, and tried to gather my thoughts. Wasn’t happening. Tried to sleep. Nope.

I turned on the TV, and what happened to be on HBO? A documentary of the “Thrilla in Manila” between Ali and Frazier. It was an intense and jarring recounting of possibly the greatest fight ever. It was also the only suitable way to give some perspective to a mind-blowing basketball game.

It’s often too easy to get swept up in The Moment, and everyone — from players to media to fans — is predisposed to this phenomenon from time to time. It’s human nature: When we witness something extraordinary, precedents and past-happenings become puny in comparison. Typically though, upon reflection, the grandeur of an amazing occurrence in sports gets reduced once The Moment has passed, nerves have settled, and rational thought has reentered the equation.

Let’s not mince words: Ali-Frazier III has stood the test of time as a seminal moment in sports that will never be matched. Just seeing Frazier, Frazier’s son, Ali’s team, writers and historians chronicling this epic fight, you can sense that wherever they were on that day in 1975, they have remained since in spirit.

For 14 rounds in sweltering heat, two of the world’s finest fighters waged a war that nearly killed them both. There is no more telling quote than from Frazier, who when asked if he would have risked his life to go out for the 15th and final round, said, “Yeah.”

When the documentary ended, it was just after two in the morning, and I was finally lucid. I realized that Ali-Frazier comparisons get thrown around FAR too generously, and that there will never be a sporting event — in boxing or otherwise — than could garner such a comparison.

But as a metaphorical script? That’s a different story. That’s where Celtics-Bulls VI steps in.

Early in the fourth quarter Chicago went on a run, unleashing a series of blows that had the champs staggering (similar to Frazier’s middle-round assault on Ali). The Celtics took the Bulls’ punches, and returned in kind, with a crowd-silencing 18-0 run that turned a 10-point deficit into an 8-point lead (akin to Ali’s blistering sustained attack in rounds 12 to 14).

Naturally there are inconsistencies, no more significant than the fact that the champs lost the game whereas the champ won/survived the fight.

But a series of plays in the last minute of the third overtime truly gave this basketball game the feel of a heavyweight bout — epitomizing the desperate chaos that ensues in the waning seconds of a final round.

With the game tied at 123, Pierce jumped a pass and knocked the ball into the backcourt, seemingly destined for some series-clinching thunder. But he stumbled at midcourt and the ball careened out of bounds, giving it back to the Bulls.

Then, after a defensive stand, Pierce had the ball back in his hands at the top of the key. He went to drive left, and feeling the double team coming, tried to whip a pass to Brian Scalabrine in the corner.

It was then that Joakim Noah let loose the proverbial final combination: First he intercepted the ball and tapped it towards center court. Next he picked it up and dribbled the rest of the floor — trailed by an exhausted Pierce the entire way. By the time Pierce caught up to the rumbling seven-footer, he had thrown down a tremendous flush and drawn the sixth and final foul on the C’s captain. He nailed the free throw to boot, putting the finishing touches on the finishing barrage.

So here we are, six games, seven overtimes and one epic script into a bona fide first-round heavyweight basketball bout.

Game 7 is Saturday in Boston, a game that will double as the most significant affair ever contested at such an early juncture of the never-ending tournament that is the NBA playoffs.

Everyone who’s anyone will be there for the epic finale. Maybe even Kevin Garnett.

And I’m thinking he may not be in a suit.

Apr 24

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Boston Ramblings

Heady times in Boston once again.

The Red Sox and Yankees are set to tango at Fenway in their inaugural ’09 series beginning Friday. The Patriots will be on the clock Saturday, as the 2009 NFL Draft fires up. And once the Celtics take care of the Bulls, both the Green and Bruins will be appearing in their respective conference semifinals for the first time since 1992.

A few thoughts about each…

AM I THE only one yearning for an infusion of hate into Sox-Yanks? Isn’t that what made this whole thing the preeminent ongoing sports drama, way back when?

You ask any Red Sox or Yankees fan what they remember most clearly about the rivalry in recent past — apart from The Comeback — and a Boston fan will say Varitek’s Glove in A-Rod’s Face, while a New York fan will recount Pedro’s Body Slam of Zimmer. These enduring images characterized and defined the rivalry, made it drop-everything, must-see television 19 or 26 times annually. ESPN and Fox salivated all over it. Passionate followers cleared their schedules and did everything they could to score the hottest ticket in town. Casual fans tuned in because, hell, anything could happen. No matter who you were, Red Sox-Yankees always found a way to find you.

Nowadays? The media outlets aren’t nearly as enthralled, which is largely a reflection of popular sentiment. And quite frankly, it’s because they have barely anything to hype. The big storyline going into this weekend surrounds Joba Chamberlain and David Ortiz. Joba, who has thrown at Kevin Youkilis on a few occasions, was called out by Big Papi, if you can even classify it as such. Ortiz basically said that since Joba has shown head-hunting proclivities, he’s going to find it difficult to gain respect throughout the league. (His comments contained almost as much vitriol as a certain drive-by argument…)

Would it be that out of line if Big Papi had said something just a tad more incendiary, to you know, send a message? I for one would love to see Joba hurl some chin music at Ortiz, watch Papi step out of the box and tell Joba to watch his corn-fed behind, then blast one into the center field bleachers.

IT’S PRETTY MUCH impossible to predict what the Patriots will do come draft day, which is why it’s so much fun tossing around various conspiracy theories. Using the last two drafts as indicators, there’s truly no telling what Bill Belichick is up to.

Two years ago, the Randy Moss-to-New England rumors had come and gone before the draft, yet Belichick pulled a cat of out a hat in New York and in came Moss for (even at the time) a laughable fourth-round pick. And a year ago, clearly deviating from his track record of only selecting linemen high in the first round, Belichick traded down from the seventh to tenth overall pick and selected linebacker Jerod Mayo.

While the possibility of Julius Peppers becoming a Patriot has been declared dead for all intents and purposes, it is for that very reason that it could still be alive. When Peter King reports that New England is looking to trade its first-round and a second-round pick to move into the low top 10, but professes to have little idea as to why, the theories are free to fly.

All that’s for sure are the following facts: 1) New England was initially offering a second-round pick for Peppers, which was not enough, 2) Having shored up their secondary (signing Shawn Springs and Leigh Bodden) and running game (Fred Taylor), the outside linebacker position is the Patriots’ only glaring weakness, 3) A low top 10 pick is an excellent bargaining chip, given the caliber of talent available there, as well as the slightly smaller financial obligation necessary to sign the player.

If Peter King doesn’t have a bead on what the Patriots will do, it’s legitimately anyone’s guess. But that’s what makes following Belichick’s moves on draft day so intriguing.

THE CELTICS WERE the champs again on Thursday night in Chicago. After a pair of scintillating games at the Garden that could have gone either way, Paul Pierce took command of Game 3 from the outset and the Celtics defense suffocated the suddenly overmatched Bulls all night.

Even with Kevin Garnett on the bench in a suit, it was a vintage performance from the Green on the defensive end, as they held Chicago to under 41 percent shooting and forced 22 turnovers. For the first time in the series, Pierce played like the best player on the court. And Rajon Rondo, who battled to a stalemate with Derrick Rose in Boston, took decisive control of the point guard showdown, racking up 20 points, 11 rebounds, 6 assists and 5 steals.

This series may still be extended — Chicago was 28-13 at home before Thursday — but for the Bulls, there’s ultimately no recovering from such a colossal beatdown in their own building. Especially against the champs.

I HAVE NEVER written about the Bruins, because 1) I don’t know enough about hockey to throw my weight around, and 2) the Bruins have done nothing but disappoint for a very long time. They infamously blew a 3-1 series lead against Montreal as the No. 1 seed in 2004, then attempted to reverse the script last year as the underdog, before falling to the Habs in seven.

All I remember from last year’s playoffs was how a few choice Boston crackpots decided to beat up visiting Montreal fans leaving the Garden. It was an unnecessary and classless thing to do, though it paled in comparison to the disgraceful act staged by Canadiens fans before Game 3 Monday in Montreal: booing the American national anthem.

It was fitting that the Bruins proceeded to snuff out Montreal’s season with a pair of systematic thrashings, while formalizing a tidy four-game sweep in which Boston outscored the Habs 17-6. I can officially say I’m back on the bandwagon, and am eagerly anticipating the Bruins’ projected second-round matchup with the New York Rangers.

To bring this rambling column full circle: Maybe a little Bruins-Rangers is just what the doctored ordered for a suffering Boston-New York rivalry.

(Unless of course Joba decides to throw one behind Big Papi Friday night.)