Baseball all wet in deciding to wait out rain

Monday, October 04, 1999
Baseball all wet in deciding to wait out rain

BY TIM SULLIVAN
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Groundskeepers try to squeegie water off the field.
(Michael E. Keating photo)
| ZOOM |

MILWAUKEE — The proper move was postponement. Send everyone home and try again tomorrow. Let the Cincinnati Reds determine their fate with dry feet. Let the networks adjust accordingly. Let the playoffs proceed when the rains relented.
Let wisdom triumph over convenience.
But baseball being baseball, Wisconsin's weather being wet, and the National League postseason matchups being predicated on the outcome of the season's last game, the decision was made to sit out the storm. Five hours after the scheduled starting time, the Reds and Milwaukee Brewers were still waiting for clearance to conclude the regular season at County Stadium; still waiting for a weather window sufficiently benign to play ball.
“The weather situation continues to be monitored,” the scoreboard reminded the dwindling throng of soggy spectators. “All efforts will be made to play today's game. Thank you for your patience.”
Reds manager Jack McKeon sat in the dugout during the downpour, watching the New York Mets beat Pittsburgh on the grainy scoreboard screen. Then he wandered down the left-field line to assess the state of the outfield swamp.
“The field's not that bad,” he said. “The (warning) track is.”
This was at 5:10 p.m. Eastern time. Three hours later, the rain was still falling, and McKeon made his way back to the marshes. When the tarp was finally pulled off, at 8:38 p.m., there was enough standing water behind second base for Pokey Reese to perfect his platform diving.
Message: This game would be played come Hell or high water.
Holding pattern
The Mets, unsure whether they had qualified for the playoffs or were obliged to meet the Reds for a one-game play-in game, decided to fly to Cincinnati to await further instructions. The Arizona Diamondbacks, Atlanta Braves and Houston Astros were paralyzed — unsure of the identity of their first-round playoff opponent and the exact date they might expect to start.
In short, a fine mess.
Down behind the dugout, Brett Taylor and Mark Sunderhaus stood patiently, contemplating the prospect of sleeping in their car. The two 18-year-old diehards from Delhi had left Cincinnati long on enthusiasm but short on funds. They were not prepared for the possibility of a postponement, but they refused to head home with the season unresolved.
“We need a win,” Taylor said. “That's all that matters. Then we're going to pack our bags and go to Atlanta.”
Taylor was getting a little ahead of himself here. The Reds needed a victory over Milwaukee to qualify for a one-game playoff with the Mets. The Reds would then need to win that game in order to advance to Atlanta.
November Classic?
Because that best-of-five series is supposed to start Tuesday, the need to get Sunday's game in was acute. Rather than risk upsetting the television networks, baseball would require the Reds to stake their season on a game played in puddles.
Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig has no jurisdiction when it comes to climate, but at least some of Sunday's problems were self-inflicted. In allowing the playoffs to proliferate, with no reduction in the regular season, baseball's biggest games are increasingly at the mercy of Mother Nature. The seventh game of the World Series is now scheduled for Oct. 31. If the postseason is delayed by even one day, the Fall Classic could have its first Mr. November.
The proper move, probably, is to trim the regular season from 162 games to the old standard of 154. Either that or eliminate a round of playoffs. Because either move would result in a reduction of revenue, neither is probable.
If that means playing the biggest game of the season in a monsoon, those are the breaks.
E-mail Tim Sullivan at tsullivan@enquirer.com.
SULLIVAN ARCHIVE