The long ride for these Marlins began here on April Fool’s Day against the Cubs, a speed bump. Edgar Renteria bunted toward third base that shiny afternoon, the ball rolled untouched through the infield, and he wound up with a double.
You sort of figured then that it might not be the year of the Cubs, a safe assumption, any day, any summer.
What you did not know was what to make of the Marlins, a quintessential team for the ’90s, built on a spending binge and designed to provide instant gratification.
The bottom line was reached Monday morning. Renteria, a deft shortstop by way of Colombia and the Kane County Cougars, singled in the 11th inning to bring Florida its IOU World Series championship.
If NBC prayed for a sprint, the network instead got a marathon. Apologies to Don Ohlmeyer and company, but this tournament wasn’t that dull after all, was it?
NBC’s beloved Olympics should only be as taut as Game 7, won by the Marlins 3-2 just as the star-crossed Cleveland Indians seemed so ready to end the suffering. Their city deserved better, but let it be said that though the Indians didn’t prevail, they persevered.
The Indians lost the opener in all three of their playoff series, to the New York Yankees, Baltimore Orioles and these Marlins. And on a balmy South Florida evening when two teams with combined payrolls in excess of $100 million fought a war of high finance, the star for a while was Jaret Wright, Cleveland’s $150,000-a-year rookie.
He was worth the wait, and everybody waited a bit longer than anticipated, because NBC was nursing king football to a delayed finish. Imagine that. Game 7 of the Fall Classic, held hostage by a regular-season football game.
When television said it was OK to start, Wright did on short rest, and he took a 2-0 lead into the seventh inning, by which time the frenzy at Pro Player Stadium had been downsized to a funk. The Marlins and their ace, Kevin Brown, were victims of Cleveland’s clinic in Game 6. Now this.
To those of us from Chicago with a neutral interest each October, it seemed like the right time for the Indians. Before the franchise was born again with the 1995 pennant, there had been only three previous, and we’re not talking current events.
The 1920 Indians played the Dodgers, who don’t live in Brooklyn anymore. The 1948 Indians of Lou Boudreau met the Boston Braves, who have moved twice since. The 1954 Indians were swept by the New York Giants, also relocated.
On a turn-back-the-clock weekend, the Indians and their loyal fans were the emotional favorites, if nothing else, against upstart Florida. But Bobby Bonilla homered to halve Cleveland’s lead to 2-1, and then the Indians’ bid for an insurance run was ambushed at the plate.
When Craig Counsell of South Bend, Ind., tied it 2-2 with a bullet sacrifice fly in the ninth, you felt a knot in your stomach for the poor Indians. Some teams, like the aforementioned Cubs, get dishonorable discharges from pennant races in May. But this was no way to go, either.
Florida rallied nicely to win Game 3 at the North Pole, but the Indians’ heart made the crescendo possible. If the drama of Game 7 was the defining Series moment, it only was because baseball got permission to play on Sunday instead of king football.
The Miami Dolphins, who were here first, were supposed to play the Cubs of winter. That fray will take place here Monday night and an hour after the Marlins’ gala, there was no problem with the field. The Bears only use half of it, anyway.
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