http://www.cbssports.com/mlb/story/14879203/bucs-nats-overcome-long-odds-history-to-reach-nlcs
Bucs, Nats overcome long odds, history to reach NLCS
By Larry Dobrow
Special to CBSSports.com
March 30, 2011Tell Larry your opinion!
I was challenged to present a scenario that would place the Pittsburgh Pirates and Washington Nationals in the 2011 playoffs. This is the only conceivable way I can see it going down:
A race for the ages
Every pennant race boasts a rhythm and identity all its own. The Yankees-Red Sox sprint through September 1978 was characterized by hatred -- team vs. team, passionate fan base vs. passionate fan base, most of western civilization vs. self-important northeast dillweeds. The three-way scrape among the Cubs, Pirates and Giants in 1908 became instant legend at a time when news circulated via tin cans and twine. The 1951 tug of war between the Giants and Dodgers gave the game its most transcendent moment, at least until Derek Jeter came along.
James McDonald far surpasses his 9-11 career record entering 2011 to lead the Pirates to a division title. (US Presswire) But in terms of sheer implausibility, there has never been a pennant race like the one that unfolded during 2011. For that, we have the two lowliest organizations in the National League, the Pirates and the Nationals, to thank.
Looking back a few months after the fact, the confluence of events, maneuvers, injuries, luck, coincidence and judicial activism that landed the Pirates and Nationals in the 2011 NLCS seems even more outlandish than it did at the time. Nobody could've foreseen the Nats' reshaping a flawed roster with desperate and brilliant vigor, collecting Scott Boras clients as if they were Pogs. Nobody, especially not the dummyhead statisticians with their stupid dumb PhDs in Advanced Making Stuff Up, believed it was mathematically possible for the Pirates to sustain a team-wide .450 BABIP over the course of a 162-game season.
Yet it happened. Somehow. It did. Yup.
Rebirth in Pittsburgh
The Pirates had the easier route to the NLCS -- ah, but to call it "easy" is to call the oceans merely deep, to call the skies merely high. Coming out of spring training, the under-armed rotation seemed certain to damn the team to its customary basement accommodations. The ceremonial first pitch on opening day augured a whole new sort of misery: Honoree Doug Drabek, introduced as "the 12th-greatest living Pirate, depending on how you feel about Don Slaught," unleashed what's left of his fastball before backup catcher Jason Jaramillo had entered into his crouch. The inevitable result: bruised feelings and pelvises.
But when the first official, non-organ-displacing pitch was thrown, an entirely new team blossomed, one that shared as much in common with the Pirates of 1993-2010 as mud does with happy princess hearts. Given more than a look-see in the rotation, James McDonald emerged as an unlikely ace. Evan Meek tamed his control issues and seized the closer role, spurring a run on "The Meek Shall Inherit the Lead" T-shirts. The Neil Walker/Andrew McCutchen/Pedro Alvarez heart of the order managed to avoid swinging at every other pitch.
The key was teamwork. These Pirates had each other's back. When one guy fell, three others picked him up. They were pro athletes, sure, but mostly they self-identified as dear, dear friends. If winning meant acting macho and practicing the dark art of intimidation, the 2011 Pirates wanted no part of it. Their apocalyptic defense improved with their confidence. Hugs were freely and openly exchanged.
In newly hired skipper Clint Hurdle, they had the perfect you-go-girl! camp counselor for the job. Through it all, he kept the energy high, lending a sympathetic ear and taking the gang out for Fro-Yo after Friday games. For these and other profound feats of encouragement, Hurdle would later receive Manager of the Year honors and a sweet gig hosting Bucs Kids' Klubhouse! on public-access TV.
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Don't think the fans didn't notice. After an August sweep of the Giants lifted the team to 68-50, the Pirates became one of the toughest tickets in town. For the first time since 1996, they sold out contests that didn't feature a pregame REO Speedwagon concert or a postgame fireworks display. They sold out contests that had the audacity to coincide with preseason Steelers games. Baseball was back to stay in the 'Burgh.
Don't make the Nats angry
The Nationals took a different route to the top, one fueled less by friendship and teamwork than by berserker rage. It was unleashed, predictably enough, by helmet-haired feudmeister Tony La Russa.
Tensions between the Nats and the St. Louis Cardinals had bubbled under the surface for months, ever since a spring-training game that featured myriad inside pitches and a Jim Riggleman crack about spaying La Russa's mom. On April 19, the season's first Cards-Nats clash commenced with Chris Carpenter planting a heater in Ian Desmond's ribs, and it was SO on. When the carnage came to a merciful halt, six Cards were hospitalized with ailments ranging from infected tear ducts to punctured spleens, and UFC chieftain Dana White was waving around a contract with Mike Morse's name on it.
From then on, the Nats played with chips on their shoulders and crowbars wedged into their stirrups. When Hanley Ramirez complained about a bang-bang play at first base, he found himself retrieving his teeth from the dirt around the bag shortly thereafter. After Johnny Cueto attempted to reclaim the inside of the plate as his own, he was depantsed, shorn of his chest hair and eyebrows and left on a Dulles baggage carousel. Word got out: The Nats had anger-management issues.
Of course, this new 'tude was great for business, attracting fans who had sworn off sports when Li'l Danny Snyder sold the Redskins to Donald Sterling. The Nats took advantage of the increased revenue, embarking on an acquisition frenzy rarely seen outside New York or Boston. A trade for Boras client Prince Fielder shunted Adam LaRoche into full-time pinch-hitting duty, while deals for Boras-repped starters Jered Weaver and Tommy Hanson shifted Jason Marquis and Livan Hernandez into their proper roles of, respectively, cannon fodder and stay-at-home dad.
The Nats didn't just win games; they left a wide swath of destruction in their wake, prompting California governor Jerry Brown to mobilize the state militia in advance of a three-game set against the Dodgers. When Stephen Strasburg returned in August from Tommy John surgery, his first act was to pistol-whip a 72-year-old clubhouse attendant. Hey, the old guy forgot to pick up Strasburg's favorite brand of Silly Soap. He had it coming.
Lucky breaks
As much as the Nats and Pirates enjoyed outrageous fortune, they were lifted by events outside their control. Perhaps somebody should've suggested to Cole Hamels and Cliff Lee that arm wrestling tends to have an unfortunate effect on one's ulnar collateral ligament. Perhaps somebody should've suggested to Jason Heyward that Habitat For Humanity is a demanding mistress.
John Lannan builds on an 8-8 mark 2010, his first career .500 finish as a full-time starter. (US Presswire) The Brewers were felled by infield defense, the Cards by outfield defense, the Reds by dint of Dusty. The Dodgers and Giants felled each other. The Astros... well, the Astros just played like the Astros.
The Pirates clinched the NL Central on Sept. 20 and celebrated with a rousing chorus of We Are Family. The Nationals clinched the NL East on Sept. 22 and celebrated by firing Evan Longoria's stolen AK-47 into the starless night sky.
Once in a lifetime
As the calendar turned from September to October, the Pirates dispatched the NL West champion Padres in the first round of the playoffs (though they felt just terrible about it). The Nats, in turn, breezed past the wild-card Mets, who faxed over a formal decree of surrender in lieu of facing the Nats and their razor-honed "playoff pickaxes."
Nobody knew what to expect when the renamed-on-the-fly Washington Nunchakus arrived in Pittsburgh for Game 1 of the NLCS, other than much doting on the teams' shared recent history of woe. They hadn't played since July 3; appropriately, they split their eight regular-season contests.
The Pirates took Game 1 behind McDonald, but the Nunchakus claimed the all-important Game 2 when last-minute playoff roster addition Bryce Harper took Meek deep in the bottom of the ninth. (Harper was mostly called up owing to his familiarity with small munitions, but the power didn't hurt.)
And that was that. Back-to-back complete games by Hanson and John "The Lannanator" Lannan gave the Nunchakus a 3-1 lead that they wouldn't relinquish, not even after the Pirates tricked them into participating in a postgame interfaith prayer. Game 5, and the NLCS MVP, belonged to Weaver. The Nunchakus celebrated Christina Aguilera-style, then packed up their stompin' shoes in advance of a World Series date with the Red Sox.
Looking back on the simultaneous rise of the Pirates and Nationals/Nunchakus, some people would say that both teams were the winners. Me, I would say we, the fans, benefited the most. We shan't see the likes of this ever again.
Bucs, Nats overcome long odds, history to reach NLCS
By Larry Dobrow
Special to CBSSports.com
March 30, 2011Tell Larry your opinion!
I was challenged to present a scenario that would place the Pittsburgh Pirates and Washington Nationals in the 2011 playoffs. This is the only conceivable way I can see it going down:
A race for the ages
Every pennant race boasts a rhythm and identity all its own. The Yankees-Red Sox sprint through September 1978 was characterized by hatred -- team vs. team, passionate fan base vs. passionate fan base, most of western civilization vs. self-important northeast dillweeds. The three-way scrape among the Cubs, Pirates and Giants in 1908 became instant legend at a time when news circulated via tin cans and twine. The 1951 tug of war between the Giants and Dodgers gave the game its most transcendent moment, at least until Derek Jeter came along.
Looking back a few months after the fact, the confluence of events, maneuvers, injuries, luck, coincidence and judicial activism that landed the Pirates and Nationals in the 2011 NLCS seems even more outlandish than it did at the time. Nobody could've foreseen the Nats' reshaping a flawed roster with desperate and brilliant vigor, collecting Scott Boras clients as if they were Pogs. Nobody, especially not the dummyhead statisticians with their stupid dumb PhDs in Advanced Making Stuff Up, believed it was mathematically possible for the Pirates to sustain a team-wide .450 BABIP over the course of a 162-game season.
Yet it happened. Somehow. It did. Yup.
Rebirth in Pittsburgh
The Pirates had the easier route to the NLCS -- ah, but to call it "easy" is to call the oceans merely deep, to call the skies merely high. Coming out of spring training, the under-armed rotation seemed certain to damn the team to its customary basement accommodations. The ceremonial first pitch on opening day augured a whole new sort of misery: Honoree Doug Drabek, introduced as "the 12th-greatest living Pirate, depending on how you feel about Don Slaught," unleashed what's left of his fastball before backup catcher Jason Jaramillo had entered into his crouch. The inevitable result: bruised feelings and pelvises.
But when the first official, non-organ-displacing pitch was thrown, an entirely new team blossomed, one that shared as much in common with the Pirates of 1993-2010 as mud does with happy princess hearts. Given more than a look-see in the rotation, James McDonald emerged as an unlikely ace. Evan Meek tamed his control issues and seized the closer role, spurring a run on "The Meek Shall Inherit the Lead" T-shirts. The Neil Walker/Andrew McCutchen/Pedro Alvarez heart of the order managed to avoid swinging at every other pitch.
The key was teamwork. These Pirates had each other's back. When one guy fell, three others picked him up. They were pro athletes, sure, but mostly they self-identified as dear, dear friends. If winning meant acting macho and practicing the dark art of intimidation, the 2011 Pirates wanted no part of it. Their apocalyptic defense improved with their confidence. Hugs were freely and openly exchanged.
In newly hired skipper Clint Hurdle, they had the perfect you-go-girl! camp counselor for the job. Through it all, he kept the energy high, lending a sympathetic ear and taking the gang out for Fro-Yo after Friday games. For these and other profound feats of encouragement, Hurdle would later receive Manager of the Year honors and a sweet gig hosting Bucs Kids' Klubhouse! on public-access TV.
2011 MLB season previewColumn
How wrong can these big & bold, brassy & bossy predictions be, anyway? '11 picks >>
Fact, not opinion. Designed to enlighten, not entertain. Truth, beauty. Power Rankings >>
Don't think the fans didn't notice. After an August sweep of the Giants lifted the team to 68-50, the Pirates became one of the toughest tickets in town. For the first time since 1996, they sold out contests that didn't feature a pregame REO Speedwagon concert or a postgame fireworks display. They sold out contests that had the audacity to coincide with preseason Steelers games. Baseball was back to stay in the 'Burgh.
Don't make the Nats angry
The Nationals took a different route to the top, one fueled less by friendship and teamwork than by berserker rage. It was unleashed, predictably enough, by helmet-haired feudmeister Tony La Russa.
Tensions between the Nats and the St. Louis Cardinals had bubbled under the surface for months, ever since a spring-training game that featured myriad inside pitches and a Jim Riggleman crack about spaying La Russa's mom. On April 19, the season's first Cards-Nats clash commenced with Chris Carpenter planting a heater in Ian Desmond's ribs, and it was SO on. When the carnage came to a merciful halt, six Cards were hospitalized with ailments ranging from infected tear ducts to punctured spleens, and UFC chieftain Dana White was waving around a contract with Mike Morse's name on it.
From then on, the Nats played with chips on their shoulders and crowbars wedged into their stirrups. When Hanley Ramirez complained about a bang-bang play at first base, he found himself retrieving his teeth from the dirt around the bag shortly thereafter. After Johnny Cueto attempted to reclaim the inside of the plate as his own, he was depantsed, shorn of his chest hair and eyebrows and left on a Dulles baggage carousel. Word got out: The Nats had anger-management issues.
Of course, this new 'tude was great for business, attracting fans who had sworn off sports when Li'l Danny Snyder sold the Redskins to Donald Sterling. The Nats took advantage of the increased revenue, embarking on an acquisition frenzy rarely seen outside New York or Boston. A trade for Boras client Prince Fielder shunted Adam LaRoche into full-time pinch-hitting duty, while deals for Boras-repped starters Jered Weaver and Tommy Hanson shifted Jason Marquis and Livan Hernandez into their proper roles of, respectively, cannon fodder and stay-at-home dad.
The Nats didn't just win games; they left a wide swath of destruction in their wake, prompting California governor Jerry Brown to mobilize the state militia in advance of a three-game set against the Dodgers. When Stephen Strasburg returned in August from Tommy John surgery, his first act was to pistol-whip a 72-year-old clubhouse attendant. Hey, the old guy forgot to pick up Strasburg's favorite brand of Silly Soap. He had it coming.
Lucky breaks
As much as the Nats and Pirates enjoyed outrageous fortune, they were lifted by events outside their control. Perhaps somebody should've suggested to Cole Hamels and Cliff Lee that arm wrestling tends to have an unfortunate effect on one's ulnar collateral ligament. Perhaps somebody should've suggested to Jason Heyward that Habitat For Humanity is a demanding mistress.
The Pirates clinched the NL Central on Sept. 20 and celebrated with a rousing chorus of We Are Family. The Nationals clinched the NL East on Sept. 22 and celebrated by firing Evan Longoria's stolen AK-47 into the starless night sky.
Once in a lifetime
As the calendar turned from September to October, the Pirates dispatched the NL West champion Padres in the first round of the playoffs (though they felt just terrible about it). The Nats, in turn, breezed past the wild-card Mets, who faxed over a formal decree of surrender in lieu of facing the Nats and their razor-honed "playoff pickaxes."
Nobody knew what to expect when the renamed-on-the-fly Washington Nunchakus arrived in Pittsburgh for Game 1 of the NLCS, other than much doting on the teams' shared recent history of woe. They hadn't played since July 3; appropriately, they split their eight regular-season contests.
The Pirates took Game 1 behind McDonald, but the Nunchakus claimed the all-important Game 2 when last-minute playoff roster addition Bryce Harper took Meek deep in the bottom of the ninth. (Harper was mostly called up owing to his familiarity with small munitions, but the power didn't hurt.)
And that was that. Back-to-back complete games by Hanson and John "The Lannanator" Lannan gave the Nunchakus a 3-1 lead that they wouldn't relinquish, not even after the Pirates tricked them into participating in a postgame interfaith prayer. Game 5, and the NLCS MVP, belonged to Weaver. The Nunchakus celebrated Christina Aguilera-style, then packed up their stompin' shoes in advance of a World Series date with the Red Sox.
Looking back on the simultaneous rise of the Pirates and Nationals/Nunchakus, some people would say that both teams were the winners. Me, I would say we, the fans, benefited the most. We shan't see the likes of this ever again.
