PHILADELPHIA -- Somewhere in the muck of Monday's episode of "The Perfect Storm Hits the World Series," the astute Julie Kicklighter texted, "the Trop doesn't look so bad right now."
So true. Almost forgiven is all the noise from the megaboard at Tropicana Field. What could have been a fascinating World Series played by two teams with engaging young players has turned into the worst ever, unless you like baseball sprinkled in with ab machine infomercials and a 46-hour half-inning break.
If the Phillies were going to win, it is a shame that the feeling was iced. For baseball, even perfect telecasts can't save ratings or the majesty of a dramatic World Series, which the sport hasn't had since 2002. Say the Rays were to come back and win it with James Shields and Matt Garza pitching in the Trop we miss, there will be a hanging chad feel to the championship.
And as the winds and the rains and even the snowflakes rattled across Pennsylvania, there was no chance they could move the bottom of the sixth inning to St. Pete, similar to what happened in the 1959 Junior World Series between Gene Mauch's Minneapolis Millers and Preston Gomez's Havana Sugar Kings. The first two games were played in Bloomington, Minn., on Sept. 27-28, but the weather turned so miserable that they moved the rest of the series to Havana, where the Cubans beat Carl Yastrzemski and the Millers in seven games. For those who like domes, that was September.
And remember, folks, next year's World Series is going to be a week later.
What happened enabled those who blame Bud Selig for everything this side of global cooling to somehow blame the commissioner again, but he maintained the game's integrity by insisting it will be concluded, one way or another; you can't end the Super Bowl with a college overtime or end the Stanley Cup Final with a shootout. Credit Joe Maddon for praising the Philadelphia grounds crew, his hotel in Wilmington, Del., the Rays' traveling secretary and players on both teams for making the best of a grungy situation.
When this World Series finally ends, there will be a great deal of discussion about how to avoid this sort of misery. The first will be to figure a way to shorten the schedule. Say the schedule was reduced from 162 to 148 games (records or no records; the Steroids Era made too many baseball records meaningless), then the division series and League Championship Series could be played between Sept. 20 and Oct. 6, with the World Series theoretically completed by mid-October. Granted, the loss of the seven home dates would hit teams' revenue streams, but they'll just have to adjust player salaries; CC Sabathia and Manny Ramirez might have to make ends meet on measly $20M salaries.
In the mid-'90s, several owners went to a Miami Super Bowl and discussed the notion of having a 10-day World Series at a neutral site. They'd have to get local fans to buy into destination and vacation packages. There wouldn't be the feel in Anaheim, San Diego or Los Angeles that there is in New York, Chicago, St. Louis or Boston. But then the Cardinals are the only team since the 2002 Angels to win in front of their home fans. It would be a hard sell, but the notion of a World Series week has some advantages.
May I suggest Punta Mita, Mexico? The Four Seasons would be a perfect headquarters hotel. Anguilla would work.
The World Series is, after all, significant television programming, and the good folks at Fox would love predictability. It's better than the official first dud of the fall TV season, "The Perfect Storm Hits the World Series."
There are a lot of questions that will be weighed after this, the worst World Series in memory. The first? With plummeting television ratings and the collapse of the economy, will the free agent market continue to inflate, or will it cool the market? The impact of this World Series may last right through into January.