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Monday, October 3, 2005
Demands of postseason not kid stuff
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
In this patron’s search for a whiff of reality, it comes to mind that this Braves team requires a close inspection as they head into the first stage of the Tour de Pennant. Yes, they have won their 14th division championship. Huzzah! Yes, they have been the surprise of the season.
Yes, they have become the darlings of the province with their kids from the neighborhoods.
Yes, they’ve become a product of their scouting bloodhounds and the verdant farm system. When the veterans have fallen on their swords, the kids have stepped up and carried on the fight.
But this is another level, more than a scuffle or a skirmish, this is a kind of war these youngsters have only witnessed before with their dads in the stands, or on television. You realize that during the last days of September, Bobby Cox was merely audititoning for his October roster. But it was nice that his employees had sewed up their share of the loot early. You don’t look good losing, no matter what page of the calendar you’re on.
They come into this critical part of the year with the bullpen unraveling. Frankly, whatever order there was appears to be scrambled now. Are the young’uns really adjusted to the short-order life? What about the starters who will be working on short call? Dan Kolb was supposed to slip right in and answer all of John Smoltz’s old calls. What you’ve seen of Kolb mainly has been fastballs coming in, line drives going out. But the other night you saw him throw two breaking pitches and get two strikeouts. Where has his breaking stuff been? Relief pitchers don’t get by on one pitch.
Coming out of the bullpen, there has been no brighter prospect than Macay McBride, the Georgia farm boy. His road is paved with promise. Left-handed relievers are as precious as a diamond mine.
The starters don’t get off that easy. No one won more than 14 games and each had a sinking spell, except for Jorge Sosa, one of the best deals John Schuerholz will ever make, a steal from Tampa Bay. Tim Hudson didn’t measure up to his billing, and both he and Smoltz settled on No. 14. Mike Hampton became a surgical investment. Horacio Ramirez didn’t trust his own stuff and couldn’t break himself of trying to shave the corners. A lot of astute observers came to agree that the starters all owed the bullpen battalion more than five or six innings a game.
Apparently, the Braves are going into the playoffs against Houston with some pitching unrest. Smoltz, who expected to start the first game, won’t. Cox and staff fear for his shoulder. Hudson will. After Sosa, back to Hudson, I suppose. John Thomson and Ramirez will serve in long relief, duty unaccustomed to them. You don’t tell the kids, Francoeur, Langerhans, McCann and Orr, to sit down and behave, but this is when you turn to the old established firms to set the table. The Joneses, Chipper and Andruw, Rafael Furcal and Marcus Giles are obligated to fire up the offense. Simple as that.
Look at the matchups and you wonder why the Braves couldn’t have drawn the pitiful Padres instead of the pitching-filthy Astros. But wait. During the season the Braves won only one of six games from the Padres. They beat the Astros five of six and swept one four-game series. They beat Andy Pettite and Roy Oswalt once each. They never faced Roger Clemens. But they weren’t trying to get their ticket punched to the World Series then. And the “Our Gang” farm kids hadn’t even hit town yet. This will be their introduction to a kind of pressure they’ve never known. That carries a lot of weight here.
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