2010 MLB Playoff Preview

I have no idea how to watch and follow a playoff baseball team. I grew up in Columbus, so my style as a fan, in all sports, was groomed by college football. Every game is a season changer. The wins are dizzying, the losses devastating. Heaven or horror. In football, you have a week between games to take fluids and balance dopamine levels. By Wednesday the outcome has settled in, the fury has burned off and reason takes back the controls. Saturday afternoons begin anew.

The luxury of time does not exist in baseball. 162 games and they just keep coming. (It’s absurd, really. We need 160+ games to figure out who the best 8 teams are?) There is no time to bathe in a comeback win or wallow in an extra-inning loss because tomorrow’s day game is in 14 hours. You have to hit the reset button every night.

I don’t handle this well. I have already written the Reds 2010 eulogy… in April. I have sent at least 30 “season over” texts and a handful of “I hate the Reds”. My dad and I have evaporated cell phone minutes with conversations on how the ball club has “ruined everything”. On other days, the Reds are the greatest modern professional sporting outfit in the history of the galaxy. I make World Series hotel plans in New York, Texas, Tamp Bay. I will scream “bunt” and “situational hitting” in the heat of passion. And once, I was convinced that the Cincinnati bullpen should invade North Korea.

And the baseball season is long - longer if your team actually wins games. In the past decade, you could check out on the Reds season once the Independence Day fireworks finished. 3 months and you’re out. Meaningful baseball in August? September? OCOTOBER?!? That’s drunk talk. But here we are. It’s like I trained to run the neighborhood 5K and now I am in mile 25 of the Boston Marathon. Everything south of my belly is numb, my nipples are bleeding, I am seeing triple and I desperately need to go to the bathroom but have forgotten how.

Now, the Reds won the title in 1990 and made it to the NLCS in 1995, so you would think I would have some experience. But those years don’t count. In ‘90 I lived in Columbus and my parents had basic cable. I saw the Reds on TV twice until the playoffs rolled around. I listened to them while helping my dad do yard or basement or garage stuff, but I was disconnected. (I was always under silent protest when helping my father. I was a lazy pig of a boy and hated all forms of work. In a related story, I bragged the other day to a friend of mine because I used spackling. I am 33 years old). 1995 does not count either, because that was the summer after my senior year in high school and all I did was drink and act a fool. Baseball is a big boy sport.

So I am a playoff baseball rookie. A novice. I do not know how I am going to consume the Reds playoff games or how they will consume me. Wednesday’s game starts for me at 2pm. Do I take a half day? Should I shower up for the game? Are beers in play? Do I dare watch one of these in public? I am lost. What if Reds win the first 2? Lose the first 2? I don’t know what is worse – the fact that the Reds have to lose 3 times to be eliminated or that they actually have to beat Philly 3 times. I feel ill.

Considering my meager credentials, my playoff prediction should be received with scrutiny and even scorn. Here we go:

NLDS – Cincinnati Reds (NL Central Champ) vs. Philadelphia Phillies (NL East Champ)

Just a nightmare matchup for the Reds. Pitching rules the playoffs, and the Reds are going to face two legitimate hammers in Roy Halladay (who the Reds actually beat 4-3 in June) and Roy Oswalt (historic Red killer who is 0-2, 6.75 vs. Cincy in 2010). The Roys are big time pitchers that are good for 7+ innings, scattering 6 hits. It’s just the way it is. Every AB, every base runner, every chance is precious for the Reds. And while Cincy led the NL in runs, they got fat and bloated lighting up the Astros and Cubs. In the playoffs, teams need to scratch out hits, work walks, attack the base paths, get a couple clutch hits and win 3-2. That’s not how the Reds do things.

Even when the Reds would light the scoreboard up with 8+ runs, the box score would tell a different story. In those games, the Reds would explode with a 5-6 run inning. Except for that crooked number, a lot of zeroes. You don’t get those big innings in the playoffs. I just don’t see how the Reds are going to squeeze runs out of the Phillies. Other than Votto, the Reds have few contact hitters and fewer that will dare try to steal a base. There are a lot of strike outs in the Reds lineup and I fear a parade (starring Phillips, Bruce, Gomes, Stubbs) of slow walks back to the dugout. Easy innings.

Meanwhile, the Reds are wheeling out Edison Volquez in Game 1. I credit Dusty Baker for going with the hot hand, but this is a guy who had Tommy John surgery 14 months ago and was pitching in A ball in SEPTEMBER. And this was not a rehab assignment – he just stunk. How is this man going to respond in the cruel environs of Philly? Game 2 brings Bronson Arroyo, flicking his 80-mph Frisbees at the lefty-heavy Philly lineup. Yikes. I like the Reds bullpen, but not if it has to start warming up in the 4^th inning.

Games 3? 4? 5? I don’t think it matters. The Reds fight the good fight in game 3, down 2-0 in the series, and have a lead late before falling to the eventual 2010 World Series champs.

Phillies in 3

But remember, baseball is for big boys. You have to crawl before you can walk. The Reds have a bunch of young arms and flexibility with their payroll. This team is built to succeed for the next 3-4 years. The Reds are going to take their playoff lumps this October and be stronger for it.

We all will be. Next year, we will prepare ourselves for a 6-month season and pace ourselves accordingly. A 3-game losing streak will not kill us, just like a 5-game winning streak will not cause us to leave our families and follow the Reds like the Grateful Dead. And come April 2011, we will be ready for the marathon. And remember to buy pasties to protect your nipples from chaffing.