Baseball’s Frozen Finale

Funny, when one reminisces about World Series pasts, whether played in Boston, Toronto, Cleveland, or Milwaukee, images of players clad in ski masks the likes of that worn by Tiger infielder Placido Polanco do not come to mind.

Old newsreel images from Fall Classics involving teams such as the '59 White Sox, '65 Twins, '71 Pirates are not filled with fans bundled up in winter wear, umpires barking calls with frosted breath, or pitchers constantly blowing on their hands. We remember the '54 Giants/Indians matchup for The Catch, not The Wind off the Lake. Why is that? Has baseball season become too long for its own good?

One reason our first memories of the World Series are not associated with Ol' Man Winter is that before 1969, there were no playoffs in baseball. Teams had 162 games (and prior to 1961, 154) to settle their differences of talent, and the reward for a pair of superlative ballclubs was a league pennant. When the game celebrated its 100th birthday, the first playoff system pitted the winners of the new AL East and West and NL East and West division winners against one another in an easy-to-follow, three-game elimination. Didn't even exhaust an entire pitching staff, much less dugout heaters. Not a mitten to be found in the bullpen.

The three division format of recent vintage, and the wildcard playoff format are both understandable, given the amount of total teams and their geographic disparity. There is, however, no logic behind the length of the exhibition campaign, the 162-game regular season, five-game wildcard round, and seven-game LCS that precedes the World Series.

Somewhere in all that diamond brilliance there is room for cuts. Bob Gibson was scary enough without pitching on Halloween. We've gone from Eddie Yost and Goose Goslin to ghosts and goblins. Throw in playoff rain-outs, and we may know who carries the U.S. Senate before we know who hoists the Series trophy. Such a schedule involves a whole lot of overlap with football, both collegiate and professional.

Besides, who wants to watch the world's best batters struggle to keep warm while swinging at 90 mph fastballs in 40-degree chill? In Sunday night's game, Cardinal centerfielder Jim Edmonds was wearing the kind of jacket under his shirt that one used to only see worn by pitchers on baseball cards. Polanco looks so uncomfortable out there, a reality show should be staged to see if a fan can get him out. Remember poor Luis Sojo several years back, wrapped in swaddling clothes? Yaz never went though this. The FOX on-field broadcast crew looks dressed to analyze a December Packers game.

MLB could trim 12 games from its regular season, cut the wildcard round to best two-of-three, and limit the LCS to five games, and accomplish several things. The regular season would end earlier and compete less with football and other sports. In 150 games, given injuries and days off, standards such as 20 wins, 100 RBI, the .300 average, and 50 stolen bases would not be altered. Modifying the playoff rounds that precede the Series would have the effect of making the last competition special in that only then would there be a best-of-seven. The entire deal would end on a reasonable (and just as importantly, seasonal) October date.

Somehow, baseball seems less itself when the dress code changes too much. It is one thing when an army unit has different dress standards for fair and inclement weather, respectively. It is quite another when a shortstop's agility is compromised by insulated undergarments, or a batter's tendencies by a hesitancy to crisply unite bat to ball with frozen wrists. Wind has always been part of baseball, from Candlestick to Wrigley. Rain has always challenged the planning of pitching rotations, from Puerto Rico to Hawaii. But snow?