Wednesday night was Game 1 of the 2011 World Series and the minds of most sports fans hovered over one of the following thoughts:
- Will Carson Palmer start at quarterback for the Oakland Raiders this weekend?
- Is anyone really surprised that Rex Grossman got benched?
- I wonder how awesome Tim Tebow will be this weekend.*
- I wonder how much Tim Tebow will suck this weekend.**
- I wonder if I'm going to see that hot chick in the Eagles jersey at the bar again this weekend…
- Could I ever actually date an Eagles fan?
* fans in Denver
** fans everywhere else
Wait, what?
This is the World Series we're talking about. The culmination of a 162-game dogfight in which the best last two teams remaining go head-to-head in a best-of-seven battle and all fans want is more football?
Something is wrong with this.
Obviously, football's popularity has dwarfed that of baseball over the last decade and a half in the United States. This cannot be denied. But nevertheless, I cannot remember the last time I was less excited about a World Series (besides 2010, and 2009, and 2008 ... you get the point).
Yes, one factor is that the two teams playing are not "mine." However, I have grown up a diehard Cubs fan so, by that logic, I would have never cared about any World Series (cut to Louie crying in his shower like Tobias Funke on "Arrested Development"). That argument simply doesn't stand up.
I remember forcing my mom to buy me a foam tomahawk in 1991 because I couldn't wait to see Ron Gant, Dave Justice, or Fred McGriff clear the bases again. I remember jumping up and down almost as ridiculously as Joe Carter did when that sinking line-drive off of Mitch Williams disappeared beyond the left-field wall in the SkyDome in '93. Hell, I remember saying a prayer for Byung-Hyung Kim after he served up his 28th consecutive home run ball to the New York Yankees in 2001 (note: that number may be a little low).
To be honest, the last World Series I remember truly looking forward to dates all the way back to 2002, when Bionic Barry Bonds took on the Anaheim Angels by himself. Steroids aside, that was an exciting series. It had grit (David Eckstein), courage (Troy Percival), despair (Robb Nen), and a villain (Bonds). It had the perfect mixture of drama.
Gene Wojciechowski wrote a compelling article on ESPN.com offering suggestions to "fix" the Series. His ideas are all fodder for conversation, but could anything really repair the World Series?
I don't think so.
In my opinion, the World Series is not broken, the rest of the Major League Baseball season is. The reason that MLB playoffs were so enthralling for decades upon decades was that it was a rare commodity. It was nothing like regular season. All games were televised. The American League could play against the National League. And you were guaranteed that two of the best four teams would get what they deserved — a chance to go down in history.
Modern baseball has watered this down. For one, every game is now televised for every team all season. It's simply not that exciting to say that all the games will be on (especially when Joe Buck seems to announce literally 100% of nationally-televised events).
Secondly, interleague play has destroyed the mystique of AL vs. NL. I sometimes feel like the only person who still considers the two leagues to be separate entities. That's because, at this point, they really are not.
Third — and something I do not expect many to agree with — division realignment in 1993 was tragic in a way that many true fans do not quite notice. It almost entirely trivialized the 162-game journey teams took to get to the finish line. Over the course of that many games, a winning team needs to have a solid rotation, stingy defense, and a consistent lineup (e.g. 2011 Phillies, any Atlanta Braves team in the '90s).
However, in order to win during the playoffs, a team needs one (maybe two) good hot starter(s), a little bit of luck, and one dominant hot hitter (ladies and gentlemen, your 2011 St. Louis Cardinals). That's all. The formula for getting to the playoffs and getting through the playoffs is totally different. This is like taking a few of the top finishers in a marathon and then asking them to immediately run a 100-yard dash in order to claim the prize money.
It's no wonder that the highest-rated game from last year's World Series earned a 9-point Nielsen share (compare this to the 8 share earned by Game 6 of the 2011 Stanley Cup Finals and the [are you kidding me?] 71 share earned by the 2011 Super Bowl). To put it into perspective, the lowest-rated World Series game between 1984 and 2001 was a 9.4 — still higher than last year's most watched game.
Thus, in order to bring allure back to America's Pastime, the problem must be nipped in the bud (and drastically):
1) 154-game season.
2) No more interleague play.
3) Revive AL West/East and NL West/East as the only divisions (which would require the addition of a salary cap and major luxury tax fines against teams that go over).
4) Eliminate the best-of-five ALDS/NLDS (where 116-win seasons go to die).
5) Kindly (or not so kindly) ask Joe Buck to leave the premises.
Fans will then see the most deserving teams, most compelling players, and most competitive games.
I know that money won't allow it (lose the revenue of an entire series?) and that fans would never have it, but if baseball ever wants another memorable Fall Classic, it's time to look back at how things used to be before the wheel was reinvented.
October 22, 2011
Andrew Jones:
Nice article. I think my thoughts about sports this week centered more around “Will my Facebook friends every shut up about the Cardinals?” But maybe I just know too many people in St. Louis.
You’re right that the AL and NL are not different, but they are still more different that any two conferences or divisions in any other sport. I think the changes in 1993 tried to propel baseball to be more like the other major sports while forgetting baseball is the only sport where the most important player in a given game, only plays every five days.
If they really wanted to be like the NFL, why not play one game every five days and get rid of this series nonsense? Honestly, that might be more exciting. And I think more people would watch if it were a Verlander vs. Halladay type match up every playoff game. I know I would. But losing the revenue of up to six games by getting rid of series play is also unthinkable.
I like your five suggestions. I don’t think 154 games is necessary, but not problematic for me at all. The others (especially number 5) are most certainly wise.