On Guards!

The first time Cleveland went to the World Series? They were known as the Indians. And they won.

They edged to the 1920 pennant as the White Sox collapsed in the immediate wake of the Eight Men Out's being suspended upon the Black Sox revelations. Then, they beat the Brooklyn Robins — your future Dodgers — in six games. (On the same day as the Series clinching game, ground for the Holland Tunnel joining New York to New Jersey was broken under the Hudson River. And, Man o'War, 1920's Preakness Stakes and Belmont Stakes winner, beat 1919 Triple Crown winner Sir Barton in a match race in Ontario.)

The next time Cleveland went to the World Series? Still the Indians, and winning once again.

This time, they beat the Boston Braves, also in six games. Those Indians had a few Hall of Famers (Lou Boudreau, Larry Doby, Bob Feller, Bob Lemon, Satchel Paige) one of whom (Feller) provided a hand-held World War II spyglass with which he'd come home from World War II for through-the-scoreboard sign-stealing subterfuge down the stretch.

The next time Cleveland went to the World Series? Still the Indians. Burying the American League thoroughly in 1954.

So thoroughly that the usually triumphant Yankees could win 103 games and finish ... second. As if to prove too decisively that no good deed remains unpunished, they were flattened in four straight by the New York Giants, a massacre that only began with a kid named Willie Mays and a certain play next to the Polo Grounds' deep center field wall.

The next time Cleveland went to the World Series? It took slightly over four decades.

1995: A heartbreak loss to another team of Braves, this time roosted in Atlanta. Two years later: A worse heartbreak loss, off the bat of Edgar Renteria, swinging for a team barely entering kindergarten and destined to be dismantled posthaste, by their brain-frozen owner, before the champagne was barely washed from their hair.

The next time Cleveland went to the World Series? It took a sliver over two decades. Still the Indians.

They had the pleasure of tangling with another star-crossed team, out of Chicago. They had the 3-2 Series advantage. Those Cubs said, well, they have us right where we want them . . . and won the next pair, not without a lot of back-and-forth and wrestling. (And, one karmic Game 7 rain delay.)

Now, they are in their third year of life as the Guardians. They are about to begin an American League Championship Series against the Yankees, whose ancestors came up so short against them for the pennant exactly sixty years previous. And I find myself in an uncomfortable position.

You see, I have been a Met fan since the day they were born. The Mets are about to play the Dodgers in the National League Championship Series. Wouldn't I just love to see the Mets elbow, shove, bop, wrestle, and shiv their way past the Dodgers to reach this Series? Of course I would.

The Mets haven't won a Series in 38 years. That's slightly more than half the time since the last Cleveland Series conquest. I have seen the Mets win two Series. I've also seen my Red Sox (fan since the 1967 pennant race) win four Series in this century. I've seen the Cubs finish a 108-year rebuilding effort with a Series win — against a team of Indians one of whom now co-leads the Mets in postseason field and batting mayhem. I've even seen Washington win its first non-Negro Leagues World Series since Calvin Coolidge had to finish Warren G. Harding's term in the White House.

Far as I'm concerned, everyone else can just hurry up and wait a little longer. I don't want my Mets to lose. But I don't want the Guardians to lose, either.

The Guardians have been just as star crossed if not more so since 1954. You think being a Cub, a Red Sox, a Met, or a Dodger could be excercises in extraterrestrial heartache? (And, headaches?)

Ask any Cleveland fan about such curses as Rocky Colavito (traded as spring training 1960 was about to end) or disasters such as illness (physical and otherwise), injuries, or both, to such promising sprouts such as Max Alvis, Larry Brown, Tony Horton, Ray Fosse, and 1980 Rookie of the Year Super Joe Charboneau.

Ask any Cleveland fan about Ten-Cent Beer Night in ancient Municipal Stadium in 1994. (Also known as the Mistake on the Lake in the Mistake on the Lake.)

Ask any Cleveland fan what really happened to the team's first major free agency pitching signing, Wayne Garland, after he signed a 10-year contract in 1977. (Answer: He injured his arm in his first spring training game, pitched through the injury anyway to prove he was worth his deal, but never regained the form that made him attractive to the team in the first place.)

Ask any Cleveland fan why the former Tribe lost future Hall of Fame pitcher Dennis Eckersley to a spring training 1978 trade. (Answer: a teammate having an affair with his wife.)

Ask any Cleveland fan about the year Sports Illustrated predicted they'd win the 1987 American League pennant . . . but went forth to finish dead last with 101 losses.

Ask any Cleveland fan about spring 1993. 1) Their new spring training home in Homestead, Florida was flattened by Hurricane Andrew. 2) They moved spring training to Winter Haven. 3) Relief pitchers Tim Crews and Steve Olin killed, and starter Bob Ojeda left alive with head injuries and long therapy to follow, when a legally-inebriated Crews drove his boat right into a Little Lake Nellie dock.

Ask any Cleveland fan if they've recovered from relief multi-instrumentalist Andrew Miller finally running out of fuel in Game 7 of that 2016 Series, then having one more stellar season in him despite a bad knee only to see the team fall to the Yankees in the 2017 division series.

It took five hard-played division series games and a Game 5 dispatching of the Tigers' best pitcher for the Guards to get to this ALCS in the first place. The exclamation point came from a guy acquired from the Nationals at the trade deadline. Lane Thomas went from the barely-known soldier to the man of the hour in the Game 5 fifth when, with the bases loaded, he sent Tarik Skubal's first pitch into the left field seats.

Now the Guards face the Yankees with key elements at full power. The side of Steven Kwan that suggested greatness has shown up thus far. José Ramírez, maybe the least appreciated superstar in baseball outside his home turf, is doing José Ramírez things. The Guards' bullpen, maybe the best in the AL this season, suffers no fools gladly. Even those wearing Yankee uniforms.

These are the two best in the AL setting up to square off for the pennant. Almost like ancient times.

But I'll put up with the usual hemming, hawing, gnashing, bellyaching, and execution demands from Yankee fans drunk deep of fractured entitlement (yes, they still think no World Series is legitimate without the Yankees in it) in order to see these Guards — perhaps the most star-crossed of this year's LCS entrants and certainly one of the most star-crossed in major league history — come out of the coming skirmish with a World Series date and triumph.

Even if it might be against my Mets. (And it might be.) But I may sacrifice even that to see the stars uncrossed for Cleveland for once. Maybe.