Where the Sidewalk Ends

So this is how it ends for the Brewers in 2007: a sea of half-hearted homer hanky-waving fans at Miller Park looking on as the good guys once again left way too many guys on base and couldn't get reliable pitching when it mattered most. Of Sheets warming up in the bullpen but not entering the game, of hoping Kevin Mench comes through in the clutch. The sense of inevitability was palpable, on TV, in my house, even in Ueck's voice.

My night watching the game was a microcosm of the year in general.

A great start. Braun drives in Weeks! Good base running by JJ! Hart with a clutch hit! Off Maddux! Capuano's looking pretty good! As the first inning ends, Will says "Game's over, Daddy." Not quite, but I'd take it!

Then, big struggle in the middle. Cappy can't get anyone out. This is going to be the 117th game in a row the Brewers lose when he pitches.

Then, the lead relinquished. At about this time, I gave Will his bath and continued reading to him from Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends. As I laid him down the book's title seemed appropriate given the game I was about to return to. (No, last night was not The Giving Tree night for the boy, although it was for the Brewers.) The season seemed over, sadly. The eulogy began writing itself in my mind.

But then, as leaving the room, Will said "Daddy, leave the door open a little bit." Yes! Another perfectly-timed optimistic reference! This will be a great anecdote to tell the guys when we're downing drinks and celebrating another in the long line of once-every-25 years glory of Milwaukee baseball! We will take "Leave the Door Open" signs to games! Billy Hall will record a rap song of that name!

On TV, we load the bases on some guy named Cla, down one. Here comes Counsell, homegrown World Series hero - the door is still open! Then bam - double play. Bam - the Guy Who Looks Like Spicoli goes yard (silver lining - for my fantasy team!). Bam - Heath Bell and Hell's Bells strike our guys out like overmatched Little Leaguers. False hope dashed.

Game over. Season over.

Here's my plan: institute a reversal of the 24-hour rule most football coaches give their teams after a big win. Wallow in sorrow and self-pity for one day, then go about finding all the good things about this team and this season. Let's get that 82nd win, at least get that monkey off our back.

First things first: congratulations to the Cubs. It would be dishonest to give one of those "Keep the World Series trophy in the NL Central" lines, because none of us want that. Whether it's a quick sweep or a tantalizing, agonizing, Bartman-esque defeat, just lose, baby. But the best team won the division. Even with their flaws, the Cubs had a little bit better hitting and starting pitching, much better relief pitching and fielding. And, importantly, much more money.

But that's what's so great about baseball. Over the course of a 162-game season, flukes don't last, flaws are exposed, the cream rises to the top. And there's plenty of reason to believe that the Brewers will be that cream next year and in years to come. They will have to find a way to overcome the market disparity between Milwaukee and Chicago (presumably with a new deep-pocketed owner) when financing the team. Minnesota and Oakland did it well, why can't we?

Just looked at a Shel Silverstein site and saw a couple more titles that could apply to the Brewers: The Missing Piece (relief pitching?), Falling Up (our rise has coincided with a fall-off in the rest of the NL Central), A Light in the Attic (five years ago, the Brewers didn't have electricity, period).

Hopefully a year from now I'll be reading Will not Silverstein, but Haudricourt and Hunt chronicling a pennant winner. That would help erase the sting of a year the door was open, but we couldn't walk through it.