Fans Give the A’s a Last Hurrah

By Art Spander

OAKLAND – It was over, but it wasn’t over. Not for the fans, so appreciative, so loud. The Detroit Tigers had won, and were celebrating out there on the A’s mound, on Oakland’s mound. But that didn’t shut down or shut up the fans.
  
“Let’s go Oakland. Let’s go Oakland.’’ The chant kept repeating. Kept reverberating.
   
“Let’s go Oakland.’’ Even though Oakland, the A’s, weren’t going anywhere except to the finish of a season that never will be forgotten.
  
“Let’s go Oakland. Let’s go Oakland.’’ And there went Oakland, there went the A’s, out of the home dugout and onto the field, a last hurrah, a last thank you, waving their hats as the crowd, stubborn, persistent, grateful, waved those yellow rally towels in response.
   
A difficult ending, the Tigers winning 6-0 Thursday in the deciding fifth game of the American League Division Series. Domination by one of the most dominating pitchers in the sport, Justin Verlander, who never gave the A’s a chance. A tough climax to a rewarding season.
   
But in a way a great climax for fans who understood, for fans who wanted to show they understood.
  
“It was great,’’ said Michael Crowley, the A’s president, plopped into a post-game chair in the clubhouse office of equipment chief Steve Vucinich. “And they were all fans of the A’s.’’
   
Absolutely. No traitors in Red Sox or Yankee shirts, who during the regular season turn O.co Coliseum into one of their temporary homes. No Giants partisans who cross the Bay Bridge for the interleague games.

They were all fans of the A’s, all loud, all hopeful, all disappointed, all empathetic.

“They wouldn’t have been doing that in New York or Boston,” said Evan Scribner, who pitched the eighth and ninth for the A’s. No, they wouldn’t have. Not a chance.
   
“These fans are amazing,’’ said Scribner.
   
The word has been overused the last month, an adjective reflecting the surprising run of the A’s as they overtook the Rangers to win the AL West, as they came back from two games down – and two runs down in the ninth on Wednesday – to get equal with the Tigers.
   
They were the miracle workers, the youngest, second-lowest-paid team in the majors, winning games only the faithful dared dream they would win, bringing life to a franchise too long moribund, owned by a man too long determined to move to San Jose.
  
But eventually the slipper becomes a pumpkin. Eventually the miracles run out and a team with a Triple Crown winner, Miguel Cabrera, a team with a Verlander, both an American League MVP and Cy Young winner, a team with a $122-million payroll, more than twice that of the A’s, proves its worth.
    
The longer a series goes, the longer a golf tournament goes, the longer a Super Bowl goes, the greater the odds the favorite will prevail. As in this playoff, which went one game too many for the A’s, Detroit prevailed.
  
How the A’s even got to the fifth game seems remarkable. They had a combined 50 strikeouts – 11 alone Thursday against Verlander – in the five games, an average of 10 a game.
  
They needed that spectacular ninth-inning rally to win Game Four.  
   
They were courageous. They were selfless. They just weren’t quite as good as the Tigers.
  
Oakland, the maligned city, where the police have problems, where the murder rate is high, the blue-collar town with the blue-collar team, the town from which the A’s, the Warriors and maybe even the Raiders want to move, needed this team. This team needed Oakland, needed the whole East Bay, and finally it got it.
   
Suddenly there was hope. Suddenly there was joy. The franchise that in March was supposed to lose 100 games in October got close to winning 100, got close to winning a first-round playoff. That it did not, that it lost, was not lost on the fans, who know the game, who know their team.
  
“We didn’t think it was going to end today,’’ said Bob Melvin, the Oakland manager. “Not for a second.” He’s as special as the club, a Bay Area guy who went to Cal, who used to watch events at the Coliseum.
  
As much as anyone, he grasped the significance of this season of unexpected triumph – and inevitable defeat.
  
“We knew we were going up against a good pitcher,’’ agreed Melvin. “That didn’t mean we didn’t think we were going to win. We’ve gone up against good pitchers this year.
 
“Our crowd was looking for just about anything, a walk, a three-ball count. They were looking for anything to pick us up and try and help us out. We really appreciate it. They stayed there and kind of gave us a curtain call. We really appreciate that. It truly was the 10th man for us.”
  
One man for Detroit was too much for 10 men from Oakland. But that didn’t still the chanting. “Let’s go Oakland. Let’s go Oakland.”

No End to A’s Magic – Or Season

By Art Spander

OAKLAND – Seth Smith said it was nothing but good baseball. It was that – is that – and more.

It’s legerdemain. It’s mystery. It’s triumph conjured up by the most unlikely group of young men this side of Cooperstown.

Most of all, it’s amazing.

There they were, the Oakland Athletics,  three outs from the end of the season. And they were, sprinting around the diamond in unrestrained joy, stunning winners of the game they could not lose, and somehow did not lose.
   
The Detroit Tigers, with their $132-million payroll, were two runs ahead and bringing in super closer Jose Valverde to wrap up the American League Division Series and also wrap up the A’s season. So the rest of us thought.

But not the way the A’s, the $55-million A’s, think.
 
“What it’s done,’’ said Bob Melvin, the magician of a manager about a multiplicity of comebacks, “is give us a sense that we’re never out of it until the last out.”
  
And Wednesday night, that last out never was recorded. Instead, the A’s got a single by Josh Reddick, a double by Josh Donaldson and a single by Smith to tie the game, 3-3, then almost as the sellout crowd of 36,385 sensed it was about to occur, a two-out game-winner by Coco Crisp that sent Smith home to beat the Tigers, 4-3.
  
So, the A’s, destiny’s darlings, after their 15th walkoff victory of a season that even viewed up close seems impossible, have come back from a two-to-none deficit to tie the series at two wins apiece and force a deciding fifth game Thursday night at O.co Coliseum.
  
It was Kirk Gibson in reverse, revenge for a long-ago disappointment, when Gibson came out of the Dodgers dugout in the opener of the 1988 World Series and hit a game-winning home run off the Athletics' then-relief ace, Dennis Eckersley.
  
Different circumstances this time, but a memory is effaced. And another created.
 
“I guess to say the Oakland magic,’’ Smith explained in a calmness belying the moment, “our mentality is just that. I don’t really know how to describe the magic word. But when you go out there and give it your all, more times than not, good results will happen.
  
“Yeah, at some point it’s got to be just good baseball. There’s no magic recipe or anything like that. We go out there, and we play carefree and get the job done.”
   
If in the most dramatic and unsuspecting of ways. The A’s basically couldn’t do anything against numerous Tigers pitchers other than strike out 11 times in eight innings. And Valverde was the guy who was going to finish it off. Except he couldn’t.
  
On Tuesday night, Crisp stole a home run from Prince Fielder, his glove two feet above the fence. On Wednesday night, he helped steal a game, lining a Valverde pitch to right as Smith raced home and everyone else on the A’s raced to swallow Smith in a circle of bodies. This walkoff celebration took place at first, not at home.
   
Moments later, there was Crisp with a face full of whipped cream, the obligatory reward for walkoff heroism, and after that a back and head full of Gatorade, the drink having been dumped on him.
  
“He hits closers,” said Melvin of  Crisp, “and he hits good pitching. He always puts up a great at-bat. We don’t need a homer right there. All we need is a hit. I don’t think there’s anybody we feel better about.”
  
In the postgame interview room, Smith and Crisp sat side-by-side in front of two microphones, and when someone mentioned Melvin’s comment about relying on Crisp, Smith showed mock displeasure.
 
“I don’t know if I should be offended by that or not,” was Smith’s first response. Then he continued, “No, he comes through every time. Or it seems like it in the clutch.”
  
His face wiped clean but his undershirt still damp, Crisp, asked about his performance, fell back on the word now linked to the A’s of 2012, “Amazing.”
   
“Yeah,” Crisp said, “the guys in front of me obviously did a fantastic job of getting on base. Redd (Reddick, obtained from the Red Sox over the winter) came up huge.”
   
He had come to the plate 1-for-13 in the series, with eight strikeouts. “We try to keep his head in the game,” Crisp said. “He’s been battling the whole series. Balls haven’t been falling for him. J.D. (Donaldson) obviously got a bit hit. Smitty's huge hit gave me the opportunity to come up there and do something magical.”
   
Crisp did just that, but as he reminded, he wasn’t alone. He had hits from teammates, great pitching from teammates and, we must admit, a boost from fate.
  
“There’s a confidence,” Melvin insisted. “We’ve done it so many times.”
   
But only one time, this time, when they were three outs from the end of the season.

Newsday (N.Y.): 49ers' Kyle Williams wants to atone for fumbles against Giants

By Art Spander
Special to Newsday

SANTA CLARA, Calif. -- The words from the 49ers' Kyle Williams had a touch of irony. He was talking about Sunday's game against the Giants at Candlestick Park by referencing the teams' NFC Championship Game there last January.

The game in which Williams had two crucial turnovers that helped the Giants win, 20-17, in overtime.

Read the full story here.

Copyright © 2012 Newsday. All rights reserved.

For A's, One Game Changes Everything

By Art Spander

OAKLAND – And so they’re back. Back in Oakland, back in the series. It could have been over for the Athletics, but somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. The season that couldn’t be still is.
  
Because of the way Brett Anderson pitched. Because of the way Coco Crisp soared. Because of the way 37,090 fans screamed, shouted and reminded everyone how loud it can get in the once-silent Oakland Mausoleum.
  
A shutout for Anderson and the relievers, 2-0, over Detroit on Tuesday night. And as we’ve been taught, when the other team doesn’t score, you can’t lose. So after dropping the first two games of this best-of-five American League Division Series, after dropping six straight in the postseason to the Tigers, the A’s didn’t lose.

A remarkable catch by Crisp, who leaped high enough to reach over the centerfield fence some 400 feet from home plate to grab Prince Fielder’s apparent home run.
  
A rebirth by the A’s, who were one defeat from elimination and now, with a certain game Wednesday night and a possible fifth game Thursday, are a mere two games from moving on.
   
That’s the joy of baseball. One game changes everything. Back in Cincinnati, the Giants, awful at home, got one from the Reds, 2-1. Then a few hours later, the A’s followed suit. Gloom by the bay became glee by the bay.

“Well, they pitched and they played a perfect game,’’ said Jim Leyland, the Tigers manager, of the A’s. “Nothing you could do about it. (Anderson) had a good curveball and a very good breaking ball. I think Coco gave them a lot of momentum when he took the home run away . . . I think Coco’s catch really got them into it.”
   
A catch Anderson enjoyed immensely. “It was fun,’’ said the pitcher. “Not to give it up, but to watch it.”
   
Watching is what Anderson had done the past 20 days or so, since incurring a right oblique strain. Who knew what he might do when finally returning to the mound? Well, A’s manager Bob Melvin, a former catcher who had monitored Anderson during bullpen sessions, thought he knew. So did Anderson.
   
“We felt confident that he was simulating (games) enough to go out there and pitch accordingly in a game,’’ said Melvin. “I don’t know how you could expect more than we got out of him tonight.’’
  
What they got was six innings, 80 closely viewed pitches and, after he was about to be relieved having allowed only two hits and struck out six, an argument to be allowed to continue. Which Anderson lost.
  
“He wasn’t aware there was a pitch count,” said Melvin of Anderson. What most A’s fans were aware of is the fact that Anderson had Tommy John elbow surgery and missed 2011. The A’s were taking no extra chances.
 
“Earlier in the game,’’ Melvin agreed, “I don’t think he felt as good as he did later in the game. But 19, 20 days off, we weren’t looking for any more than that.”
 
Indeed, what they were looking for was the victory, and through a combination of fine defense – Yoenis Cespedes made a diving catch in the seventh almost the equal to Crisp’s grab in the second – and just enough offense, a run-scoring single by Cespedes in the first and a home run by Seth Smith in the fifth.
  
Through the three games of the series, the A’s have a cumulative batting average below the infamous Mendoza Line, .198, but they survive.
  
“The first inning was great,” said Melvin, “to be able to score a run and get the fans involved and get some excitement out there.”
   
Oakland doesn’t have a ballpark as impressive as San Francisco's, but it has hardcore fans. When they turn up, as they do in the playoffs, the noise is deafening. Imagine what it might be if those in charge took off the tarps that restrict stadium capacity to under 38,000.
  
“The atmosphere in Detroit,’’ said Leyland, “atmosphere in Oakland. If you look around all the teams have great atmospheres this time of year. (The A’s) played a perfect game. You tip your hat to them.”
  
The question is whether the A’s tipped the balance. So hot after sweeping Texas to win AL West, Oakland was ineffective in Detroit’s Comerica Park. Did the Anderson performance and the victory shift Old Mo, momentum?

“What (Tuesday night does) is gets us to tomorrow,” said Melvin. “We’ll go at in the same fashion as he did tonight. And we’ll go from there.”

They can’t do much else. Then again, the way Anderson pitched and Crisp stole a homer – “I thought I had a hit,’’ sighed Fielder – they didn’t have to do much else.

The season goes on.

A telling loss for the Giants

By Art Spander

SAN FRANCISCO -- One game, but a telling game. A game when the Cincinnati Reds took Matt Cain’s mistakes over the fence. A game when seemingly every time there was a line drive by one of the Giants it was right at someone.

A game when there was a sense of “Dustiny.”

Remember that word? It was coined by a Giants fan back in 2002 when Dusty Baker was the team’s manager and, until the sixth game of the World Series that year, fate was on their side.

Now Dusty is on the other side, managing the Reds, and so is good fortune.

Cincy didn’t win the opener of the National League Division Series, 5-2, Saturday night at AT&T Park because it was lucky. 

The Reds hit two homers off of Cain, who did not give up a run in any postseason game two years ago. The Reds had excellent pitching, especially when starter Johnny Cueto left after one batter because of a back injury. And, yes, the Reds had the breaks.

Cain drove a liner with the bases loaded in the second, but it was caught. Brandon Belt smashed a none-out ball with Hunter Pence on first – and Joey Votto leaped and turned it into a double play. Belt hit one to left in the sixth and Ryan Ludwick made a stumbling catch.

“Our guys never stopped going after the ball,’’ said Cain. “You can’t fault them.’’

Not at all. But this is baseball, and there are no style points. The oldest adage is “hit ’em where they ain’t.’’ The Giants hit ’em where they were.

And Brandon Phillips and Jay Bruce hit them into the seats for the Reds, who now need only two more victories in this best-of-five playoff to move to the League Championship Series.

“This is one game,’’ said Bruce Bochy, the Giants manager, stubbornly fighting any feeling of despair, a feeling that except for rare moments – a home run by Buster Posey, a couple of wild pitches in the bottom of the ninth – seemed to affect the sellout crowd of 43,492.

“We have a lot of baseball left,’’ Bochy tacked on.

Giants fans can only hope. For certain, they have Sunday night’s game by the Bay – perhaps the last home game of the season – and Tuesday night’s at Cincinnati. Nothing else is certain.

Especially after Cain, the guy who threw the perfect game back in June, the guy who started for the National League in the All-Star Game, gave up the shot to Phillips leading off the second. The disbelief was nearly palpable. So was the disappointment.

“He wasn’t as sharp as he normally is out there,’’ Bochy said of Cain. “He left a couple of off-speed pitches out there. He was missing spots a little bit.’’

Something the Giants, so dependent on pitching, couldn’t afford. Not when they were getting shut out until Posey homered in the sixth. That jolted the crowd out of its misery and torpor.

If you don’t count sing-alongs to the Bee Gees – the Bee Gees, for heaven’s sake – Journey and Cab Calloway, the people in the seats did little other than merely occupy them. Maybe the Blue Angels’ flyovers earlier in the day were too much.

Clearly the Reds were too much for the Giants, although Bochy kept offering the could-have, should-have explanations.

“We hit balls hard,’’ said Bochy. That they did, with little result. “I felt we had better at bats than what it looked like. We had a tough night with balls. We didn’t have a lot of things going for us.’’

What they had was 11 men left on base, and that can be credited to Reds pitchers – six different ones, including Cueto who had only eight throws to home plate before hobbling off – as well as the Giants’ inability. San Francisco was 0-for-5 with runners in scoring position.

“We nearly had the tying run on in the ninth,’’ said Bochy. True, but nearly doesn’t mean much. “I’m proud of the guys. We found a way to battle back, and we had two pinch hitters up there, and they got some good swings off. But we came up short.”

In the inning before that, with runners on first and second and two out, Gregor Blanco, playing in his first postseason game and having reached base three times, didn’t get a swing off. He watched a Jonathan Broxton pitch for strike three.

“It looked like a borderline pitch, and they got the call,’’ said Bochy. “Blanco thought it was outside, and it’s a tough break. Sometimes you have a great pitch thrown, and you can’t do anything with it.

“This is one game, and you hate to lose the opener, but these guys have been resilient all year, and it’s time for us to wash this off and be ready to be back at it (Sunday).’’

Nothing else they can do.