A's don't play ball, they work it

By Art Spander

OAKLAND — Another one of those "tote that barge, lift that bale" situations for the Oakland Athletics, another game that was worked and not played, agonized and not enjoyed.

“Our type of baseball,” said Josh Donaldson.

On Tuesday night, however, that type, the type that drags on when most of the fans have dragged themselves home — and when the announced attendance is 12,969, that doesn’t leave many in the stands — wasn’t successful.

The Texas Rangers got a couple of home runs in the 10th off a star-crossed A’s reliever named Chris Resop, and when this one came to a close, long after every other game in the majors already had done so, 3 hours 43 minutes after the first pitch, the Rangers were 6-5 winners.

Resop was the sixth A’s pitcher. He came in for the 10th, got Lance Berkman to ground out. Then he went 3-0 on Adrian Beltre. It’s like baiting a lion.

“I was just trying to get back in the strike zone,” Resop would say quietly, his right shoulder encased in ice.

The ball stayed there for a blink of an eye, then Beltre, who already had a double and a single in the game, powered it over the center field fence to break a 4-4 tie. After Nelson Cruz was retired, Resop threw another over the plate, and Mitch Moreland, who had hit one out in the fourth off Bartolo Colon, hit one out in the 10th off Resop.

“It’s not what I wanted,” said Resop.

“Rough,” someone sympathized. Resop disagreed. “This is worse than rough,” he said. “This is tough. This is not fun at all. You hate to let the others down. It’s a team game, but at the end of the day, there’s one person who could make the difference. I was trying to be too fine.”

The Swingin’ A’s, they used to call the franchise in a different time. Now it’s the Plodding A’s, the team that turns a sporting event into a seven-act production of Shakespeare. Nothing is easy. Nothing is quick. Nothing is brief.

There was that 19-inning game a couple weeks ago, right here at O.Co Coliseum. Then Tuesday night, when the pace was acceptable, everything slowed and slowed.

The A’s trailed 3-0. The A’s led 4-3. Seven innings had passed. It wasn’t going to be tidy, but at least it would be a win, and in regulation. The A’s needed it. Oh, did the Bay Area need it. The Warriors had lost. The Sharks had lost. The Giants had lost. Saved by the A’s? It was to dream.

The Rangers tied the game in the eighth, and then, boom (Beltre), boom (Moreland), they led by two in the 10th, 6-4, and they held on despite an Oakland run.

Maybe 1,500 fans were left. Maybe 30 or so beat their drums and blew their horns. So few people, so much noise. So little satisfaction.

“(Resop) is just going through a bad stretch,” said Bob Melvin, the A’s manager. Melvin has gone through his own bad stretch.

Last week he was ejected in Cleveland for arguing, correctly, that a ball hit by Oakland’s Adam Rosales was a home run, not a double. Tuesday night he was ejected, incorrectly, for arguing that Daric Barton beat out a grounder to short in the eighth.

“I probably deserved to go,” said Melvin of getting thumbed over the Barton play. “From where I was, I thought he was safe. But he (umpire D.J. Reyburn) got the call right, so I deserved it.”

The A’s have lost seven of nine. Sometimes it’s the hitting, or lack of it. Sometimes it’s the pitching. Or lack of it. When a team rallies from being down 3-0, goes ahead and then squanders a lead and a game, the feelings are mixed.

“We continue to battle,” reminded Melvin, “especially here at home.”

That’s admirable, but moral victories are of little use, especially for a team that was in the playoffs last season and is expected — was expected — to return in 2013.

Josh Donaldson, the A’s third baseman, had four straight hits, including two doubles, before flying out in the 10th. He’s hitting .315. He’s optimistic, not about his numbers but about his team.

“We feel competitive,” said Donaldson. “We’re aggressive. We play hard.”

Unquestionably. Now, if they only could play faster and with less stress.

King Felix rules over A’s

By Art Spander

OAKLAND, Calif.  –-  There’s a reason they call him King Felix. “He can throw any pitch on any count,” said Bob Melvin. He’s the Oakland Athletics' manager. He was in the other dugout Monday night, opening night, a disappointing night for Melvin and the A’s.
    
A losing night.
  
“Opening night,” Melvin reminded, not that anyone needed reminding, “you’re always going to face the other team’s best pitcher.”
   
The Seattle Mariners’ best pitcher. One of baseball’s best pitchers. Felix Hernandez, who’s won an American League Cy Young Award, who last season threw a perfect game, who by anyone’s definition is pure baseball royalty.
   
“Maybe he didn’t have his best velocity,” said Melvin, a former catcher who knows all about pitching and too much about Hernandez, “but he was great.”
   
What Hernandez did was retire the first 10 batters of the game, really of the season, and although Hernandez would allow three hits – one to his former battery mate, John Jaso, whose double in the fourth was end of the no-hitter – the A’s never scored, losing 2-0.
   
An opening day and night without runs from teams by the Bay. Down in Los Angeles, the Giants – the World Series champion Giants, if you will – were blanked by the Dodgers’ Clayton Kershaw, 4-0. A few hours later, up at this end of the state, the A’s, the American League West Champions, were just as ineffective.
  
Two teams, two winning teams from 2012, zero runs.
   
“You always get somebody’s ace,” said Melvin.
    
The A’s similarly had one of their aces pitching, Brett Anderson. He struck out the first four Mariners. He went seven innings. Permitted only four hits and two runs.
   
“You’re going to take seven innings and two runs anytime from your starter,” Melvin insisted. Absolutely. But when your team gets no runs, you’re in trouble.
    
The A’s traded for Jaso in January. So long, Felix. “It’s easier catching him than batting against him,” said Jaso. But he did get that double. He did halt any chance for more perfection.
   
Before the game, Hernandez sent his former catcher a remembrance from the perfect game against Tampa Bay last August, a Rolex watch. Those beauties don’t come cheaply, starting a $5,000 or so and climbing exorbitantly depending on the number of diamonds on the face. Then again, Hernandez signed a $175-million, seven-year contract in January, so he has a bit of spare cash.
  
Someone asked Jaso whether it meant more getting a watch from Hernandez or a hit. “The hit,” he said, not all that seriously. “Then he struck me out.”
  
Hernandez struck out eight in his 7 2/3 innings, walking only one. “He had his stuff,” agreed Jaso. “He was really fun to catch when I was in Seattle. But today, so was Brett.”
 
Anderson is the medical miracle. The lefthander underwent Tommy John surgery in June 2011 and didn’t pitch again until last August. Then he strained an oblique muscle in September and missed more time. But on October 10, with the A’s trailing the Detroit Tigers two games to none in the best-of-five American League Division Series, Anderson, in his first start in six weeks, went six scoreless innings.
   
Monday night, opening night, was the next time Anderson pitched in competition. He liked the way he threw, for the most part. He didn’t like giving up the runs.

“A couple of mistakes,” said Anderson, analyzing the performance. “We had a chance to win it. I walked the leadoff batter (in the fifth). I hate walking people. That was my biggest downfall.”
   
The O.Co Coliseum was a wild place, a sellout – if with an asterisk, because the tarped rows of seats restrict attendance to 36,067 – the fans coming out with their rally towels and high hopes.
    
Where the A’s go from here – no jokes about San Jose – nobody is certain, but they won’t be going up against Hernandez at least for a few days, maybe a few weeks.
    
“We kept feeling we would pull it out,” said Melvin, the 2012 American League manager of the year. “In close games you have to have that feeling. We had it all last year, and it worked. A lot of times, one hit makes the difference.”
    
Hernandez wouldn’t let it work Monday night. The fans could chant “Let’s go Oakland.” The A’s couldn’t get that one hit. The A’s couldn’t get any runs.
    
“Felix is probably as good a pitcher as anyone as getting guys to swing at pitches,” said Melvin. He meant pitches at which they shouldn’t have swung. Pitches which they couldn’t hit.
   
At least when thrown by King Felix, as he threw them Monday night. So disappointing.

A’s Melvin wants winners, even in exhibitions

By Art Spander

PHOENIX – It isn’t as if the final score is inconsequential. The games indeed are exhibitions in the candid description of baseball’s warm-ups.
  
Yet A’s manager Bob Melvin wants players who understand the importance of winning, even at the time of year when it isn’t important.
  
He cares about the thought process, the attempt even more than the result.
   
The idea in exhibitions is to perfect techniques, for the pitcher to work on, say, fastballs to the left side of the plate for a righthander such as Dan Straily, Oakland’s starter Wednesday against San Diego.
    
“Even if they had a lot of lefthander batters in the lineup,” said Straily.
   
In the regular season, it doesn’t matter who does what, just that the team does what it needs to do -- win.
   
In the exhibition season, the individual takes precedence, which is why final scores are so high, Oakland beating San Diego, 11-6.
  
“But,” cautioned Melvin, “I don’t want people who don’t come out in any game and try to win.”
  
It was one of those almost afternoons in the desert, the temperature finally climbing – the first pitch came with the thermometer at a cool 63 degrees – and the balls finally flying.
  
Sure a couple of 80-degree days would be welcome, but as Melvin reminded, “not every night at the Coliseum is warm.”
   
The A’s, as February heads into March, still are trying to get hot with the public. There were those sellout crowds at Oakland at the end of the regular season and the playoffs, but down here, midweek at least, not many seem interested.
  
Attendance Wednesday was 1,867 at 10,000-seat Phoenix Muni.
  
The Athletics continue as the Great Unknown. They were the Cinderella team of 2012, but other than Yoenis Cespedes, the Cuban, star quality is lacking.
   
Players such Jemile Weeks (who led off with a home run in a four-run first), Seth Smith and Josh Reddick are on the cusp of fame. They also are ignored by ESPN and, as Wednesday’s embarrassing crowd indicated, by the fans.
 
Phoenix and Scottsdale – and Mesa – belong to the Giants and Cubs. Even the Dodgers, with their modern complex 25 freeway miles to the west in Glendale, don’t draw like San Francisco and Chicago, well established physically and psychologically.
   
At least, on Friday the Giants come to Phoenix, bringing their cachet – a World Series championship gets attention – and their fans. Better to have a crowd even if it's an opposition crowd.
    
The A’s at the least are building on the field. Only three and a half weeks ago, late for a trade unless Billy Beane is doing the trading, Oakland acquired Jed Lowrie from Houston in exchange for Chris Carter, with a few other individuals tossed in.
   
Lowrie, who was drafted out of Stanford by the Red Sox, then went to the Astros, in theory would play “all over the place” in the infield, according to Beane. On Wednesday, he was at third, and in his first two at-bats had a double and single,  respectively.
  
“He swung the bat well,” confirmed Melvin, “but for me what counts is he can play multiple positions. The ball he made a play on in the first inning was just as important as his offense.”

In his first spring training in Arizona after time in Florida, Lowrie, 28, said he is “just trying to get himself ready to be an everyday guy.”
  
He’s ready. He knows his status.
   
“There are guys here trying to make the team,” Lowrie said, “trying to impress. I’m not in that . . .”
  
The word Lowrie might have chosen is “category.” He’s a starter, a switch hitter, a second baseman, third baseman and shortstop. He’s not a star, but we know how little that seems to matter in Oakland.
   
The A’s, as the cover of their media guide emphasizes in words and a wonderful photo of players celebrating, are the 2012 AL West Champions. And that end-of-September run last year, when they overtook Texas, has gained them respect.
    
Stories about the renaissance have been everywhere. The nothing A’s are now the special A’s. They are being predicted to battle the Angels for the division, just as in the National League the Dodgers are figured to match up against the Giants.
     
Last February, such a suggestion would have seemed absurd, but now it’s expected. Oakland proved it could win.

Bob Melvin doesn’t want his team to forget that, even in exhibition games.

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.