THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, October 5, 1994 TAG: 9410050662
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BOB MOLINARO
LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines
The TV screen is dark.
Tuesday was supposed to be the start of the major league baseball playoffs. Instead, we were offered another dose of sitcoms - ``Full House'' in place of a packed house at Yankee Stadium.
The TV screen stares back blankly. But with some imagination, you can look through the glass, past your own reflection, and sense a little of what you may be missing.
Don Mattingly squinting out at the pitcher.
Marge Schott puffing away. Tommy Lasorda rubbing his stomach.
Bunting on the grandstands. Action in the bullpen.
Pitchers blowing on their hands. Flags blowing out at Comiskey Park. Bob Feller throwing the ceremonial first pitch in Cleveland.
Frank Thomas's home run shots. Shots from the centerfield camera. Shots from the blimp. Shots of the players' wives.
A country singer mangling the Star-Spangled Banner. Ted and Jane dozing in their box. The Atlanta Braves trying not to become the Buffalo Bills of baseball.
What we might have seen and experienced is anybody's guess. The mourning process is complicated by the fact that nobody knows how the regular season would have played out if it had been allowed to play out. Or what twists the newly expanded playoffs might have taken.
Can't say for sure, but the first round in the American League could have featured the Yankees and Indians and White Sox and Rangers.
Oh, the fuss the media would have made over Mattingly's first postseason appearance. Television would have had the whole world rooting for Donnie Ballgame.
Stare into the screen, stare real hard, and you can envision what TV's pre-game interview with Mattingly would have been like. An extreme close-up reveals the nervous anticipation on his face, as he says, ``Making the playoffs is what every player dreams about.''
Cut to Yankees manager Buck Showalter, who tells America what a great influence Mattingly is in the clubhouse.
Then back to Mattingly, who says, ``Now that we're here, I'm just trying to focus on what we've got to do and block out all the distractions.''
Those dreaded distractions. Baseball has seen to it that there aren't as many this fall. The women of America should be grateful. Somewhere this week a daredevil could be parachuting into a stadium clutching a baseball.
Players could be tugging at their turtlenecks and spitting on their batting gloves. A color guard could be marching toward center field.
Schottzie 02 could be slobbering for national television, while third-base coaches flashed signs and first-base coaches yawned and managers put one foot on the top step of the dugout and leaned in real hard.
If there were a playoff, the Montreal Expos would almost surely be involved. Tim McCarver or some other glib hair cut would go to great pains to identify the Expos as perhaps baseball's best team.
But the Expos aren't there. Or anywhere. With the playoffs blacked out, America won't know the difference between Moises Alou and Alexi Lalas.
Out of sight, out of mind. It applies to baseball, too.
This week, the Expos could be playing the Reds, with the Dodgers taking on the Braves. Or maybe the Expos would have played the Braves. Who can recall how it might have gone?
Not all of us pretended to understand the wild-card system. Now there is no reason to know or care.
Baseball's postseason has been pre-empted by greed.
Fade to black. by CNB