It’s September, Your Team’s Out of The Race: What Now?

As a genuine baseball fan, you of course can’t just sign off and wait for next year. But what more can you do? The magic somehow isn’t there when your team no longer has a ‘magic number’, is it?

I am a Milwaukee Brewers fan, born and raised in Wisconsin. I have been a religious fan since I was old enough to focus on a television. For us, this isn’t a question we’ve really thought about in decades. Because for us, this time of year doesn’t normally come in September. No, for us it usually hits about the middle of July, right about the time the Mid Summer Classic is winding down. These are a rough couple of days for us; up until that point, we tell each other tales of ‘young talent’ and ‘potential’ and ‘over achieving’. We still harbor thoughts of competing with the Yankees and Red Sox of the world. But these couple of days, we look at the standings, realize we’re already 15 games back, and it occurs to us that this is actually not going to finally be our year, any more than last year or the one before.

And this is when we remember what baseball really is; a game. It’s fun. It may have, in New York and Boston, been corrupted by the notion that it’s only about championships and winning. We settle in, and remember how to watch a game. For me, the TV goes off then, and I come back and see my old friend Bob Ueker. Any of you who know baseball know who Uke is. Those more casual fans will remember him as the Indians’ announcer in Major League, or from a series of Miller commercials in the 1980’s.

Bob is the play by play announcer for the Brewers, and has been the radio voice of the organization since before I was born. I knew his voice before I could say Uke; my mother used to put me down to naps to his voice on the radio. Apparently, she dreaded night games, as I wouldn’t take a nap without my Uke. So me and Bob go way back. And come July or so, he and I get reacquainted. Year after year after year. My ‘game seat’ moves from the sofa to the back porch; my TV is replaced with a radio. No one bothers me for three hours or so, and if they do, they wait for a commercial. Not that I’d mind, but that just wouldn’t be baseball. My children will often join me, as on occasion will my wife. At times, if I’m particularly loud or obnoxious (which I tend to be) even my neighbors will stop over. It’s baseball as it was meant to be.

I would prefer the Crew won. I will even, at times, be a bit ornery for a while if the blow one. But for the most part, it’s just about relaxing, loving my Brewers (no matter how damn bad we get), and sharing a beer (they call em the Brewers for a reason, dammit.) and a hot summer night with my old friend Bob. And, as October draws near, We talk about this years prospects, ignoring the fact that they will almost assuredly bolt for greener Television markets just as soon as their contracts are up. We relish the crack of the bat on the ball. We cheer appreciatively when Uke takes us through another ‘Charter Communications Double Play’. We root for the Crew to score 7 in the 7th so that Burt Snilpinski up in Hayward can win himself a $10,000 gift card from Menard’s. And when we hear the crack and “Get up…. Get out… Gone!!” We do get up. It’s America’s game because of this; not pennants and rings.

But last year, something changed. For the first time since Harvey’s Wallbangers back in 1982… Paul Molitor, Robin Yount, Rollie Fingers; The Crew was right in the hunt come September. We had Prince Fielder and Ryan Braun and a stable of young studs…. Corey Hart, Billy Hall, J. J. Hardy. We had an actual Yankees style Mercenary, C. C. Sabathia, throwing complete games like they were warmups and shutting down the entire National League as a whole. We had our version of ‘The Game‘, as Braun Hit a home run in the 8th inning and Sabathia closed out for our first playoff clinching game in a quarter of a century. We partied for days. We hugged random people on the street because we both happened to be wearing a Brewers shirt.

It didn’t go much further than that; we were a small stepping stone for the Phillies on their World Series Journey. It was over quickly, almost anticlimactic. It was almost as if we got there and realized we were sorely out of place, and quietly excused ourselves.

2009 was a different year. We were a bit short on pitching, but figured to at least hang around in the respectable areas. And for half a year, we did, juggling first place right up until the all star break. After which our lack of pitching became obvious, and we faded once again. It wasn’t like before; now that we have tasted success, it’s not as easy to accept. The prospects do look good, though. If we can just get some pitching next year, we just might…. but in the meantime, the Crew came back from 6-0 tonight to beat those damn Cards, 12-6. Me and Bob have 3 more games to go.

Maybe next year will be the year. Who knows? But if not… Uke, old buddy… I’ll see ya come July.