Last night, I read John Donovan’s piece on the 2006 baseball season on Yahoo! Sports and he mentioned in his piece that no one (not even me) expected the Detroit Tigers to win the American League Central let known finish with the best record in baseball.
That was supposed to be the Chicago White Sox or the Minnesota Twins, with the Cleveland Indians making the Sox’s and Twins’ lives miserable during the season.
Florida, with its small fan base, rookie manager, and a group of kids who are pretty much close to my age (21), was supposed to lose 100 games and threaten the infamous record of losses in a season the same way that Detroit threatened it three years ago.
Not fight for the NL Wild Card.
Freddy Sanchez was not supposed to be a batting champion in his second full season in Pittsburgh.
But contiune to learn the pitchers while he got more playing time.
Ryan Howard was not supposed to hit 60 homers (he’s still on 58 as I write this) in just his second season with the Phillies.
And former Redbird outfielder, Chris Duncan was not supposed to hit 21 homers with 42 RBIs along with a .304 batting average.
None of this was supposed to happen.
What should have happened was that Marlins were going to lose 102 or so games, lose money, and move to Oklahoma City/Charlotte/or some other city that would embrace them with open arms.
Although I haven’t seen that much of Pittsburgh on television, I know for a fact a second-year player in the majors don’t get a chance to lead the National League in bating average for a perennial loser let known be considered for a Rookie of the Year award.
And definitely a guy that just began playing last year and earned the National League Rookie of the Year in 2005 isn’t supposed to hit a possible 60 homers in only his second year.
A team that hadn’t finished above .500 since 1993 is not supposed to go out and beat up on the competition.
And not supposed to, if I might add, put a scare into the defending world champions.
Nor they are supposed to finish with the best record in the American League or even the majors for that matter.
A guy who a year ago was playing down here in Memphis and hit the final home run in the history of Busch Stadium was not supposed to hit 21 homers and be a sparkplug for the Cardinals during their playoff push.
He was supposed to be playing before 12,000 fans, wiping his face in a towel because of the sweltering Memphis summers, and making enough money a month to spend on a night on the town with a few friends.
A centerfielder who hadn’t played in a month was not supposed to hit a pinch-hit homer to tie a game.
He was supposed to take his hacks at the plate, strike out, and sit down on the bench and watch his team push for a playoff berth.
An aspiring sportswriter was not supposed to become smitten by a chocolate cutie at the corner of South Third and Union Avenue nor become a legend of sorts.
I was supposed to be going with a girl he met in a campus bookstore, a girl that I took down to the ballpark two days after Valentine Day and start something big with her.
The summer that it was for me was supposed to be a dream, not something that would turn into a book idea that I found out was accepted by an out-of-town publisher yesterday morning when I checked my email.
Not something that would also become a part of Memphis professional baseball history.
But after what happened this season, none of those doubts nor shocked surprises seem to matter anymore to me.
Because as I said yesterday, anything can happen in baseball.
If you believe enough.
