I've wanted to write this column ever since the Johan Santana bonanza went down.
While we're on the subject, I can think of no other insanely exciting sports rumor ending on such an anticlimactic note. He went to the Mets: far, far away from the Yankees-Red Sox clusterf--k that the entire Northeast is infatuated with. Sure, he went to a great team that is also in the biggest market in baseball, but he isn't stepping into the Batman signal-sized spotlight that exists in the biggest rivalry in baseball.
When I heard Johan was heading to Queens, I kind of felt like my dad after the Y2K freak-out. I read the crackpot theorists, bought 300 rolls of duct tape and 20 cans of powdered milk, and accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior only to have nothing happen except the ball drop. It was like the Clinton sex scandal ending because we found out Bill merely grabbed Monica's ass. I was expecting either tears of joy or ecstasy, not a lousy shoulder shrug.
Don't get me wrong; I was Christmas morning-happy that Johan wasn't going to the Red Sox. The thought of Johan and Beckett pitching four or five games of a seven-game series made me pee a little. But I was greedy. I wanted Johan for myself. Which brings me to my point.
I wanted him for one reason and one reason only. The single most valuable, important and priceless position in baseball isn't the shortstop, catcher, centerfielder or closer. No, sir. The most important position in the sport is the No. 1 slot in the rotation. It's the ace, the stopper, the big arm, the dude who can make professional big leaguers look silly.
There is nothing more valuable than the pitcher who, with his best stuff, is damn near unhittable. I'm not talking about 20-game winners, workhorses, innings eaters or simply All-Stars. I'm talking about that rare breed with the ability to totally dominate. I'm talking about guys who have days where the opposing team shouldn't even bother showing up to the ballpark.
It's clear that nastiest pitchers in the league are valuable. But what I have been screaming at my friends about, ever since Josh Beckett won the Red Sox their second World Series in the last four years, is how valuable these guys are in the postseason.
The playoffs in all sports are pretty much crap shoots. I'd say that the "best" team wins the championship somewhere around a third of the time. My favorite example is the 2006 Cardinals. They were in no way the best team in the National League in 2006 - they arguably weren't even the best team in their division. But they caught some breaks and got some great performances out of Chris Carpenter.
See, the best-of-five and best-of-seven formats immensely increase the value of guys like Carpenter. I know it's taken me a while to get here, but what I'm trying to say is this: There is no other position on the field that can singlehandedly win a series. If A-Rod hits four homers and bats .400 in the ALCS, sure, he greatly increases the chances that the Yankees will win that series. But if Josh Beckett starts Games 1, 4 and 7 of that series and pitches with his best stuff, the Red Sox are a virtual lock to win it.
Winning a championship requires a lot of luck. But if your team has a sharp Johan Santana, Jake Peavy or Josh Beckett during the playoffs, you just don't need quite as much. This is why I'm predicting a Mets-Red Sox World Series. And my Yankee Opening Day erection just went flaccid.
Gideon Jacobs is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Gideon.Jacobs@tufts.edu.
