The Reds Climb Playoff Mountain

But not long enough to enjoy the view

In about 19 hours over the weekend, the Reds went from rebirth to reject. Nothing tells you more about vicissitudes of baseball than that.

The what, Doc?

You want to predict how the next few weeks play out? Be my guest. We’ll all go to Vegas and bet your house on it.

To understand the ‘23 Club, you didn’t need to watch its previous 130 or so games. You just needed to watch its last two. Sublime athleticism, admirable heart, shaky relief pitching, 1st-time playoff-race clenching. Not enough boom in the middle of the order.

It all amounted to Joy/No Joy in Mudville and ground lost to the Diamondbacks in the slog race to the 6th and last playoff spot.

Are the Reds playoff-worthy? The Big 162, ultimate revealer of Truth, will answer that. Right now, they look to be a few pitchers short. Duh.

The second the Big Man & Co. determined Next Year was more important than This Year, that script was written. The Reds’ case of the Wait- ‘Tils might pay off in the long run, but until I find my crystal ball I can’t say that. All I can say is, Reds relievers walked four guys in one inning Sunday, in the most important game of the season so far.

That’s a shame because if life were fair, this overachieving team would have been rewarded with impactful reinforcements in late July. It would not have had to dip into the minor-league roster of Google Guys and former Ducks.

At the moment, if you are David Bell to whom can you turn with any certainty in your overtaxed ‘pen? Even your most trusted guy, Alexis Diaz, is leaking. We’ll see tonight in SF what Andrew Abbott has left in the tank. Hunter (Gen. Custer) Greene has not brought the cavalry. Brandon Williamson has done well. He’s not yet a stopper. See you next March, Nick Lodolo?

That leaves any hope of reliability all to Graham Ashcraft, whom youse wanted DFA’ed a couple months ago. That’s no way to make the playoffs.

All that said, the athleticism is impressive. It was summed up on one play Sunday. Friedl and Run-DLC collaborated to swipe an inside-the-park HR from Corbin Carroll, with one of the best relay throws of this or any season. As a defender, Friedl is simply everywhere. So is Elly De La Ozzie Smith. Matt McLain is overlooked as a defensive player.

Spencer Steer advanced to second Sunday, on a flyout to rightfield. Benson can move. And so on. Athleticism doesn’t slump.

Who brings the thump? Steer leads the Reds with 18 homers. For a team that plays at Great American Small Park. The Reds are 8th in the NL in longballs. Steer also tops the team with 71 RBI. Nineteen NL hitters have more. The speed is impressive. Wouldn’t it be good if it were aided and abetted by 3-run homers?

The best and worst of the ‘23 Club was on display in one 19-hour window over the weekend. Make of that what you will.

Now, then. . .

THE FED EX CUP DOESN’T THRILL ME. . . It’s all about the Benjamins. The participants can deny it all they like. (So can The Sycophants, aka CBS). But the tangible reward for winning the three-week event is nothing but cash, something these guys already have.

Viktor Hovland is your 2023 Fed Ex Cup champ. He won $21 million in the past two weeks. That’s enough to buy half of Oslo. That’s in Norway, class, where Hovland is from. What he didn’t win was much prestige.

The Fed Ex was created as a way to funnel more money to players, and on that score, it has done well. But when Hovland overwhelmed Xander Schauffele Sunday, no one left the grounds at East Lake thinking Hovland was the next Bobby Jones.

It didn’t help that Nantz & Friends never explained to casual watchers how the Cup thing works. Or that Hovland might win it, but that still might not make him Player of the Year. Nantz was too busy congratulating every player who showed up wearing a polo shirt.

When the stakes are money and nothing else, the stakes aren’t very high.

THE US OPEN TENNIS TOURNAMENT should be renamed the the No US Men’s Open tennis tournament. It starts today. It’d take a miracle for an American guy to win it.

How big of a miracle, Doc?

No American man has won a Grand Slam event since Andy Roddick won the US Open. . . in 2003. We used to be pretty good at tennis. Smith begat Connors begat McEnroe, Agassi and Sampras and Roddick. You could count Lendl, too, if you wanted to be generous.

Now, name one American in the Top 50, win one of McEnroe’s busted rackets.

RUFUS ALERT. . . We watched Cocaine Bear over the weekend. My son told us to. He loved it. My wife liked it. I thought it stunk.

It couldn’t decide what it wanted to be — funny or scary? — and in trying to be both, it was neither. A few chuckles, blunted by the sight of the bear ripping out a man’s entrails. OK.

ABOUT A MIILION APOLOGIES for what has to be the lamest TML in years. Decades from now, you’ll tell your grandkids about the day Doc wrote his worst Morning Line.

No, we won’t.

Better tomorrow.

TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . I’ve been on a run of sort-of downer ballads lately. One more today and I’ll stop.