Chapter 75

The regular season ended on a Wednesday afternoon in San Francisco. The team was given a full day off before flying to St. Louis on Friday morning.

Brock, Meredith and Randi hosted a cookout and pool party on the Thursday evening. The temperature was still in the low 80s in early October. Several members of the team showed up, including Wade and Allison Watson, along with their children. Zack and Tara arrived early to help set things up but the Perez family didn't arrive until after the school day ended. Fred Hartman and Matt Driesbach also came over to join the festivities.

The biggest surprise was several people that Brock had last seen in Las Vegas before the season started. Meredith had invited a few of that crew to come to visit and the ones who had no Thursday classes had accepted.

It was a nice relaxing way to end a stressful season – before the most stressful portion began.

Friday morning saw Brock on a plane headed east. He found himself seated beside someone who been scarce in recent months: Cynthia Lu.

"I've been helping the league refine its playoff security measures," she informed Brock when he asked about her absence. "Since they knew eight of the 10 playoff teams a month ago, I've been going from stadium to stadium to do a walk through. I was surprised at how lax some of the teams are."

"But you got things fixed?" Brock asked.

"As much as they would let me," Cynthia said with a shrug. "That's the thing about the league. They didn't actually give me the authority to change anything. They just wanted to know what needed to be done. I think they plan to address the shortcomings with individual teams in the offseason. How are things with you?"

Brock filled Cynthia in on the comings and goings in his little corner of the universe until the final approach to the airport.

The game between Washington and Cincinnati had started at 10 a.m. on the West Coast and was in the eighth inning when the team's charter landed in St. Louis.

Some of the other players had slept or watched movies on the flight. A few had a spirited card game but most either reviewed film of the pitchers the Dodgers would face or chatted with their teammates.

The multitude of people associated with the team – wives, girlfriends, front office personnel – were taking a later flight, after school let out for the player's children.

The Cardinals were built much like the Dodgers. Each had a solid lineup from top to bottom and each had a pitching staff riddled with injuries. The results were that the teams finished within a game of each other in the standings.

The Dodgers had lost their top two starters. The Cardinals had lost their top starter and one of their best relief pitchers. The Dodgers bench was a little deeper and its overall starting pitching from one to four was a touch better. Outside of that, the teams probably could have switched uniforms and only hardcore fans would have noticed.

Brock enjoyed the pregame ceremonies much more than he had the previous season, when he appeared in uniform with his hand in a bandage before the game but had to watch it from the clubhouse.

Jim LaCross had decided that his original plan, to alternate Driesbach and Hartman in the No. 2 spot, was still the way to go. Brock would play shortstop in Game 1; second base in Game 2; and so on. He got no complaints from either of the players affected. The only complaint came from Eddie Cruz who was left off the roster entirely.

Brock had batted in the No. 6 spot in the order since his return from the disabled list. That didn't change on the night of the opening game.

Udo Jergens would take the hill for the Dodgers in Game 1. He had faced St. Louis twice during the regular season, with a 1-1 record and an ERA just below 4.00 in 14 innings pitched. The Dodgers had faced the St. Louis pitcher once and been shut out.

It promised to be a good game and it lived up to its billing.

The Cardinals jumped out to a 2-0 lead in the second but the Dodgers came back to tie the game in the fourth on Josh Hart's two-run double.

The score remained tied until Cesar Davis singled home Al in the seventh. The Dodgers bullpen made the score hold up and they escaped with a 3-2 win.

Sunday night's game was a different story – but with the same conclusion.

The Cardinals got to the Dodgers starter, Javier Jimenez, early and often, chasing five runs across in the first two innings. The starter was gone before anyone was out in the third and the team trailed 7-0 entering the fourth inning.

The fourth was like a fireworks display for Los Angeles. The team sent 13 batters to the plate and sent seven runs across it to knot the score at 7. Brock had the ignominy of making the first and third outs in the inning.

The scored stayed tied until the bottom of the eighth when the Cardinals got to the Dodgers bullpen. The Redbirds chased across five runs before the bleeding could be staunched and entered the ninth with a 12-7 lead.

The Dodgers did not go quietly in the ninth. John Milton singled to short left field before Matt Driesbach popped up to the catcher for the first out. Wade Watson struck out looking before Al singled up the middle to move Milton to third. Josh walked to load the bases.

With the team facing its final out, Brock worked the count to 3-and-2 before doubling down the left field line, emptying the bases and bringing the Dodgers to within two runs. The Cardinals manager was forced to do something he hadn't wanted to do – use his closer, who had been unreliable all season.

Cesar met the relief pitcher with a blooper over the shortstop's head and Brock trotted home with the team's fourth run of the inning.

Danys Sanchez, whose batting average was barely over .200, was called back from the on-deck circle early in Davis' at-bat. Instead the Dodgers sent lumbering Rafael Mendoza to the plate. The former pitcher had shown good power in Triple-A and during his brief call-up in September to the majors.

"He's going to want to get ahead in the count," Al advised the young first baseman. "That means look for his fastball on the first pitch. LaCross won't give you the take sign. Not right now. Look for something you can drive."

Brock had glanced away momentarily so he didn't see what pitch was offered. Whatever it was, Mendoza must have thought it was a meatball. He delivered a mighty swing and deposited the ball over the left-field fence to give the Dodgers the lead.

Fred Hartman was sent out to pinch hit for the pitcher and continued the onslaught with a single up the middle. The inning ended when Milton grounded into a fielder's choice.

"Fred's going to stay in to play second," LaCross informed Brock in the bottom of the frame. Brock nodded and took a seat on the pine next to Danys, who was stewing about being pinch-hit for. It was usually Al's job to console a player's wounded pride but Al had other things to worry about.

"Shake it off," Brock advised. "It's one at-bat. You'll get four more tomorrow."

"I know," Danys agreed sorrowfully. "It's just, man, I wish that was me."

"Tomorrow it might be," Brock told him. "If not tomorrow then next week. Danys, you've got the talent to be a star. No one can dismiss that. You got into a funk at the start of the season and you haven't been able to shake it. Believe me, last year that was me. I kept adjusting my stance and my hands. It carried over to defense, too. I pressed and it made things worse."

"What did you do?" Sanchez asked.

"Nothing," Brock said with a shrug. "I realized it was a matter of me catching up to the game. Al kept my head on straight. I wish he'd have been around during the first part of the season. I hope he goes into coaching when he retires because he's a damned good one. You saw him pull Mendoza aside just now. He gave him some advice on what to expect. What's he told you? I thought you'd be out of it by now."

"The same thing you just did," Sanchez admitted with a frown. "He said to stop fucking with my swing and just find a way I'm comfortable. The game would slow down for me if I did that."

"But you didn't listen, did you?" Brock asked.

"No," the catcher admitted. "I got in touch with my buscone and he gave me some tips. They didn't work so I've been tinkering with my swing all year."

Brock knew a buscone was the manager of one of the dozen or so Dominican Republic baseball academies that fed players to the Major League franchises.

"It's not too late," Brock advised. "I'll come in early with you tomorrow for BP. We'll dick around until you find somewhere you're comfortable and then we won't fuck with it for the rest of the year. How's that sound?"

"Sounds as good as anything else I've tried," Danys replied as Zack got the final out via ground ball. "And I sure doubt it will hurt anything."

Brock was eager to get dressed and get back to the hotel after the slugfest. One of the things Brock found he disliked about Major League Baseball was the incessant pandering to the East Coast television audience. Any nationally televised game the team hosted would start at four p.m. It was a brutal time to play baseball in Los Angeles. Not only did the shadows make it difficult for hitters and fielders alike, it was the hottest time of the day and the Air Quality Index was at its worst because of the congestion on the numerous freeways in the city.

But because the networks wanted the game on TV at eight p.m. on East Coast, the Dodgers trotted out to play and their fans (mostly) trotted out to watch.

The same was true of the playoffs. The game in St. Louis started at six p.m. CST so it could start at seven p.m. on the East Coast. That meant to the fans in Los Angeles, the game started at four p.m., when most of them were still at work or stuck in traffic. Of course by the time the last out was recorded, it was much later. The game had taken more than four hours to play so it ended in prime time in L.A.

The league's media coordinator caught up to Brock as he got out of the shower.

"The press corps wants to speak to you," he informed him.

"Send Rafael and Cesar," Brock protested. "They're the ones who deserve the attention."

"They're already out there," the man replied. "Brock, it's mandatory in the postseason. If they request you, you have to appear."

Brock frowned but nodded.

One of the changes in the playoffs was media accessibility. The locker room was off-limits until the World Series ended. The downside was that the players had to make themselves available in the media room after the game if requested. The guidelines had been handed out to each player the week before.

"Come on, I'll take you over," the media coordinator urged.

Brock, wearing nothing but a towel, stared at the man momentarily.

"I'm going to get dressed first," he said.

"You need to hurry," the man prompted.

"I'm going to get dressed first," Brock repeated. "I will make myself available as ordered. There was nothing in the guidelines about how quickly I have to do it. You can tell them I'll be over in a few minutes."

The man grudgingly agreed and Brock wandered to his locker shaking his head.

He studiously dressed in his suit and tie before heading down the hallway to the media center. He was met outside the door by a league representative.

"Glad you decided to finally show up," she said, taking him by the elbow. Brock stopped in his tracks, causing the woman to stop too. She turned to find him staring at her hand on his arm. He shifted his gaze to hers and she immediately took her hand away.

The media center was set up with a long table on a raised dais. The woman gestured for Brock to sit at the table but he moved down the stairs instead. He plopped his butt on the edge of the stage.

"Sorry, folks," he said. "But those of you who know me know I get dressed before I talk to you. I guess those of you who don't know me know it now, too."

The woman from the league took in the scene with dismay. This player was disrupting her carefully coordinated event.

"We'll start with Jim Aarons from SportsNet," the woman said.

"No, we won't," Brock replied. "I'm perfectly capable of deciding who I'll answer questions from and in what order. I'll start the way I always do, with Ed Harvey from the 'Los Angeles Chronicle'. Ed, do you have a question?"

The Los Angeles beat writer tried to hide a smile and failed.

"Thanks, Brock," the reporter said. "In the ninth, what were you thinking when you got to the plate?"

The reason Brock always started with Ed Harvey was because Ed always asked a baseball question. It might be the only one Brock heard the entire session and he didn't want to miss it.

"I knew Carver was the last lefty the Cardinals had available," Brock answered. "I figured that I was the last hitter he'd face. The guys behind me, Davis and Sanchez, and the guys left on the bench, Williams, Mendoza and Hartman, are righties. I know the Cardinals manager likes to play the odds – righty versus righty; lefty versus lefty. I also knew that Carver had no place to put me. Our scouting report on him said he tends to rely heavily on his curveball in tight situations. He had been working off the plate. The umpire was giving him a lot of leeway on the outside corner. So I was looking for a curveball away. It's what I got and I was able to get enough wood on the ball to send it to the corner."

Brock smiled at the newspaper reporter.

"And for the record," he continued, "I want it noted that it would have been a triple with anyone but Josh Hart in front of me. I had to stop at second in case the piano he carries on his back fell off. He was still huffing and puffing when I got into the dugout five minutes later. I don't think LaCross was going to send Broderick out but he almost had to because Josh would have expired right there on the field if he had to walk out to third base."

Brock's lighthearted comment drew a few chuckles from the assembled media.

"I'm kidding, by the way," Brock replied. "Well, not really. But I don't want you to print that I said Josh is fat or anything."

He pointed to a man he suspected was from a St. Louis-area paper.

"Tim Steinmetz, St. Louis Courier," the man said. "You'll be facing Rex Mahan in Game 3. You played together in the Indians organization before he was traded to St. Louis. Does that give you any insight on what to expect?"

"Only generally," Brock answered. "I played behind him. I didn't get the chance to face him. He's a quality pitcher and a quality guy. I can guarantee you this: Rex will leave nothing on the field Tuesday evening. He was a great teammate when we played together in Akron. I'm happy for the success he's having with the Cardinals. You're lucky to have him on the roster. But I've never batted against him."

Brock decided to pick the guy the league representative had wanted to start with.

"Jim Aarons, SportsNet," the man said. "You've been the subject of a lot of rumors this season. What do you have to say to your detractors?"

"Nothing," Brock replied. "Other than to say I hope people are responsible enough not to put faith in rumors."

Brock turned to a woman in the back, ignoring the follow-up question from the SportsNet correspondent.

"Wendy Scott, Wide World Sports," she said. "You were at the heart of the league-wide media blackout recently. How do you justify your actions?"

Brock sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I guess you folks don't really listen, do you?" he asked rhetorically. "As you've been told any number of times, I was not at the heart of anything. I was not in the room when the Dodgers voted. I was not aware that a vote of any sort was taking place. I was not aware of my teammates' decision – or even that action was being considered – until the same time you folks were. I did not call the union. I did not urge or ask or coerce any action from anyone."

"This was not about one player. This was about one credentialed organization in specific and the news media in general. It was not about me or the Dodgers. Folks, I want you to listen to what I'm saying. This is the last time I plan to discuss this. Your actions spawned ours. Ed, you were in Tampa when we were there. You saw your colleagues push schoolchildren out of the way. What did you think of that?"

The Dodgers beat writer wasn't happy about being put on the spot but he answered anyway.

"I was embarrassed," he admitted.

"I know you were," Brock agreed. "I could see it on your face as you tried to distance yourself from the mongrel horde. You were embarrassed but I was outraged. I am under no obligation to make myself available to you at all times. Yet you have the impression that I am. Not only are you willing to trample kids, you're willing to ambush my friends as they get into or out of a vehicle. You think nothing of shoving a microphone under my nose or a camera in my face if I decide I want to take a walk on Santa Monica Pier with my fiancée. You think it's OK to camp outside the gates of my neighborhood to see when I come home or who I come home with. Somehow, that's become acceptable to you."