THE FRONT ROW with MARK NELKE: How we root depends on the chair
In our day job — which is mostly a night job, actually — we root for good stories.
While yes, we like to see our local teams do well — those make for better stories — what we really like are good games.
Games where you show up to cover them, and you honestly don’t know which team is going to win. Or even if one is a slight favorite, the other is good enough to pull an upset.
Sure, there’s always an angle in a 52-0 blowout.
But, as an example, Coeur d’Alene vs. Rigby in football, or Coeur d’Alene vs. Camas, or Coeur d’Alene vs. Highland or Coeur d’Alene vs. Rocky Mountain are all intriguing games because, going in, you really don’t know who’s going to win. But you have a pretty good idea it's going to be a good game.
But when the day’s — er, night’s — work is done ...
MOST OF us grew up sports fans. We have our favorite teams — some we live and die with more than others.
Some of us learned math through sports — seven touchdowns plus seven PATs equals 49 points, for example.
That’s why, even when your favorite football team has a three-touchdown lead with eight minutes to play, you still worry they can blow it and allow the other team to come back and win.
“The other team has only scored 3 points in 52 minutes. What makes you think they can score 21 in the next 8 minutes?” you are asked.
“Well, they could score on this next play, we could fumble the ensuing kickoff, they could score again, we could go three and out, they could score again, a bear could run onto the field, they could score again, a monsoon could strike, six of our key guys could go down with injuries, and ... ”
That’s why “fan” is short for “fanatic.”
The Seahawks haven’t been good defensively for years, but from an opposing fan’s view, they still look to me like they could re-create the “Legion of Boom” any minute now, and start blasting opposing players all over the place again.
SAME WITH basketball.
It can be nerve-wracking to watch your team try to hold on to a lead, especially when they are supposed to win — it would be a real kick in the you-know-what to lose to THOSE guys.
Doesn’t matter if the other team hasn’t made a 3-pointer all game — as long as there is time left in the game, they could suddenly hit 10 3s in a row, and wipe out your team’s 18-point lead in no time.
NOBODY’S GOING to call them the gritty, gutty Dodgers — they have one of the top-three payrolls in major league baseball.
But when you’re a fan, you see the warts — a pitching staff so decimated by injuries they have to throw bullpen games in the postseason, a top-heavy lineup, an ailing star hobbling about like Kirk Gibson in the 1988 World Series.
The Dodgers have been to the playoffs 12 straight seasons, and to the World Series three times during that span. But apparently there are no bonus points for consistency — what have you done for me lately? Only one World Series title during that time? Just one?
There are some who, if the Dodgers fall short again this year, want to take Dave Roberts out into the middle of the Pacific Ocean and leave him there.
You’re almost better off being crappy most years, then catching lightning in a bottle (the Nationals and Rangers being recent examples).
To beat a Padres team was healthy, hungry and howling (the fans, anyway) was impressive. I thought the Padres and Phillies were the two teams to most likely emerge from the National League.
Both teams have lineups full of mashers — Harper and Schwarber and other long-haired guys in Philly, Machado and Tatis and others in San Diego. And plenty of pitchers. And rabid fans, who seem to make more of a difference in the playoffs, where bases on balls in the third inning are cause for delirium.
More should have been made that neither the Phillies nor Padres made it past the Division Series. But both seem to have been given a pass.
The Phillies lost to the Mets, who were actually referred to as gritty and gutty — which is laughable, since the Mets have the highest payroll in the sport.
But compared to the other team in their city ...
The big, bad Yankees used to be a beast in the postseason — batter after batter working the count, often resulting in a sharp base hit somewhere. But the current version seems to be built to fold in the playoffs — their defense and their pitching lets them down, and their hitting comes up short.
(Funny, I wrote that paragraph the other day, before they let Game 3 of the ALCS slip away, and nearly did the same thing in Game 4).
Still, the Yankees made it to the World Series, but with an assist from Cleveland’s normally unhittable closer.
SINCE WE’RE not actually covering the playoffs, we can have a rooting interest in former Lake City star Kyle Manzardo, the lefty hitting rookie making an impact batting second for the Guardians.
Like we did a few years ago — OK, I guess it was a couple decades ago — with Bobby Jenks (Lakeland High, Prairie American Legion), the closer who helped the White Sox beat the Astros in the World Series.
Plus, Cleveland seems like a cool story anyway — a smaller market team which has been a pretty good team in recent years, riding the excitement and now one step away from the World Series — with different heroes emerging every game.
Which is a neat thing, day or night.
Mark Nelke is sports editor of The Press. He can be reached at 208-664-8176, Ext. 2019, or via email at mnelke@cdapress.com. Follow him on X (formerly Twitter) @CdAPressSports.