My only wish, once the BoSox were eliminated from the playoffs, was to watch the Yankees’ postseason go down in flames. After Detroit sank the Yanks in five I paid homage to the Tigers by watching them steamroll over Oakland the same way Arnold Schwarzenegger mowed over bad guys in “Commando.” I did, however, stop watching baseball once the World Series took a Genesis-long week to begin.
Maybe it was Tommy Lasorda’s commercials that guilted me into it, but last Wednesday I decided to drop everything and watch game four of the World Series once I left the friendly, yet unregulated climate of the Union ghetto (AKA the Chronicle office) for the day.
With my night comfortably planned out ahead of me, I stopped by Wendy’s to pick up a grilled chicken sandwich combo and a Frosty to dip my fries in (don’t knock it until you try it, because it is D-E-L-I-C delicious).
As I pulled into my driveway and the snowflakes turned to hailstones, I started wondering what happened to the October weather of my youth that I remembered. At that exact moment, something dawned on me-St. Louis and Detroit aren’t in Florida, Georgia, Texas, Arizona or California, so what was there to stop either of those mid-American cities from having weather like Salt Lake City’s for the World Series?
When I finally plopped down in front of the TV, I found out that St. Louis was being pounded with enough rain to postpone the World Series for the first time in 10 years.
Major League Baseball and the TV networks that broadcast the World Series are just plain lucky that it isn’t snowing in St. Louis, because it very well could have.
Before both League Championship Series were injected into the playoff system in 1969, the World Series typically started in the first week of October. Since then, the start of the World Series has been pushed back later and later in the month.
In 1981, the four Division Series pushed the start of the World Series back even further, and since then, the average start to a World Series has been October 19. Erroneously, in 2001, the World Series didn’t even start until the last week in October and it didn’t finish until the first week in November.
Keeping that in mind, isn’t it about time the Boys of Summer started playing the World Series in the playable portion of October?
The NFL doesn’t even play its most important game of the season in nasty weather, and football is a game that embraces the natural elements.
People love watching the NFL playoffs in the driving blizzards of New England. Football was born for the mud pits of Kansas City and Cleveland, but nobody wants to watch baseball play the bulk of its season in sunny and temperate conditions, only to have the culmination of the season decided in sub-freezing temperatures and sleet storms that would drive away even the most dedicated Cubs fan if they could ever get past the curse of the goat.
I am all for keeping the World Series in October; after all, it has always been played in the eighth month of the Roman calendar, and baseball is the game of tradition. With that being said, there is no reason the World Series can’t be started closer to the beginning of October.
The way I see it, if MLB is going to improve upon the Series and its watchability (this year the World Series is on pace to get its worst ratings since the television was invented), then it can do one of two things.
Option 1: Start the season earlier, and let teams play in miserable weather to begin the season. Most of these games could be played in areas of the country where winter doesn’t hit as hard until conditions in Boston, New York, Detroit and Chicago calm down. And let’s be honest: Games at the beginning of the season are far less important than the end of the season, unless you are the Kansas City Royals or Tampa Bay Devil Rays. In these cases, the first of the season is the only time these teams will ever smell the top of the division.
Option 2: If that solution isn’t feasible, play the World Series like the Super Bowl.
It would be eight crazy nights of baseball. Start the World Series on a Friday night, take a break on Monday for Monday Night Football (and so players, especially the bullpen, could rest). Starting on Friday ensures that the World Series finale would never conflict with football’s extended weekend, and there would be another excuse to watch sports during the week.
In the event that the Series is actually good and goes all seven games, then Game Seven Friday would be born and Major League Baseball would maximize the conclusion to its marathon season.
This way, fans and players wouldn’t have to bundle up like Eskimos for a baseball game, people outside the cities participating in the World Series would actually tune in and Kenny Rogers wouldn’t have to leave fecal matter on his hand to get a better grip on the baseball. It’s a win-win situation for everyone.
