With the non-waiver trade deadline now surpassed, the rosters reasonably set, the wheat and chaff separated, the also-rans properly in their place, and two thirds of the schedule having come and gone it's time for the baseball season to get serious. The Dog Days of August have arrived.
Technically, 20 of the 30 teams are still in contention; that is if you define "a contender" with eight weeks to go as a team that's within six games of the last wild-card berth in each league, which is what MLB in its passion for parity chooses to do. You can sneer at this and argue any team that's only .500 and 10 games behind this late has no chance.
But if you do that you're not only dismissing the Red Sox -- which is reasonable -- but forgetting that the defending champion Cardinals were in roughly the same plight precisely a year ago. And that's not reasonable. After the madcap finish of the 2011 season featuring (among others) your favorite team (as if you need be reminded) few students of this crazy business will be anxious to declare anything over until it's over, thus further verifying the prophetic wisdom of Yogi Berra.
Who says a 162 game season is ridiculously too long? As the game has evolved in our times, the full season actually consists of three quite different seasons. The first runs until Memorial Day and means little while revealing even less. The second extends well into the summer beyond the All Star break as teams grope to find their viable roster while enduring the inevitable injuries (much on the rise) and sorting out attitude issues (even more on the rise) brought about by the constant shuffling of rosters and radical turnover of personnel. How well teams identity these problems and deal with them during this middle stage -- a process that climaxes with the July 31st trade deadline -- determines their fate in the third and final stage which we are now entering.
The team that by this point has truly ironed out all its kinks resolving its thorniest quirks while surviving the inescapable quota of health, attitude, and motivational issues thus emerging much stronger than it was at the start of the season is increasingly difficult to identity on the first of August. But it's fascinating to consider how rarely it proves to be the team that had been dominant to this point.
Times have changed. Teams just don't run away with it anymore. The wire to wire champ is almost extinct. In this generation, there has only been a handful. The Tigers and Mets for a year in the '80s. The Blue Jays, a couple of Yankees' editions, and maybe one Braves' team in the '90s. None, really, in more recent years.
Increasingly, smart teams recognize this and make regular season eminence less a priority. Call it the "St. Louis Cardinals syndrome." They have worked the new thinking to utter perfection twice in the last half dozen seasons. Your 2004 Red Sox were a text-book illustration of the thesis while the 2010 Giants were an even better example.
At the other extreme, the team that's been most often stung by all these strange new dynamics has obviously been the Yankees whose obsession with gearing for and dedicating themselves to the domination of the regular season increasingly looks counter-productive. If they continue to coast the rest of the way then get smacked in the opening payoff round by Oakland we may safely conclude they still don't get it.
A key factor in this new scenario has been the wild-card, that devilish modern contrivance that for some of us remains highly aggravating. But if it tends to negate the point and purpose of the regular season there's no question that it has added to the excitement. And it is excitement, not the purity of the process that sells. Or so they say. Now we have two wild-cards in both leagues. Does that double the wackiness and therefore the excitement?
Beyond doubt is the fact, however regrettable, that the wild-card is here to stay. There might even be the danger that its foremost champion -- and that would be the ex-used car salesman in charge of this game -- might be tempted to further double the wild-cards to four per league per year.
But is it smart in the long run to diminish the meaning and value of your regular season when the product you are selling consists of 2,340 regular season games? Ah, now that is the question nor does it remotely interest Czar Selig whose total obsession is the profits his game enjoys, here and now. One can almost hear Selig and his cronies muttering, "Let posterity take care of itself."
Hey, maybe in the end this year we'll have a world series matching the A's and the Pirates and wouldn't that be delightful! In the meantime, there's much to monitor.