The Rotation (38 page)

The Phillies looked flat in losing the final two games of the series in Miami. That happens during the course of a long season, especially when a first-place team on cruise control plays a dead-end team in a lifeless ballpark. Charlie Manuel couldn't wait to get out of Miami, not because of South Beach and all its trappings, but because he knew his team was going home where it would be invigorated by the energy of another Citizens Bank Park sellout. What's more, the Phillies were about to embark on a stretch of seven straight games—three at home, four on the road—against Atlanta and Milwaukee, two potential playoff opponents. The intensity figured to be high and Manuel liked that.

With Citizens Bank Park in a full, throaty roar, the Phillies opened a quick, three-game home stand with a 9-0 win over Atlanta. Cliff Lee was masterful in registering his sixth shutout, the most posted by a pitcher in a single season since Tim Belcher had eight for the Dodgers in 1989. Lee held
the Braves to just five hits, did not walk a batter, and struck out six as he positioned himself for a backstretch charge in the Cy Young race. Coming out of Miami, Chase Utley had been locked in a 2-for-28 slump and Hunter Pence was 0 for his last 11 at-bats. Both hitters came to life in backing Lee at home. Utley had two hits and Pence three RBIs. Rookie Vance Worley picked up his 11
^th
win the next night.

In a foreshadowing of the damage they would ultimately inflict on the Braves' season, the Phillies swept the series to go 42 games over .500 and run their lead to 10½ games in the NL East, effectively ending the Braves' chances of winning the division. But not everything went well for the Phillies in that series. In the finale game, Utley took a 94-mph Eric O'Flaherty fastball off the back of his batting helmet. When the Phillies' charter flight left for Milwaukee after that game, Utley was not on it. He spent the entire seven-game road trip at home, recuperating from the latest ailment to befall him—a concussion.

The Brewers were rolling toward the NL Central title and figured to be a good late-season test for the Phillies. They had formidable starting pitching with Zack Greinke, Shaun Marcum,Yovani Gallardo, and former Phillies left-hander Randy Wolf, and a power-packed lineup led by the thundering bats of MVP candidates Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder. The Phillies, of course, had some weapons of their own with Cole Hamels, Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, and Vance Worley set to pitch in the series.

Before the first game, Wolf was running in the outfield when he spotted Rich Dubee.

“Do you have the easiest job in the big leagues, or what?” he playfully shouted to the Phillies pitching coach.

It was a question that Dubee himself had pondered way back in February when he joked about bringing a recliner to spring training.

“To have three starters on one staff with ERAs under three—that's truly remarkable,” Wolf said. “And then they have a guy like Worley step in his first year and go 11-2. Facing that team is the equivalent of a pitcher having to face a team full of .330 hitters.

“It's really an awesome staff. Cole throws ninety-four, he cuts it, and has a great changeup. Halladay's ball never stops moving. Cliff has that pinpoint control. . . .”

Wolf, who rejected an offer to stay with the Phillies after the 2006 season, shook his head in amazement.

“Ruben pulled a Houdini,” he said of General Manager Ruben Amaro Jr. “He let Cliff go, then got him back. All you heard was he was headed to the Yankees or Rangers and all of a sudden the Phillies got him. It says a lot about that organization that he would go back.”

Wolf added that in addition to being talented, the Phillies staff “probably feeds off each other and pushes each other with a friendly competition.”

All season long, members of The Rotation pooh-poohed suggestions of such internal competition. But, on that first night in Milwaukee, Hamels confirmed Wolf 's belief. He had just pitched a four-hitter to lead the Phils to a 7-2 win. It was the staff 's major-league-best 17
^th
complete game and Hamels' third. He was still four shy of Halladay and three shy of Lee.

“I'm trying to keep up with these guys in complete games,” Hamels said.

Halladay and Lee followed Hamels with strong starts and the Phillies won the first three games in Milwaukee. The Big Three combined to pitch 24 innings and allow just four earned runs in those starts. The Brewers salvaged a win against Worley in the series finale, but, all in all, it was a successful visit to the land of bratwurst and beer. It was also entertaining. Second baseman Pete Orr, filling in for the concussed Utley, nearly got pancaked by one of Miller Park's famous racing sausages as he made his way to his position in the sixth inning of the second game. Everyone in the dugout had a good laugh as Orr escaped death by encased meat, but it wouldn't have been funny had Halladay been impaled by a Polish sausage. Sacrificing a utility infielder to the baseball gods is one thing, but the best pitcher in baseball? Or the second best? No way.

“I was about to walk right in front of them,” Halladay said of those speeding sausages. “I actually saw them coming and stopped. Pete didn't.”

It's a good thing Halladay saw the sausages coming. Imagine the
zap
had he been hit by one.

Lee and three relievers combined to beat the Brewers, 3-2, in 10 innings the next night and that brought out some gallows humor from the Milwaukee media contingent as it rode the elevator from the press box to the clubhouse.

“What a grind it must be for Charlie Manuel to manage that team,” one reporter said after the game.

“Yeah, tonight he actually had to use the bullpen,” another Cheesehead said. “I thought they welded the door shut.”

“I hear tomorrow the relievers are going to watch the game at Karl Ratzsch's,” added another, referring to the famous German restaurant in
downtown Milwaukee.

Yes, the Phillies were flying high. They had won six straight games against potential playoff opponents and, at 94-48, were 12 games up in the division. But even as they steamed toward the regular-season finish line and 100 wins, they knew that six months of greatness would quickly be forgotten with a poor showing in October.

“We're on a great pace,” Ryan Howard cautioned. “But at the same time, we know what the main goal is. All of this is fine and dandy, but it's all for naught if you don't go out and achieve the ultimate goal.”

The words would resonate all winter long.

With the magic number for clinching a fifth-straight division title dwindling, the Phillies headed to Houston on September 12 for three games against the Astros. It was a matchup of the team with the best record in the majors against the team with the worst, but you would never have known which was which in the first two games. Houston won the opener, 5-1, as Phillies exile Brett Myers outpitched Roy Oswalt, who made his first start in Houston since being dealt to the Phillies 13 months earlier.

Myers had been the Phillies' top draft pick in 1999. He pitched for the 2008 World Series champions. He badly wanted to stay in Philadelphia, but his pattern of knuckleheaded behavior led the team to cut ties with him after the 2009 season and he was signed by the Astros. Myers entered his start against the Phillies with a dismal 4-13 record. He knew his old team loved fastballs, so he relied mostly on off-speed stuff in holding the Phils to one run over eight innings.

This was Myers' World Series game.

“It feels good to beat them,” he said in the Astros' clubhouse after the game. “I don't know if they want to stick it to me more than I want to stick it to them, but—they're going to be in the playoffs in a few weeks and I'm going to be sitting there watching them, so. . . .”

Down the hall in the visiting clubhouse, Oswalt decompressed from a start that also carried much personal significance. He had spent a decade in Houston and was eager to make a good showing against the club for which he twice won 20 games. It didn't happen. He allowed 13 base runners in
seven innings and was hurt, as he was quick to point out, by poor defense.

“I thought I made some pretty good pitches that we didn't make the plays on,” Oswalt said afterward. “It wasn't a real fundamental game.”

Charlie Manuel concurred. In the manager's office, he sat and simmered behind the desk.

“We played a sloppy game,” he said. “That bothered me a lot.”

The Phils played another ugly game the next night in losing to another former teammate, J. A. Happ. Including a final-day loss in Milwaukee, they had lost three games in a row for the first time since early June and that irked Manuel. All season long, he had been the father of a perfect teenager. The kid did his homework, minded his manners, was always respectful, and never got in trouble. As a result, dad never had to raise his voice and that blood pressure always stayed an even 120/80. But now, the kid was slipping up and dad was getting pissed.

Manuel wasn't so much perturbed by the losses—he had no beef with the way his team played the final day in Milwaukee—as he was with how the Phillies had played the first two nights in Houston. The Phils had been outscored 10-3 in two games against a dog-meat team. They had just 11 hits, and eight of them were singles. They had gone 1 for 12 with runners in scoring position. The defense was poor. The at-bats were lousy. The offense was punchless. And on top of it all, Manuel thought the team's effort sucked. The man who was known as
Aka Oni
—the Red Devil—for his fiery temper during his playing days in Japan had seen enough. He called a private clubhouse meeting after the second loss. He rattled a few cages and let his high-flying team know it hadn't accomplished jack shit yet.

After cooling off, Manuel met with reporters.

“We've talked all year long about where we want to go,” he said. “We want to get to the World Series and win it. We're sitting in a hell of a position, but when we come out and play sloppy and don't have a lot of life. . . .

“We need to bear down. If you play right and hustle and don't win, that's OK. But mental mistakes and taking things for granted—we're better than that.”

The
Aka Oni
was getting hot again. He took a cooling breath and leaned back in his chair.

“We could put a little more into it,” he said. “That's the bottom line.”

A manager can look good when one of his tirades is followed by a win the next day. Of course, it helps when the eruption precedes one of Halladay's starts. The ace of the aces stopped the losing skid with a 1-0 shutout in the
series finale. Halladay allowed just six singles, a walk, and struck out seven. He needed to be on top of his game because the offense was largely unmoved by Manuel's little motivational speech from the night before.