June 15, 2007

 

Marlins never had chance to savor the moment

BY ISRAEL GUTIERREZ

Were they even introduced as the ''world champion'' Florida Marlins before every home game in the 1998 season, or did the whole idea just seem too awkward?

Did the big screen show highlights of the Marlins celebrating a Game 7 victory over the Cleveland Indians before announcing the lineup, or was it more appropriate to throw on some images of Mark Kotsay in the 1995 College World Series with Cal State Fullerton?

Was it Edgar Renteria and Livan Hernandez who felt like they were the ones who had been traded, having world champion teammates replaced by newcomers Andy Larkin and Vic Darensbourg?

Did Jay Powell spend the first three months of the season, before he was traded to Houston, reminding the young Marlins in the bullpen, ``You know, I was actually the winning pitcher in Game 7 last year.''

Not exactly a victory lap.

Even greater than the frustration and anger from fans that followed the dismantling of the 1997 World Series winners was the void left when the team that accomplished the feat couldn't be celebrated.

Forget having a chance to defend, how about the chance to experience the glow of a championship while wearing the same colors and playing in the same city as you did when you reached the ultimate team goal.

This year's Heat team knew the feeling. Even as the losses piled up because of some unfortunate injuries, there was a pride, a gratification that came with walking through an AmericanAirlines Arena hallway lined by still frames of their memorable Finals moments and taking the home floor while introduced as the ''NBA champion'' Miami Heat.

AN ABRUPT END

The group of 1997 Marlins that were together again in Dolphin Stadium on Thursday never had that chance. The celebration couldn't even last until winter.

So there was maybe no other group of players that deserved to be honored more than the one standing in the infield Thursday -- even if it did come a decade later and only a few thousand fans were there to embrace them.

Other than the obligatory parade in 1997 -- and even that featured the sense of impending doom because most of the team knew what was coming -- the Marlins had only one other celebration as a group.

It came right after the game, in the training room with the door locked behind them and no one allowed other than players, coaches and trainers. It was then Charles Johnson remembers

really celebrating the title.

''We never really had a team party,'' Johnson said. ``That was probably the one time we had everybody together. And that really was our team party, if you look at it.''

Devon White says he knew well before that private celebration that it would be that group's last go-around. But he already had experienced a successful title defense when the Blue Jays won back-to-back championships in 1992 and 1993.

Moises Alou, Kevin Brown, Al Leiter and Robb Nen together with Johnson, Renteria and Hernandez one more time. One chance to keep baseball relevant in Miami. If nothing else, a chance to keep the Yankees from putting together their run of three consecutive Series titles that started the very next year.

''Like I've told other people, I'm no businessman and I don't read money books and all that stuff, I'm just a baseball player and I don't know what the thinking was behind that,'' said Dennis Cook, the lefty specialist in that 1997 bullpen. ``But it would've been nice if we could've kept the guys together and make another run.''

A CHANCE TO DEFEND

Johnson is a regular at Heat games. He witnessed Miami's failed defense this season and the disappointment that came with it. But Johnson would have killed for that kind of disappointment. It was better than spending the next spring introducing himself to a clubhouse full of Triple A talent, knowing that, even if he had stayed a Marlin the whole season, even 60 wins would've been an accomplishment.

''That's all you're looking for is a chance to defend,'' Johnson said. ``It would have been probably a dream come true for all of us. You look at that ballclub and we really had an All-Star team playing out there.''

A decade later, a handful of those All-Stars came back. The memories are somewhat faded now. Johnson remembers ''the building was moving a little bit.'' Cook recalls manager Jim Leyland crying during almost every pregame speech. And White remembers giggling about that ``because he was the manager.''

There wasn't much familiar about the ceremony. Not after the unceremonious way the team was torn apart. After a decade of bitterness, it was time for a well-deserved victory lap.