If you do what I do for a living and you’re lucky enough to do it for multiple decades, you get asked certain questions over and over:
What’s Ken Griffey Jr. like?
How are the Reds gonna do this year?
Is Pete a Hall of Famer?
Are you better or worse for eating press box food, do you have lots of Marriott points, do people under the age of 80 ask you for your autograph and how can you maintain an enthusiasm for your job for 40 years when chronologically you’re close to being a paid ward of the Social Security state?
Let’s see. . .
1. I have no idea.
2. I have no idea.
3. I have no idea.
4. Worse.
5. Yes.
6. Haha.
7. I go to every game/event armed with the childlike notion I might see something I’ve never seen before. A Bengals Super Bowl, perhaps. And what I saw in person on Saturday. Saturday, October 2, 2021. UC went to South Bend and beat Notre Dame in football. That honored my 30-year run on suffering. I know you know what I’m talking about.
Lloyd: “What do you think the chances are of a guy like you and a girl like me ending up together?
Mary:“Well, Lloyd, I. . .
’’Lloyd: “Give it to me straight.’’
Mary: “Not good.’’
Lloyd:“You mean like one out of a hundred?’’
Mary: “I’d say more like one out of a million.’’
Lloyd, grinning like an idiot. Which, in point of fact, he is: “So you’re telling me there’s a chance?’’
Lloyd’s dumb-n-dumber life stands as a model of. . . optimism?
From Saturday:Go ahead and say it, UC's best victory ever
Analysis:What we learned from Bearcats' win
Maintaining that silly, little-boy belief demands a Charlie Brown-type mindset. And a major decline in brain cells. Three-plus decades later, impossible is no longer impossible. Lloyd meets Mary, in his very own Al Michaels, Do Believe In Miracles Moment.
The moment arrived Saturday afternoon at the cathedral of quasi-am football, when 17,000 UC fans made more noise than 60,000 Domers in ND Stadium. Then drove home deliriously happy. This was a rare instance when being old was an advantage. Context was yours for the taking. If you’re old enough to recall the last time UC beat ND (Hint: never) your sense of appreciation never really wanes.
So you’re telling me there’s a chance?
All the tangible rewards for that W are immense: Regional recruiting just got easier, the pot-holed road from Clifton to the football Final Four got a hopeful dose of smooth. The Bearcats are nagging at the periphery of the Big Time, pulling the Soup of Five along with them. There is a decent chance the money will be bigger and more equally shared.
It might even be enough to keep Luke Fickell around for a couple more days, at least.
And all that still isn’t as good as the intangibles won Saturday by the Bearcats. “Let me tell you about the year UC beat the Irish in South Bend. . .’’ No amount of cash can buy the 24-karat feelgood that win will provide for decades.
And the Bearcats damned well better beat Temple Friday at The Nip.
MEANTIME. . . The Bengals won two football games in five days. Maybe in a month or so, we’ll look at those two Ws and be less impressed. The Steelers are in trouble, in a way they haven’t been since when?
Early 70s? The Jaguars have more immediate hope than Pittsburgh. That’s how dire are the Steelers straits. I can’t recall the last time the Bengals consistently challenged Pittsburgh’s reign at the same time that UC wasn’t a regional football footwipe. Happy days are here.
The Bengals showed impressive maturity by the focus they displayed in the quick-turnaround win over Jax. They’re showing they’re not just the Joe Show. They can win games when Burrow isn’t a star. Run defense is credible, pass blocking exceeding expectations. Evan (The Leg) McPherson can win close games. It’s rarely wise to bet on The Men to overachieve (see Charlie Brown reference, above.) But both UC and the Bengals are in the process of making belief fashionable around here.
DID WE MISS ANOTHER TEAM WORTHY of our optimism and our impressive Lloyd-ness?
Well, yes and no.
The Reds concluded their most fun season since 2012 that was also their most frustrating. Fanly love-hate was palpable. Ownership belied its original proclamations of championship baseball, in a year that might have had a happier ending had the wallet been given a little extra room to breathe. As it was, bullpen weakness sucked some of the starch out of a team with (almost) enough front-line talent to spend a few more weeks playing extra innings. And that made a lot of you a little distrustful of ownership’s commitment to success beyond simple OK-ness.
“It’s hard to make it to the playoffs if you win 83, 84 or 85 games,’’ Joey Votto said. “There are some guys who are really good players right now, and we have to take advantage of them.”
It’s cliched after every season of almost good-ness to suggest a team is “close, one or two players away.’’ But that really was where the Reds were in 2021. They had enough good players having very good seasons that 83-79 left all us a little short.
Best years of their careers? Castellanos, Miley, Mahle.
Surprise great year? Votto.
Surprise good years? India, Naquin, Winker, Vlad Gutierrez. In March, I had the Reds finishing 82-80. Had I known then what I know now, I’d have bumped it up to 88-74.
Can they do that next year? I have no idea. If they can finish 88-74 very likely without Castellanos -- or more and/or better achievement again from Naquin, Moose/Suarez, bullpen and bench – you’ll have more affection for David Bell.
It’s hard to see that happening.
This summer was a missed opportunity. Next summer will be a telling season for ownership. There’s a wild card’s difference between wanting to win and actually doing so. Next year will shine footlights on the club’s intentions.So you’re telling me there’s a chance?
TRIP REPORT. . . Almost every work-related roadie is good. Traveling has always been among the best parts of the gig. Going to South Bend this weekend was pretty bad.
I can say without fear of rebuttal that US 31 North between Indy and ND is among the worst highways I’ve ever driven. At least 100 miles of one-lane travel. More orange barrels than cars trying to dodge them. Driving back Saturday night in the pouring rain. Slick, glassy road… Lights from the barrels did a fine job of blinding me. GPS detouring me twice, deeper into cornfield nowhere. Imagine driving 50 mph through Mammoth Cave. If I’d have gotten lost, I’d be on a milk carton today.
Spent two nights in an Airbnb in the thriving metropolis of Atlanta. . . Indiana. (Note to corporate bean-counters. The total bill was just around $200. Most scribes paid four times that, per night. You’re welcome.) The house where I stayed was nice enough and pleasantly rural. My landlord was very nice. But it was 10 miles from the nearest town, Cicero, was wasn’t quite jammed with restaurants. Or much of anything. And was 2-plus hours from ND Stadium.
Not quite like spending a week in San Diego or Sydney. Next time, I go to Lunken and hijack a helicopter.
TUNE O’ THE DAY.Not exactly a tune.
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