Much like a see-saw rises and falls on both sides when children play outside without a care in the world, one of these days, the Chicago Cubs' see-saw will start tipping in the opposite direction it's been pointed in for the past 108 years.
Until now, the City of Big Shoulders has seen that see-saw tilted a little too much for its own liking in the direction of the ground, instead of the sky.
And after storming out to a 2-0 series lead in the National League Division Series over the San Francisco Giants (who are pesky the way buzzing mosquitos or flies around your head that you can't seem to swat are), I thought for sure last night's epic, heartbreaking 13-inning thriller was that tipping point.
When Jake Arrieta buggy-whipped a three-run homer off living postseason legend Madison Bumgarner in the second inning, the Cubbies celebrated in the dugout like all hell had broken loose.
Surely, this was a sign. The Giants were 10-0 in playoff elimination games since 2010 prior to last night, and suddenly, a three-run lead felt more like a slaughter rule.
But alas, it's just that kind of mentality these young North Siders will finally have to overcome if they want to make history, and overcome talk of the 1969 Mets, Black Cats, Billy Goats, Leon Durham and Steve Garvey, and the other Steve, whose last name we won't mention here out of respect to him.
We live in an era where almost every postseason reliever can hit 95-plus on a radar gun. And these guys are playing at a level where the skill sets are so good, so evenly matched, that even one seemingly innocent, insignificant thing can make the difference between a World Series and going home.
Make no mistake, a huge part of postseason baseball at the Major League level is a mind game.
Stunned Connor Gillaspie tagged the first 100-plus MPH pitch he's EVER seen in his career to give the Giants the lead in the bottom of the eighth? Welcome to the Show, kids. Where heroes are born, and even a career bench guy with a quick bat, just once, can change history. It happens. Why?
Because he knew what pitch he was looking for. Gillaspie wasn't sitting on Aroldis Chapman's slider. He was looking for his fastball. A fastball that may travel faster than any human being on the planet can hurl one in bullet-like fashion. But it's a straight fastball, nonetheless.
I mention this specific at-bat because it profoundly illustrates just how mental this game truly is.
Much like a game of high-stakes poker, pitching and hitting in the Bigs is about out-bluffing your opponent --- a lot.
Will you get a third straight breaking pitch on 0-2? Or will your hands be too slow to catch up when you're stunned with a 97 MPH heater down the middle instead, because it's the last thing you expected?
The mind games going on out there are the real beauty of the game of baseball. And the winner of those mind games, the team that makes fewer mistakes while bluffing better, will win almost every time.
It why when I see Anthony Rizzo mired in an 0-for-13 slump in these playoffs, after putting up an MVP-like season that included a .292 average with 32 homers and a team-best 109 RBIs, I wonder what's going on in his head.
That's not a knock on him, but clearly, when he falls behind the count early, as he has most at-bats in this series, the Giants are exploiting his adrenaline, aggressiveness, and know he's up there hacking.
As I said prior to the start of the playoffs, this was a problem for him, and many Cubs hitters, when they got swept by the New York Mets a season ago, just one step away from their first World Series air since the end of World War II.
There will come a point when Rizzo calms himself, much like someone meditating their stress away does, and tells himself, "Hey, maybe I should lay off early in the count, or find ways to get ahead, so the pitcher has to adjust, rather than me adjusting to him."
Such is the Buddhist-like Yin and Yang of this glorious game. There's always a chance to redeem yourself, and tilt the balance of things back the opposite way, if one so chooses.
It's why I was so impressed with reliever Mike Montgomery's four innings of relief last night, despite the fact he took the loss. This may be just his second season in the majors, at age 27, but he showed wisdom and discipline beyond his years, which I'm certain Jed Hoyer and Theo Epstein knew when dealing for him from Seattle earlier in the year.
It was clear Montgomery had a plan, clear that he was prepared, keeping the ball down and away from Giants hitters, in an effort to limit their power. He utilized his breaking ball in devastating fashion, sweeping it down and away from lefty hitters with the taunting nature of someone teasing a dog who's been patiently waiting for a treat.
Montogomery is the kind of thinker who knows how to tip that imaginary see-saw I mentioned earlier a little bit more in the Cubs' direction.
It's something his younger Cubs counterparts will need to do, also, if they hope to win this series, both at the plate, and on the mound.
Having John Lackey on the mound tonight in Game 4, who knows how to pitch, rather than just throw hard, may be the biggest turning point yet in Cubs history. I mean that. Because he's the type of cerebral individual who possesses the veteran-like traits I've just discussed, which include poise, maturity, and most important of all, experience.
It's a huge obstacle the Cubs and Lackey are trying to overcome. You don't win 11 straight playoff elimination games, or three World Series crowns in a six-year span, on accident, as the Giants have. Experience matters, and right now, the Cubs are getting a hands-on lesson in that genre --- one that will benefit them, too, once they get over their biggest hurdle, which is themselves.
When the Cubs were stuck in a 1-for-24 slump in the late innings last night, I kept asking myself, "Who wants to be a hero? Who wants to be a legend? Who will find a way to get ahead in the count, or create a baserunner?"
Dexter Fowler had a gorgeous at-bat to reach base first. Then Kris Bryant answered that call loud and clear with his game-tying two-run blast that sent the game into extra innings, a towering homer that hit the top of a car advertisement in left field in such historic un-Cub-like fashion, it caused even Bryant to smirk as he rounded the bases.
But it's that sort of swagger, confidence and a plan, the Cubs need to sustain for nine innings, not just one or two. They need to develop that killer instinct, that trait that says, "We're about to finally smoosh you under our feet the same way an angry homeowner would say lights out to a filthy cockroach scurrying across the kitchen floor."
I'm convinced this next game, or possibly two, may represent the Cubs' biggest hurdle they will face this postseason. San Franciso has all the elements of a World Series team. So do the Cubs.
But this? This feels like a turning point. One that defines just how we all remember the 2016 Chicago Cubs. This has the potential to be the night we all look back one day, decades from now, and say, "This is where our baby Cubs grew up into huge grizzlies. This is where they took that next step. The one we've waited for for more than a century."
How Chicago's players make adjustments tonight, and the mentality they approach situations with at the plate and on the mound, as I've said countless times on social media and places like here, will be the difference between winning and losing.
Right now, the Cubs are at the poker table, and the sooner they learn, it's not the cards, but how you play them, the better off they'll be. The talent is there.
Because even if the Cubs are holding a two and a four in their hand, while the Giants have a pair of Jacks, the Cubs can bluff the Giants right out of the postseason. I promise you.
If they play their cards right, that is.
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