Second-Guessing Is No Trick; So Here’s Some First-Guessing

Hear ye, hear ye. Sports court is in session, the honorable me presiding.

Case 1: Lasorda vs. Common Sense.

Verdict: Former guilty of failing to exercise latter.

Dodger Manager Tom Lasorda should have started Fernando Valenzuela Sunday evening against the Cardinals, instead of throwing Jerry Reuss.

This opinion would be clear-cut felony second-guessing after the fact, except that I am writing this well before the start of the Sunday game. You’ll have to take my word on that. (Editor’s note: He’s not lying.)

Fernando would have been pitching with three days rest, which is plenty. He is 3-1 lifetime in league championship series action, and 5-1 in postseason pressure games. He is 2-0 vs. the Cardinals this season. Last Wednesday, Fernando tied up the Cardinals in little tiny knots.

Also, Fernando has maybe the best pickoff move in baseball, a critical factor against the larcenous Cards.

Reuss’ lifetime record in LCS games is 0-6.

Moving Fernando up a day in the rotation would not have been a panic move, but rather a strategic and psychological one. You’ve got the Cards down, 2-1. It’s time to go for the jugular, show that killer instinct.

There are humane considerations for Lasorda. To pluck Reuss out of the rotation in this spot would have been cold, a blow to the veteran’s pride.

Still, the verdict stands.

Case No. 2: Outside World vs. Dodger Baseball Fans.

Verdict: Outside World guilty of first-degree jealousy and ignorance.

For years, Dodger fans have been type-cast as slack-jawed, feeble-brained baseball illiterates because so many of them enjoy listening to Vin Scully on their transistor radios while watching games at Dodger Stadium.

“Los Angeles is where people carry radios to ball games so that they can be told what’s happening before their eyes,” an article in the New York Times once stated.

This is such a tired, well-worn criticism, I’m surprised the East Coast Times bothered to print it. And I hereby issue a restraining order against any further petty harassment of the world’s most loyal fans.

The only reason fans in places such as super-hip New York and too-cool San Francisco don’t bring their radios to games is that they don’t have Vinnie.

Scully is everybody’s buddy, sitting right there with you, slapping you on the back and slipping you amazing facts and breezy anecdotes.

Sometimes Vinnie is better than the ballgame.

If baseball is the national pastime, Vinnie is the national time passer.

Next case.

Case No. 3: Dodgers vs. The World, Especially All Sportswriters.

Verdict: Dodgers guilty of misdemeanor pouting.

Remember famous championship rallying cries such as, “We are fam-i-lee,” and “You gotta believe!”?

The Dodgers seem to have as a 1985 motto: “Everybody tried to write us off, sniffle, but we showed you guys.”

Yes, the general public, including the sportswriting segment, tried to write off the Dodgers.

But remember, ladies and gentleman of the jury, this was a team that had lost its best starter to an injury, had lost its best reliever to outside problems and had a star hitter unhappy and playing out of position. Also, the Dodgers looked weak at shortstop, looked injured at second base, looked old and slow in left field, looked shaky in center.

This was a boring team with poor prospects. Write ‘em off? Sure, as fast as our little hands could type.

But can’t we settle this out of court, Dodgers, let bygones be bygones? Or do you have to carry those unsightly shoulder chips into the World Series?

Case No. 4: Whining, Self-Righteous Nitpickers vs. Eric Dickerson.

Verdict: WS-R Nitpickers guilty of being just that.

So the guy held out for more money. So sue him. He didn’t hijack any ships, and he has an airtight alibi for the night of the Lindbergh Kidnapping. He did nothing illegal or unethical.

Still, the vultures circle over the reeling form of this greed-crazed young man.

Sunday, Dickerson got stacked up for a short gain, and radio play-by-play man Bob Starr said, “I don’t care what they say, if you miss training camp, you’re gonna struggle.”

Radio sidekick Dick Bass readily agreed.

Dickerson ran for 13 yards on his next carry, then 9.

On TV, when Dickerson went down with a knee injury, the announcers tied in the injury with Dickerson’s missing training camp.

Look, folks, the man reported late but well conditioned, worked out with the team 10 days before playing a game, and in that first game he rushed for 150 yards.

If the NFL season is too long and too punishing, as players and broadcasters keep telling us it is, then sitting out a couple games was the slickest move Dickerson ever made.

Dickerson hasn’t whined about the Georgia Squeeze the Rams tried to use on him, that patented salary stranglehold that has cost the team great players in the past.

So lighten up on the poor guy. The holdout is history, so what do you want? A better record for the Rams? A 4,000-yard season from Eric?

Court is adjourned. Play ball.