First there was “The Catch,” the famous defensive play New York Giant Willie Mays made on Cleveland Indians’ left-handed hitter Vic Wertz back in 1954. It was Game 1 of the 1954 World Series – the score tied 2-2 at the time -and the web gem (this before shows like Baseball Tonight existed) caught the crowd’s breath and seized all momentum from the red-hot Indians.
Mays, knowing he had only one out and his opponent had men on first and second, threw from the farthest depth of the Polo Grounds after making the spectacular grab and caught a sprinting Larry Doby, who was attempting to re-tag second base after rounding third. The Indians went on to lose the game and the series. The play is considered by a large portion of sports historians as the greatest of all time. The Indians, slightly favored in that series, haven’t won a World Series since 1948.
Then there was “The Drive,” the haunting 99-yard march led by Broncos’ quarterback John Elway on the cusp of his prime. It happened during the waning minutes of the 1987 AFC Championship Game. The Browns, the odds-on favorite to advance, were leading 20-13 until Elway resurrected the comeback and the whole downtrodden Denver franchise within 5:02 – the time it took the Hall-of-Fame quarterback to complete the drive with a 5-yard pass to Mark Jackson.
The drive is considered to be the NFL prototype for what is now called “two-minute drills.” The Broncos, of course, won the game with a field goal in overtime and the Browns haven’t been the same since.
Need proof? The following year, the curse continued to rear its ugly head – reincarnating itself this time in the form of “The Fumble” – as Browns’ tailback Ernest Byner was stripped of the ball on the 3-yard line on a would-be game-tying touchdown. The Browns also lost that AFC Championship Game, 38-33.
Finally, there was “The Shot.” The beginning of the Michael Jordan Era and the end (figuratively speaking) of the Cleveland Cavaliers. The fading, leaping (and then falling), pump-faking, prayer-of-a-shot from a young Jordan in 1989. Only five years removed from college, Jordan received the in-bounds pass with his Bulls trailing 99-98. With a couple of dribbles on the top of the key, Jordan didn’t waste much time heaving up the miraculous shot over Cavs’ guard Craig Ehlo – appearing almost frozen in the air – just as the buzzer sounded and he began emphatically celebrating his winning shot.
It was Game 5 of the first round of the NBA Playoffs and the Bulls had just knocked the heavily-favored Cavaliers out for good. If Jordan’s shot wasn’t demoralizing enough for a team that had never won a championship, then 2007’s version of “The Sweep” certainly was. In case you missed it, the San Antonio Spurs mopped the floor with LeBron’s Cavaliers this past summer, taking the Finals in four games and solidifying their status as the class of the NBA for a long time to come.
And now?
One only has to replay the events of last Sunday’s ALCS Game 7 to see the birth of a new curse, a new play that will live in Cleveland sports’ infamy for decades to come.
“The Hold-up”
I feel that my coined phrase is self-explanatory, but I’ll elaborate.
Game 7. Seventh inning. The Cleveland Indians are down 3-2 and are threatening with one out and Red Sox star reliever Hideki Okajima on the ropes. With Kenny Lofton in scoring position, rookie rightfielder Franklin Gutierrez steps to the plate. Almost immediately, Gutierrez makes solid contact with a fastball from Okajima. The speeding ball bounces off the shallow part of the left field wall and sputters into the outfield. With Lofton – the record holder for postseason steals and one of the fastest men to have ever played the game – ready to head home, third-base coach Joel Skinners throws up a desperate “stop” sign. “Don’t Worry, Be Manny” Ramirez slowly scoops up the ball and lightly tosses it to second, officially signaling his intention to not attempt a long throw. Lofton looks back and forth, from the outfield to home plate, a cheetah (or deer) in headlights. Skinner makes a last-ditch effort to wave Lofton home, but by this point its far too late.
The split-second decision by Skinner cost the Indians not only a run, but – in my mind – the momentum, the game, the series and maybe even more.
The next play was a double play, a weak ground out from Casey Blake that ended the inning with the Red Sox still leading. With the rally deflated, the Indians were more or less cooked.
The series, up to this point, had been an exhaustively frustrating one. Boston, somehow someway, rediscovered the magic of 2004, and came back from the dead (or a 3-1 deficit) to tie up the series and force a Game 7. Unable to find a way to win with their two best pitchers – C.C. Sabathia and Fausto Carmona – in Games 5 and 6, the Tribe were forced to turn to sinkerballer Jake Westbrook in the deciding match. But with crucial pieces (such as Grady Sizemore and Travis Hafner) playing like the weight of the world rested on their shoulders, the Indians didn’t stand much of a chance.
Look at a game summary from the bottom of the seventh inning for evidence: A listless Blake – usually a sure-handed fielder – makes a glaring error to start the inning, pooching the ball into foul territory. Jhonny Peralta, a Gold Glove-worthy shortstop, failed to call for a fly ball and collided with Blake in left field. And in the end, Cleveland’s best relief pitcher, Rafael Betancourt, yields a two-run home run to a light-hitting rookie, metaphorically severing the head off the Cleveland body.
In 2004, ESPN inaugurated Cleveland as the “most tortured sports city” in America. The label still sticks. Whether its the “Curse of Rocky Colavito,” “The Catch” or even “The Hold-up,” the Indians are a helpless franchise stuck in the wrong city. Maybe somebody should call the late Art Modell.
Another team needs moving.
Matthew Murray is a Weinberg junior. Reach him at [email protected].
