Will Bobby Cox go out a winner?
Shortly before the start of his farewell ceremony, I stopped by Bobby Cox’s office to wish him well.
He welcomed me and immediately started talking about the pennant race. Sixty-nine years old, 51 years in the game, and he still had a little-boy glint in his eye.
Two days left. Three teams for two spots.
“And the Giants might be the odd team out,” Cox said, shaking his head, incredulously.
At that moment, neither of us imagined that the Braves actually might be the team eliminated — and that Sunday might be Cox’s final game.
Their magic number on Friday was two. Their magic number on Saturday was two. And their magic number on Sunday is still two — the difference now being that the Braves no longer control their fate.
The chaotic finish to the National League regular season is a blast. Except for one thing. No one with a heart wants to see Cox’s magnificent career end this way.
Saturday’s on-field tribute was among the most touching I have witnessed. Many of Cox’s family members attended, as well as 76 of his former players and coaches. I even saw something I have never seen before: A baby stroller in the dugout. Of course. For one of Bobby’s granddaughters.
The video board displayed the names of those who played for Cox and were seated on white chairs in front of the stage. The crowd cheered as the board showed Dale Murphy, Greg Maddux, Fred McGriff and the rest. All that history, all those memories, flashing before everyone’s eyes.
Chipper Jones spoke beautifully, his voice cracking as he said, “Been trying to make you proud for 20 years.” Former Braves GM John Schuerholz talked about winning playoff games and extending the season to November, eliciting roars.
Cox just sat there, fidgeting.
Oh, he was appreciative. Touched that so many of his former players had come back. Grateful that his current players had purchased an 11-day Mediterranean cruise for him and his wife, Pam — and that the organization had presented them with a new Lexus.
But dammit, there was a game to play.
If this was football, the Braves would have come out flying, hitting everything in sight. But baseball is not like football; games are not won on sheer emotion and inspiration. Not long after the first pitch was thrown, all of the Braves’ problems were apparent again.
Their offense is feeble. Their defense with Brooks Conrad at third base is crumbling. Even their vaunted bullpen is showing cracks.
To think, this was supposed to be a gimme.
The Phillies’ starting pitchers in the first two games were Kyle Kendrick and rookie Vance Worley, not the killer Roys, Halladay and Oswalt. The Braves countered with their own rookie, Brandon Beachy, and one of their best pitchers, Tommy Hanson — and, lest anyone forget, their 55-23 home record was the best in the majors.
Worley, when I approached him at him around 5 p.m. Friday, was visibly unsettled. The Phillies had told him only a few minutes before that he was getting the start Saturday. Pitching coach Rich Dubee said it was no big deal, that Worley had an idea he would pitch. Worley, though, said the short noticed bothered him. He admitted that he would be tense all day — but fine on Saturday.
I couldn’t imagine this kid holding down the Braves in his second major-league start, but sure enough it happened. The Phillies won Friday night, 11-5, with Kendrick allowing two runs in five innings. They won Saturday, 7-0, with Worley allowing one hit in five innings.
Conrad, the career journeyman who has provided the Braves with numerous late-inning heroics, made a critical error at third for the second straight day. He only is playing the position because Chipper Jones and Martin Prado are injured, but baseball is unforgiving this way. The 162-game season, time and again, exposes every flaw.
And so Cox’s final season has come to this.
The Braves could be eliminated outright Sunday if they lose to the Phillies and the Padres beat the Giants. They also could end up in a one-game, wild-card tiebreaker Monday against the Padres or Tuesday against the Padres or Giants. But at this point, even if they reach the postseason, it’s difficult to imagine them going very far.
Amazing how quickly these things turn. As Saturday dawned, the day held such promise for the Braves. Before the game, I visited with Opie Otterstad, a well-known artist whom the team had commissioned to paint a large portrait of Cox. The Braves planned to surprise Cox by presenting him with the painting during the ceremony.
Otterstad showed me a print, pointing to various details he had added to the background, highlights of Cox’s career. Sid Bream’s slide. The World Series celebration in 1995. Cox at Fulton-County stadium. In his New York Yankees uniform for his game as a player. In his backyard at home the day he signed with the Dodgers in 1959.
So many years. So many memories. But when Saturday’s game was over, Omar Infante, Alex Gonzalez and several other Braves sat on the bench, staring blankly out at the field.
This is not the way Cox’s career is supposed to end.