Choke

Here, for the benefit of Frank Robinson and the Nationals, are some tips about how to win when you're facing a great pitcher like John Smoltz.

1. If you're a pitcher like Jason Bergmann, don't walk the leadoff hitter and then hit the second batter to get to a great left hander like Chipper Jones when left handers have an .900 OPS against you. See, what happens in a situation like that is Jones smokes your fastball into right field to score the batter you walked.

2. If you're Frank Robinson, don't pitch John Halama under any circumstances. He'll only get bombed and give up runs you can't afford to give up.

3. Be opportunistic on offense because you won't have many opportunities. You should take walks, move runners over intelligently, and wait for the hit to drive in your runners.

For example, let's say its the bottom of the second and with one out and one man out and your rookie third baseman has the presence of mind to go the other way for a double. Yes, you have the misfortune of the ball jumping the fence for a ground-rule double, which prevents the runner from scoring, but those are the breaks. You still have men on second and third with only one out. If you're a hitter in this situation, YOU MUST EITHER HIT A FLY BALL OR A GROUND BALL TO THE HOLE! That way you can score the runner from third even on an out! Do not, we repeat, DO NOT strike out. See, all that does is bring up a hitter like Cristian Guzman who can't hit his way out of a paper bag.

4. To get Smoltz out of the game early and get to a Braves' bullpen that is as bad as it's been in ten years, you have two options. (A third--pounding the ball against him--isn't available because you're offense is so bad.) First, you can go deep into pitch counts to raise his pitch count and tire him out. Unfortunately, your hitters probably aren't disciplined enough to do that. Second, you can play a version of the Rope-a-Dope Muhammad Ali employed against George Foreman.

To do this, ignore steps 1-3 and make it appear that you're one of the worst teams in the major leagues. Let your pitchers get banged around, let your hitters go down 1-2-3, and squander any offensive opportunity you have. See, this will put you down by anywhere between four and six runs, and you'll convince Bobby Cox that you're so bad that you can't possibly make up a four-run deficit.

5. Once Smoltz has left the game in the seventh despite throwing only 74 pitches, go back to step 1 and follow steps 1-3 religiously.

6. When you go up by one because you're now playing much better against a mediocre Braves bullpen, bring in your sure-fire closer to win the game and send the fans home with a smile on their faces.


The Nationals followed these tips, up until number six, that is. When Chad Cordero came in, I was sure that the Nationals would win. But when The 2000-Year-Old-Man, Julio Franco, line a single into center, I had the sinking feeling that something was very wrong. I felt better when Furcal and Giles flied out, but Chipper Jones scared me. Sure enough, Cordero left a fat fastball over the plate and Jones smashed it over the left-field wall to put the Braves up 8-7.

What had been a great comeback suddenly became one of the most depressing games I've ever seen. Everyone was silent, as if all of the air had been sucked from their bodies. What had been a celebration was now a wake, and I knew that the season had just effectively ended. Two minutes earlier I'd thought the Nats could still win the Wild Card Race. I'd thought they could ride this amazing comeback victory to rip the lead from teams like Houston and Philadelphia that didn't want it bad enough. We did want it bad; we wanted this playoff spot so bad that we'd just done the impossible--win a game against the Braves after being down 6-0.

Now, standing silently, watching Cordero look like he was about to cry, I knew the playoffs were almost certainly out of reach. A team that always seemed to come back when it was down for the count, was now lying flat on its back, and I knew that it wasn't getting up.

And then Andruw Jones hit a Cordero pitch into the upper deck, and I wanted to cry.