Hats Off To Indians’ Resilience The Curses Of Colavito And 1954? Those Were Nothing For This Team

The historians and nostalgists and baseball is bursting at the flannels with them have busied themselves this World Series week, retracing the Cleveland Indians’ saga to the summer of 1954.

The Indians have come a long way. But a more poignant reference point, it says here, would be March 22, 1993.

Somehow, in the champagne-splashed celebration that followed the Indians’ American League pennant-clinching victory this week, no one was heard to mention the tragedy of the spring of 1993. No one talked about Little Lake Nellie. Or the boat. Or Cleveland pitchers Steve Olin and Tim Crews, who were killed in the accident. Or the families they left behind.

Manager Mike Hargrove, though, had to be thinking of it. ‘Grover had gathered his young team in the clubhouse that next spring day and told them that, somehow, they had to move on. Use a teammate’s shoulder to lean on. Stick together. Through tragedy, find strength.

And so, nobody talked about Olin and Crews, or the accident, the other night in Seattle. But they know.

The Indians have had to overcome more than Rocky Colavito’s curse and Vic Wertz’s Polo Grounds fly. They’ve had to endure more than the line drive that wrecked Herb Score’s eye or the decades wasted in front of empty seats.

Much more.

So what’s the big deal about Greg Maddux?

Unless I miss my guess, the World Series media will not easily embrace the Cleveland Indians in the days ahead. The silent scowls of Albert Belle and Eddie Murray don’t fill many notebooks. Kenny Lofton is no Jay Leno, either.

The clash of team personalities, however, figures to be riveting. Another log will be heaped on the fire in the eternal debate about good pitching stopping good hitting.

We’ll see Ted and Jane. And the Indians’ new palace, the Jake. And we’ll see pickets, we are told. This could end up being cartoon mascot Chief Wahoo’s last stand.

Since somebody brought up the subject, let me say I am outraged at the University of Southwestern Louisiana for its insensitivity in depicting my Acadian ancestors as “Ragin’ Cajuns.” In truth, there is not a single member of our family who is “ragin’,” except perhaps for my Uncle Buck when he would accidentally spill cayenne pepper in my grandmother’s gumbo.

But I digress.

Rather than write an impassioned piece about the alleged shameless depiction of American Indians, let me suggest that everyone rent the movie “Dances With Wolves.” Hopefully, its message will be more enduring than the Tomahawk Chop.

Hopefully, too, by the end of the weekend, people will be talking only about the baseball and not Chief Wahoo’s overbite. A classic Series might be about to unfold.

Atlanta backers argue that the Indians might have bashed their way to 100 victories, but they have yet to face a starting rotation like that of the Braves. Look what happened to the Cincinnati Reds.

But look what happened to the Colorado Rockies, too. The baby Rockies managed to find home plate and the power alleys against the Atlanta pitching staff. And since when did Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium become a cavernous pitcher-friendly park?

There are going to be home runs. Lots of home runs, it says here - innings of zeros, perhaps, interrupted by sporadic, towering home-run drives.

In that regard, the Braves are a lot like the Indians. Atlanta finished second in the National League in homers. The difference might be that, with Lofton, Cleveland is capable of manufacturing an occasional run or two, something the Braves seem to disdain.

The historians would tell you that it could come down to something as simple as that: a wild pitch here, an over-the-shoulder catch there.

Cleveland carries an Erie-barge full of bad karma into this World Series. The sweep in the 1954 Series. The Gil McDougald line drive. The Colavito-for-Harvey Kuenn trade. The Norm Cash-for-Steve Demeter trade. Super Joe Charbonneau. Nickel beer night.

Deep inside, though, Hargrove and the Indians know how far they’ve come, just since March 22, 1993.

How about the Indians in, oh, seven games?