Lidge the Phillies' comforting blanket

ON FOOTBALL

If Phillies fans are still extremely nervous about their team's fortunes in this World Series — even after a solid Game 1 win, 3-2, in St. Petersburg, among the cowbells, Wednesday night — I completely understand.

After all, in the franchise's dismal 125-year history, it's won a single championship in 1980. (Yep, that's right: Even the lowly Cubs, with their back-to-back titles in 1907 and '08, have twice as many.)

So "optimism" is not a word thrown out in the streets of Philly, especially when not a single of the city's four major-sports teams has won a championship since the 76ers in 1983. There will be no celebrating, no champaign toasts, no burning of couches/cars/cheese steaks until the last out is recorded, until the Phillies have won four games against the Rays.

That's just knowing your team.

But if there is a comfort blanket on this Philadelphia team, someone whom Philly fans can place at least a tad of trust in, it's Brad Lidge.

Forget Mariano Rivera (and his Hall-of-Fame career and dominance in the playoffs). Forget Francisco Rodriguez (and his single-season saves record). At this moment in time, Lidge is the best closer in baseball.

What makes a closer good — besides, of course, not blowing a save all season? When you're watching a dominant ninth-inning pitcher, you just know that he will get the job done. Your heart might tell you there's a chance he will slip, he will lose the slim one-run lead thanks to one bad pitch, but your mind — your most trusted source of smarts — tells you there's no chance. It's over.

That's what I think when Lidge takes the mound.

So when the Rays brought up the middle of their lineup — Carlos Pena, Evan Longoria and Carl Crawford — to face Lidge in the bottom of the ninth, I was positive he would finish the job. I didn't necessarily think he'd be as dominant as he was, striking out Pena and Longoria on nasty sliders before getting a foul popout to close it, but I knew he'd finish the Phillies' victory.

Only the best closers give me that feeling. This season, anyway, Lidge is one of those guys.

He has all the key ingredients of a top-notch closer:

1. He gets ahead in counts and has a good fastball that he's not afraid to throw down Main Street for that first strike.

2. He has the nasty "out pitch," his slider, which fools hitters even when they're expecting it.

3. He has a great presence on the mound, never getting flustered when a baserunner or two may reach.

4. Finally, he has proved over the past couple weeks that he's just as good in October as he is during the regular season. All closers must prove this before they can gain elite status.

Lidge's steadiness has to be especially cathartic for Phillies fans who witnessed the Mitch Williams Debacle in the 1993 Fall Classic. That memorable series was capped off with Williams giving up a ninth-inning, three-run homer to Toronto's Joe Carter, which won the Blue Jays a second consecutive championship in six games.

It was Williams' second blown save of the series. In an incredible Game 4, Toronto came back from a 14-9 deficit with six runs in the eighth inning, three off Williams, to win 15-14. Williams got the loss and death threats from angry fans.

The 1993 experience had to have scarred many Philly fans for life, and there may be some who will never trust another Phillies closer. But Lidge is one man who can be trusted, if "trust" is indeed still a word in the City of Brotherly Love.

Unlike the long-haired, often erratic Williams, Lidge is calm, cool and collected when on the mound. Sure, he shows emotion after a big strikout or a critical double play, but that's natural and it doesn't affect his approach toward the next hitter.

Now, I have to stand by my predicition that Tampa Bay will win the Series in six games, but let me add this: If the Rays want to win their first World Series, they better figure out a way to get leads before the eight inning. Yep, even before Lidge takes the stroll in from the bullpen, because he's got a nasty setup man in Ryan Madson, who set down three consecutive Rays Wednesday.

Madson and Lidge give Philly a nasty eight-nine punch at the end of games. A comforting combo, if you will, for those never-been-kissed Phillies followers.

This Fall Classic could be dramatic, could be heart-throbbing. But this much I'm convinced of, Philadelphia:

There will be no repeat of the end of the '93 Series. Your closer won't be on the mound, watching as an opposing hitter rounds the bases celebrating a walkoff dinger.

Booing Jones represents pure ignorance

ON BASEBALL

One day during some future baseball season, Tigers fans will look up to the sky and ask, "Jonesy, where art thou?"

Unfortanetly, as mentioned, that day will be in the future. As for the present, Comerica Park patrons appear to love Todd Jones as much as the Michigan economy.

That, also, is unfortunate. And ignorant. And just plain stupid. Whenever Jonesy gives up a ninth-inning hit, loud groans are heard all over the ballpark. And when he allows a run -- OH MY GOD, A RUN!!! -- the booing starts. Never mind that it might not of been his fault. In Detroit, if Jones is on the mound, he's the scapegoat. No ifs, ands or buts.

Take Thursday's devastating 7-6, 11-inning loss to the Twins: Jones entered in the top of the ninth inning with Detroit holding a 6-4 lead. He promptly gave up singles to the first two batters, and both hitters ended up scoring to tie the game. What the average fan in attendance couldn't seem to grasp, however, is that if not for right fielder Matt Joyce's gaffe on the second single, which allowed the first baserunner to score and the batter to advance to third, Jones would have gotten the save.

Because the following batter flied out to left field, which in reality was a sacrifice fly but should have been, simply, the first out of the inning, and should have held the runner at first. The next batter grounded back to Jones, which -- in an errorless world -- would have been a game-ending double play.

So blame Joyce, not Jones, for what transpired. When fans mercilessly "booooooooooed!!!!!" Jones after he was pulled following a two-out single, they, apparently, didn't understand how the lead had ultimately been lost.

Ignorance.

Tigers fans have been hating Jones for years, yet he continues to deliver for their team. Not brilliantly, that's for sure, but he gets the job done. A hardworking, blue-collar city like Detroit should appreciate that. (Then again, with ticket prices and the economy these days, most fans who can afford to sit within shouting distance of the diamond are from Rochester.)

Jonesey doesn't strikeout a lot of guys like fan-favorite Joel Zumaya. He doesn't have a pitch that makes you exclaim, "Wow, that had more movement than a cakewalk full of 5-year-olds." But he gets guys out. And he saves games. Basically, he does his job.

Cue the evidence trailer:

Thanks to Joyce's dumb play, Jones has now converted only 16 of 18 save opportunities. Of the 24 closers with at least 16 saves, only two -- the Yankees' Mariano Rivera, only the best finisher, arguably, of all time; and Philadelphia's Brad Lidge -- have fewer blown saves.

Granted, Jones' 16 saves ranks just 23rd in the majors, but you can only do your job when you get the opportunity, right? Maybe the Tigers should experiment with more close games.

You want more? OK, I'll go back a year. At the young age of 39, Jones converted 38 of 44 chances in 2007. Of the 18 closers with at least 30 saves, nine had more blown saves than Jones' six. Only two of the eight pitchers with more saves had fewer blown saves. Sounds like a guy to boo, huh?

Listen, I understand where the fans are coming from. They want young blood. They're sick of the mustache and the fastballs that barely break 90 mph these days. They can't wait for Zumaya to become Detroit's closer, to run in from the bullpen as "Wild Thing" blares from the speakers. I can't even remember if music is played when Jones makes his bland entrance.

There's no spectacle, nothing to get excited about. Just nervousness, just tension. Now what kind of ninth-inning party is that??

I hear you, I hear you. And Zumaya will get his chance. Jones ain't getting younger, and at some point he's gonna say, "You know what, I don't need this any more." But for now, he's the best closer the Tigers got, because Zumaya has a tendency to hurt himself playing "Guitar Hero" and carrying around boxes (always a dangerous activity) and hard-throwing Fernando Rodney has this tendency to walk opposing batters (translation: not good).

So deal with it, folks. Todd Jones has been the Tigers closer, and he'll continue to fill that role for the time being.

If you want to boo him, fine. But just realize that a loss isn't always his fault.

And know that when it comes to saving games, he remains one of baseball's best.