The Texas Rangers

ARLINGTON, Texas – Bud Selig saved them once, a $40 million act of preservation/charity the Texas Rangers used to finance Cliff Lee, a World Series appearance and, it says here, a one-way rail ticket for Tom Hicks.

Mike Maddux, the pitching coach for the Rangers (and therefore the guy whose job became a lot easier every fifth day), subsequently nominated Selig for team MVP, and not because Selig drove in only one fewer run in the series than Vladimir Guerrero.

For all the creative scheming and courageous moves by the Rangers’ front office, for all the guidance by the relentlessly upbeat field manager, for all the hard play by a hungry and opportunistic roster, without Lee the Rangers were the Cincinnati Reds: Good enough to win a mediocre division, not quite good enough to do anything with it.

So Selig basically cut a check. By softening the blow of Rangers bankruptcy, smoothing the transition of the Greenberg-Ryan group and without regard to under-their-breath griping by other owners, he’d done Club Metroplex one very merciful solid. He’d made them October relevant.

Selig grinned warily at Maddux’s observation, knowing the same appraisal might be repeated – in less flattering light – in a place such as Tampa Bay.

“I want to thank him for that,” Selig said. “I did at the time what I would do today.”

But, tomorrow?

Dear old Uncle Bud won’t save them again. His sugar-daddying days in Texas are over. (He’s saving up for the Dodgers.)

When the gate opens on the big horse’s free agency, the Rangers are on their own.

That’s OK, though. For these Rangers are past the time of bailouts. The baseball operations department had outgrown the owner long ago, it having turned his knack for fiscal mismanagement into a sustainable model of baseball competency. Over time, GM Jon Daniels and assistant Thad Levine – along with team president Nolan Ryan – had endeavored to acquire and develop pitching and up-the-middle talent, then crept up on the American League when that arrived, and in the finest days in the organization’s history beat back the Tampa Bay Rays and New York Yankees.

Say what you will about a World Series that few seemed to watch, but the San Francisco Giants and Rangers deserved to be there. They were smarter than everyone else. They were daring. They played better. And, yes, they were lucky. When Pat Burrell, Cody Ross(notes), Aubrey Huff, Andres Torres(notes) and Edgar Renteria(notes) help drive the Giants through October, and Barry Zito, Pablo Sandoval(notes) and Aaron Rowand don’t, that’s lucky. When your owner goes belly up in the middle of your pennant race and the commissioner floats you the scratch for Cliff Lee, that’s lucky.

But, you know, Jack Zduriencik, who a few months earlier was believed to be rewriting the book on ballclub building with the Seattle Mariners, could have cared less about Chapter 11. The reason he dealt Lee to the Rangers was the prospects. The Rangers (in his estimation) offered better players. And the reason the Rangers had those players was the model, born years before. And the reason Cliff Lee is important to the Rangers but not vital, is that same model.

In the hours after Game 5, the San Francisco Giants were rolling up on San Francisco City Hall, having cruised the gantlet of confetti and adulation and smoke wisps left over from the Monday night street fires. The Rangers were at their ballpark, forcing smiles with the locals in Lot J.

Maybe that’s sad symbolism for the folks who took a few minutes from their Wade Phillips effigy-quilting to wave goodbye to the 2010 Rangers, to their Vladdy (whose $9 million option for 2011 was declined Wednesday), and perhaps to their ace. It shouldn’t be. Hell, it’s easy to watch bad ballplayers go.

Members of the new ownership group took turns in recent weeks promising a commitment to signing Lee, but that and $100 million will barely get you into the room. The Rangers might have reached the World Series by galloping across Yankee soil, but this is a whole new season, and in this one they aren’t even in the Yankees’ league.

One of the new owners – Bob Simpson – told the Forth Worth paper, “We’re going to go after Cliff Lee hard. And we have the financial firepower to do that.”

A couple days later, Ryan promised, “We’re not going to take the attitude this offseason because we got to the World Series that we don’t have to be as diligent about what we’re going to do this offseason. We have to, I think, even be more aggressive and try to fill any hole that we potentially may have that we think that we’re vulnerable at.”

The fact is, if Lee is hunting CC Sabathia money and the Yankees are willing to look past his age (32) and what that might mean for the rest of its aging roster, the Rangers will lose. That’s a shame, of course. Maybe Lee has grown fond of Arlington, just as it has fallen for him, and he chooses familiarity over a few extra dollars.

It’s great that there’s still some hope for that, which in itself is progress for the Rangers. Besides, at a time when being a football town means a 1-6 record and a lame-duck coach, it’s not such a bad thing to be across from the big football stadium, honoring a really good baseball season, and just standing around in Lot J.

Meanwhile, the fans of those squads were looking at the prospect of spending the winter with the warm memories of a team that earned a playoff berth but the cold reality of ultimately falling short. In an attempt to bring some closure between franchise and follower, we asked a blogger from each team to write a cathartic missive to their 2010 squads.

Finishing our run of all 29 ultimately disappointed teams is Benjamin Morris of Lone Star Ball. He finally tasted the World Series this season and he liked it.

Oh boy, did he like it.  

Dear Texas Rangers,

Oh, baby. We've been through some bad times together. So bad. It's been like being married to a mean drunk. Every year I thought it would be different, and every year you kicked me square in the nuts. It was my lack of commitment to my therapist, I think, that kept me coming back to you. Remember when you signed Richard Hidalgo to be our designated hitter? Remember when Roger Pavlik went to the All Star game after putting up some gaudy win totals and a 5.50 ERA? Or, heaven forbid, remember when we had to pay the best player in baseball to play against us in competitive games?
 

You aren't those Rangers anymore. Your pitching is respectable. Your defense is, except for a certain face of the franchise, wonderful. It's like you're a whole different team than the one I grew up with. You took off the adult diapers, put down the Mad Dog 20/20, and suddenly you're a date I'm not embarrassed to be seen with, especially in October.

But all good things must come to an end and parting is always such sweet sorrow. The World Series is over, and we didn't get that champagne shower we've been waiting so long for. It's time to take a break before we try again next year.

Josh Hamilton had an MVP-caliber season. We got to enjoy, maybe for just a few months, one of the best pitchers in baseball taking the hill for us every fifth day. Colby Lewis showed up from Japan and proved to be one of the shrewdest free-agent signings in years. C.J. Wilson, our left-handed setup guy, became a legit No. 2 pitcher.

And Nelson Cruz ... boy, oh, boy, Nelson Cruz. Nellie Cruz, a part of the deal that brought us Carlos Lee(notes) the last time the Rangers were buyers at the trade deadline, a guy that had a scarlet "AAAA" stitched on his jersey not too long ago, a guy that passed through waivers ... this guy won four games for us on the final swing of the bat in 2010. Nothing is sweeter than a walk-off win. Well, except for four of them.

The Bad Times: It wasn't all wine and roses, of course. You've turned into a sexy b----, Rangers, but you still have your warts.

Your bullpen, in the playoffs, was not your most attractive feature. Whether we're talking about the meltdown in Game 1 of the ALCS, where a great outing by CJ Wilson was wasted by the bullpen, or Game 2 of the World Series when Derek Holland walked three batters (plating a run) and then Mark Lowe showed up with his gas can and walked another before allowing a two-run single. All told, eight consecutive batters would reach base in that inning and the Giants would score seven runs with two outs in the inning.

Also, let's be honest here, Vladimir Guerrero is getting a little long in the tooth. Maybe with a more formidable hitter in the cleanup spot, everybody sees better pitches. But frankly, with your 3-4-5 hitters taking the World Series off, you didn't deserve to win. Mitch Moreland can't do everything himself from the bottom of the lineup.

It's Not All You: Hey, Franky Francisco not being available for the postseason wasn't your fault (it wasn't, was it?). With our most reliable set-up arm out, some late-inning heartache was to be expected, I guess. The two Darrens — O'Day and Oliver — had been ridden hard this year, maybe they were just out of gas.

And of course, Tom Hicks driving the team into bankruptcy, well, what could we do about that? You had to be creative to add the pieces you did. Throwing extra prospects into deals so the selling teams would pick up salary, sending Millwood to the hapless Orioles so we could afford to take a flier on Harden, "forgetting" to sign the check we sent to TXU Energy ... sure, some of it worked out, but imagine what you'll be able to do next season without having to play shell games with money!

Shape up or ship out: Look, Rangers, I love you just the way that you are. I would love you a bit more if Michael Young(notes) weren't playing third base. Seeing some key hits shoot past a diving Michael Young or over a leaping Michael Young in the playoffs was a little hard to handle. A right-handed bat that can play corner outfield and maybe first base would be nice. A legitimate offer to Cliff Lee, even if he doesn't accept, would make us believe that you've committed to change. Just don't bring back Vlad, OK?  Remember Sammy Sosa?  Remember how that worked out? We're past those days, Rangers.

See you next April, 

Benjamin Morris