Chicago Herald-American

This One's On Lou Piniella

There's not much to say about the Cubs' demise in the NLDS except that it was a pathetic effort by a team built to win a World Series only to crumble meekly when the whole world was watching. The Cubs not only got beat by an inferior team, they wilted like a two-week-old rose, botching tailor-made double-play balls, losing sight of the strike zone, looking at strikes down the middle, swinging at balls in the dirt and all this with a body language that told any Cub fan watching Saturday night that they had absolutely no shot of a comeback victory.

Alfonso Soriano's game-ending at-bat was a fitting conclusion to a series that adds another sorry chapter to the woeful legacy of the Cubs —  a half-hearted checked-swing on a fastball in the dirt that shouldn't have fooled a bad hitter, let alone one of the best hitters in baseball.  It seems like the more a team scoffs at the notion of a "curse," the more it does to promote the very idea they insist is malarky.

But as poorly as the Cubs played in this series, the blame for this debacle lies with Lou Piniella. He's the best manager the Cubs have had, maybe since Leo Durocher. And he's a likeable guy. But he's spent most of his time in Chicago still getting used to the fact that this is not Seattle or Cincinnati.

Lou's had a bug up his ass most of the year. He bristled at questions about his lineup as if it's nobody's business but his own -- excuse us for knowing what a No. 2 hitter's role is. He was annoyed by questions about Soriano as a leadoff hitter, Soriano's inadequacies as a fielder, Rich Harden's health and anything about Kosuke Fukudome. He flipped out when the Score's Jesse Rogers asked a perfectly legitimate question -- whether he thought about replacing Soriano in a game in May just before Soriano committed a crucial error that led to a loss. Ask him something he doesn't want to talk about and he says, "Let's leave it at that." When things got tight for the Cubs in late August, he started blowing off the daily pregame meeting with reporters. They last maybe 15 minutes, but it was too much for Lou.

And eventually,  Piniella's irritability set a bad tone for his team in the playoffs. When Mark DeRosa characterized Game 2 of the NLDS as "do-or-die," Piniella took exception and admonished DeRosa -- one of the team's dependable veteran leaders -- for his remarks. DeRosa, an articulate guy, regretted his choice of words, but basically was saying Game 2 was a must-win, which it pretty much was. But Piniella took it the wrong way and made one of the team's leaders look bad in the process. That couldn't have had a positive affect on a team with an already fragile psyche.

Piniella is an outstanding manager, but quickly becoming a crusty old guy. He reacts to things that happen in a game as if he were watching it at home. Like when Ronny Cedeno booted a possible double-play ball in Cincinnati, television cameras showed Piniella saying "[Bleep] me." After a key play in Saturday night's game, it was "Jesus [bleeping] Christ" after another Cub screw-up.

Those little things begin to add up when a team that had played so well most of the season plays so poorly when it really counts. Especially when it's the second consecutive season the Cubs win the NL Central, then get swept in the NLDS. Only this time it was Derrek Lee slamming his helmet to the ground after striking out instead of Ted Lilly slamming his glove to the ground that  was the snapshot of the Cubs' fuility.

And for the second year in a row, Piniella's judgment came into question in the playoffs. He stayed with a struggling Ryan Dempster in the fifth inning of Game 1. Dempster had already walked seven batters, but Piniella seemed to be letting him get one more out to qualify for the victory. James Loney instead hit a grand slam that gave the Dodgers a 4-2 lead and a momentum shift that carried the Dodgers to a stunning series sweep.

And Piniella also was criticized for not only playing Fukudome -- who it .188 in August and September -- in the first two games of the series but for batting him second in Game 1. He went 0-for-4 in both games at Wrigley Field.Niether issue is a slam dunk loser for Piniella, but they're both legitimate issues.

Piniella also sent the wrong message by claiming he didn't feel any pressure, with the Cubs down 0-2 and on the verge of yet another disappointing -- and that's putting it nicely -- postseason. It made it seem like whatever happened didn't matter, that his record as a manager is already established and anything he did with the Cubs is gravy.

Wrong answer. It would have been a lot better if he had said, "Hell yeah, I feel the pressure. I've won a World Series as a player and a manager. But if I fail here, I'll go down as just another Cubs manager who couldn't get it done. So you're damn right I feel pressure. This isn't the end of the world, but it means a lot to a lot of people and it's on us -- it's on me -- to get the job done."

Not only would that have been the right response, but it might have put a little more of the onus on his players. Some managers win because their players play for them as much as anyone else. But it's harder to play well for a manager who doesn't seem to want it as badly as you do.

So with another playoff disaster in the books, the Cubs face the challenge of starting all over again in 2009. But the biggest problem is not that Lee, Aramis  Ramirez, Dempster and Soriano will be a year older. Lou Piniella isn't getting any younger either.

The Rich Harden Dilemma

Rich Harden will not be healthy when the Cubs open the 2009 season. That's my guess after watching Harden struggle even while being babied in the final month of the season. He's hurt. Harden's history is that his injuries don't happen overnight. They develop slowly -- a twinge here, a little discomfort there -- and the next thing you know he's out for six weeks.

That seemed to be developing in September, when Harden pitched on 12 days rest, then six, six and nine prior to his start Saturday night in Los Angeles. And every time he was not as strong or as effective as he wasn in June, July and most of August. The tip-off is his first-inning peformance. Prior to Saturday night, opposing hitters were 1-for-39 (.026) against Harden in the first inning. The Dodgers were 3-for-6 (.500) and scored two runs.

(I just used 'Prior" and "Harden" in the same sentence. It wasn't intentional -- does that mean anything?)

But Harden's demise began in late August. In his first eight starts, Harden allowed only 3-of-27 hitters to reach base in the first inning. In his next five starts, including Saturday night, he allowed 11-of-26 hitters to reach base, inculding four hits, four walks and a hit batsman.

Here are the ominous numbers:

Rich Harden in the first inning:

                             IP H   R  ER  BB   K     ERA    WHIP   OBP

First 8 starts:      8   1   0   0     2   10     0.00    0.38    0.38

Next 5 starts:      5   4   3    2    4     4      3.60    1.60    1.80