I wound up in Los Angeles, because not only did the game feature a pair of contending teams (if just barely, in the case of the Dodgers), it also brought both Barry Bonds and Vin Scully into my home. Scully may be 73 years old, but I watch a lot of baseball games on TV, and I can tell you that he's still one of the best in the business. Here's one example ... The Dodgers scored seven runs in the sixth, benefiting from a swinging-bunt single, a passed ball, a broken-bat bloop single, and a lollipop changeup that Chan Ho Park slapped through the infield. That gave them a 7-1 lead as the Diamondbacks were getting crushed by the Brewers. If both games held, the Dodgers would be only 3½ games out of first place. And yet Scully, the Dodgers broadcaster, observed, "And so a good run of luck for Jim Tracy, but it could be too late."

See, Vin Scully has seen a lot of baseball, somewhere in the neighborhood of eight thousand games. And while he'd love to see the Dodgers mount a furious comeback and gain entry to the postseason derby, he also knows that third-place teams don't often make up 3½-game deficits in nine days. More to the point, he doesn't insult our intelligence by suggesting otherwise.

As for Bonds ... look, I don't want to belabor this point today -- I'm sure I'll have plenty of time for belaboring later -- but there's something absolutely bizarre happening in the baseball world right now. It seems that there are actually some sentient beings on this planet who think that somebody besides Barry Bonds is the MVP in the National League this year, even though he's putting together one of the four or five best seasons ever. In fact, this notion is so utterly preposterous that if Bonds doesn't win the award, I'm going to resign my membership in the Baseball Writers Association of America.

That is, I would resign my membership if I were a member; they won't let me in. So let's say this, then ... if Bonds doesn't win the MVP, I'll turn up my nose with disdain when the BBWAA's emissaries finally come crawling to ask me to join.

Unless they beg.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25
It took the Phillies 20 years, but they've finally won me over.

For the first 14 years of my life, I didn't spend even a single moment of my life thinking about the Philadelphia Phillies. They didn't play my Royals in the summer and they didn't play in the World Series -- in fact, they hadn't played in a World Series since my parents were small children -- and so I didn't pay them any attention. It wasn't that I didn't care about them; rather, I didn't know about them.

No, it wasn't until 1980 that the Phillies made any sort of impression upon my consciousness. That fall, my Kansas City Royals finally reached the World Series after four years of bitter disappointment. And their opponents? The Philadelphia Phillies, who themselves had finally reached the World Series after four years of bitter disappointment.

The Royals lost to the Phillies, and my memories of the Series are almost all painful: Del Unser rapping pinch-hit doubles off Dan Quisenberry not once, but twice ... Tug McGraw striking out Willie Wilson ... Dickie Noles trying to kill George Brett with a fastball ... Pete Rose spiking the ball at first base, again and again and again ...

Six games of Fall Classic baseball, yet only thoughts of Willie Mays Aikens bring a smile to my memory's face. He lined a ball into the left-field gap to win Game 3 for the Royals, and I was in the left-field seats for Game 4, and saw him blast a couple of homers as the Royals evened the Series at two games apiece.

But the Royals lost the World Series. And so I hated the Phillies.

I hated the Phillies just as I'd hated the Yankees -- who beat the Royals in three straight American League Championship Series from 1976-78 -- until 1980, when the Royals finally beat them. I hated the Phillies just as I'd hated the Kansas City Chiefs, the Miami Dolphins, the Pittsburgh Steelers, the Oakland Raiders ... and extra credit to those of you who know that what those NFL teams have in common is that they beat the Minnesota Vikings -- my Minnesota Vikings -- in the Super Bowl.

As compelling as the Phillies were in 1983 -- the so-called "Wheeze Kids" featured ex-Big Red Machinery Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, and Tony Perez -- I still hated them, and I rejoiced when the Orioles topped them in the World Series.

As compelling as the Phillies were in 1993, I found myself charmed not a whit by them. Where others saw a colorful crew characterized by a refreshing genuineness, I saw a troop of buffoons with bad haircuts and disgusting gobs of chaw stuck to their jerseys. And so while I didn't exactly rejoice when they lost to the Blue Jays -- something about SkyDome just rubbed me the wrong way -- I didn't shed many tears, either.

But 1980 was a long time ago, John Kruk now gets paid for talking rather than hitting, and I like the Phillies. There are only two pennant races left this season, and we've got the Phillies to thank for one of them.

Truth be told, the Phillies really aren't very good. They've outscored their opponents by 30 runs ... which is about what the Red Sox, the Angels, the Twins, and the Giants have done this season. All that doesn't mean much now, though. To cap their surprising run, all the Phillies have to do is win more games than the Braves for the next 12 days ... and it's not exactly like the Braves have any claim on anything. Not this year.

Yes, the Braves are going to lead the National League in ERA this year, just as they've done in seven of the last nine years. Thanks to John Schuerholz's odd obsession with players closer to Social Security than adolescence, the Braves currently rank 13th in the NL in run production, right behind powerhouses Cincinnati and Milwaukee. There are few bigger fans of Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Leo Mazzone, and Bobby Cox than I. Still, I have to ask, do we really want to see the Braves in the postseason again? Aside from the odd spectacle of John Smoltz finishing games rather than starting them, do the Braves have anything, anything at all, to offer us that we've not seen before?

This is my third straight column about the National League East, and for that you've got my apologies. But let's be honest here, folks. Aside from the National League East, what else do we, as baseball fans, have? Yes, the NL West is pretty hot, but the race there seems almost a sideshow, with Barry Bonds the main attraction under the big top. Don't you wish he'd just break the damn record, so we can get back to the important stuff? In the meantime, Braves-Phillies is the best thing going. And for the first time in 35 years, my phavorites are the Phils.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24
On September 11, 1987, the New York Mets opened a critical series against the St. Louis Cardinals at Shea Stadium. In 1986 the Mets had romped to the division title with 108 victories, and eventually they won the World Series. But the Mets stumbled out of the gate in '87, and on July 23 they found themselves 10½ games behind the Cardinals. On September 11, though, the Mets had won 15 of their last 22 and trailed the first-place Cards by just 1½ games.

So if the Mets could win on the 11th, they'd be just a half-game out, and everyone's preseason favorites just might be on their way to another title.

Except it didn't happen. The Mets did grab a 3-0 lead in the bottom of the first when Keith Hernandez knocked in Tim Teufel, and Darryl Strawberry followed with a home run. The Cards scratched out a run in the second, but Mookie Wilson got it back with a solo homer in the Mets' half. And with New York's Ron Darling cruising, it was still 4-1 in the sixth inning ... when disaster struck Darling. Diving for Vince Coleman's bunt, Darling tore thumb ligaments and was forced to leave the game -- and as it turned out, the season -- in the seventh.

The Mets still led 4-1 after eight innings. St. Louis shortstop Ozzie Smith led off the ninth with a walk, but Roger McDowell got the next two hitters, leaving Smith at second with two outs. One out away. Willie McGee singled to plate Ozzie, though ... and then Terry Pendleton blasted a fly ball over the center-field fence to tie the game. The Mets got a couple of men on base in their half of the ninth, but the rally ended when Hernandez grounded out to first base. And so they went to the 10th, the score 4-4.

Jesse Orosco -- forever after known as "Messy Fiasco" by some Mets fans -- came on to pitch for New York, and coughed up three singles and a couple of runs. The Mets went down in order in the bottom of the 10th. They were two-and-a-half games behind the Cardinals, and wound up the season three off the pace.

Sunday afternoon, history came somewhat close to repeating itself.

There are still two long -- or short, depending on your perspective -- weeks remaining in the season, but yesterday's game at Shea Stadium just might be the one game that we remember from the National League East pennant race. Or at the least, it might be the one game that Mets fans remember.

With the Mets leading 4-1 after eight innings, Braves second baseman Marcus Giles led off against Armando Benitez, fell behind in the count 0-and-2 ... and worked a walk. Julio Franco flied to right field and Chipper Jones struck out. One out away ... but Brian Jordan cranked Benitez's second pitch, a slider, to deep left-center for a two-run homer.

That made it 4-3 with rookie Wes Helms due next. Helms bats right-handed, and at that point Bobby Cox had three obvious pinch-hitter candidates still on his bench:

                OPSvsRHP  OPSvsLHP
B.J. Surhoff       754       573
Dave Martinez      785       666
Keith Lockhart     618       444

You're not going to use Lockhart because ... well, you're not going to use him because he can't hit. So Cox had to choose between Surhoff and Martinez, both of them 37-year-old, left-handed hitters with similar season and career stats. Martinez gets on base somewhat more often than Surhoff, and Surhoff hits home runs somewhat more often than Martinez. With Andruw Jones due next, Cox, perhaps figuring that his best bet was for Martinez to reach and Jones to hit a homer, sent Martinez to the plate.

At which point, Bobby Valentine had a choice of his own. If he left Benitez out there, he would face Martinez and, if Martinez reached, the right-handed-hitting Jones. If Valentine brought in lefty John Franco, who was plenty warm in the bullpen, Franco would almost certainly face Martinez, because Eddie Perez -- who had batted only twice all season -- was the only established right-handed hitter remaining on Cox's bench.

Valentine stuck with Benitez, and Martinez walked on a 3-2 pitch. With Jones due up, again Valentine had a choice between Benitez and Franco (there wasn't a right-hander ready in the pen). Valentine stuck with Benitez, Jones singled to left, and pinch-runner Wilson Betemit stopped at second base.

Paul Bako was scheduled to hit next, and Bobby Cox used his final ace: B.J. Surhoff. And once again, Valentine left Benitez in to face the left-handed hitter.

Would Franco have been the better choice?

Their season stats before the game:

         IP  Hits  BB  SO  HR   ERA
Benitez  73   53   38  86  11  2.96 
Franco   52   54   18  50   7  3.78

There's a reason that Benitez leads the National League with 41 saves; he's overpowering. But Franco's been very good, too. And more to the point, this season Franco had held left-handed hitters to a 614 OPS, while Benitez had allowed lefties a relatively-hefty 767 OPS.

And of course, all this leaves aside the facts that (1) Benitez had pitched in four of the last five games, and (2) Benitez hadn't pitched well in this game. As Braves broadcaster Don Sutton cannily observed, Benitez had thrown very few fastballs in the strike zone, presumably because his fastball was too hittable to throw in the strike zone. His heat was still hot, but it wasn't quite as hot as usual.

Benitez remained in the game, Surhoff singled, and the Braves tied the game. Franco finally came in, Perez pinch-hit for Lockhart (who had batted for Rey Sanchez), and Franco struck Perez out. John Smoltz shut down the Mets in the bottom of the ninth, and the game went to extra innings.

The Mets lost it in the 11th. At 4:42 Eastern Time, Brian Jordan hit Jarrod Riggan's slider over the left-field fence for his second homer of the game, giving the Braves a 5-4 lead that John Smoltz preserved in the bottom of the 11th.

At 4:44 Eastern Time, Philadelphia catcher Johnny Estrada, batting for the first time in the game, hit a first-pitch fastball over the right-field fence for a walk-off homer that gave the Phillies a 5-4 victory over the Marlins. The Phillies, like the Braves, had tied the game in the ninth inning and then won in extras.

And so this September day, which might have ended with the Mets merely two-and-a-half games behind the Braves and two games behind the Phillies, ended instead with the Mets four-and-a-half games behind the Braves (and, not insignificantly, four behind the Phillies). And yet something tells me that this will not be the September day that Mets fans remember.