NEW YORK -- They're playing a World Series without Bernie Williams.
They usually do.
Every season, all summer long and into the early fall, Williams helps carry the New York Yankees.
Then, in late October, they carry him.
The Yankees have won three of the past four World Series with Williams batting a combined .151 (8-for-53) with two homers and seven RBI.
Now, after their 3-2 Game 4 nail-biter over the New York Mets, the Yankees are one game away from another ring.
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| Bernie Williams has become a lost man when it comes to playing in the World Series. (AP) | |
In the process, Williams, one of the top players in the game, is 0-for-15 -- including 0-for-5 with runners in scoring position.
Still, manager Joe Torre doggedly clings to his vision of the regular-season Williams -- and it's a pretty good vision, too. Williams batted .307 with 30 homers and 121 RBI in 2000.
"My feeling is every time Bernie gets up there, he's going to get a hit," Torre said following Game 4. "I certainly have a lot of confidence in that, and I feel we're very fortunate that he has ... been blanked and we're sitting at 3-1."
What that is, quite simply and honestly, is a tribute to the Yankees' abundance of riches.
Naturally, this fall's oh-fer is eating at Williams. After he missed on a full-count pitch in the seventh that he thought he should have gotten -- he fouled it off instead -- Williams angrily stomped out of the batter's box and slapped at his bat.
But really, given his World Series history, this is nothing new.
Sensing Williams' growing frustration, Torre spoke with his center fielder before the game and told him to relax, and quit swinging so hard.
"I think he's trying to hit it in the parking lot instead of over the fence," Torre said. "It's easy to do. You're human. That's where the human stuff takes over.
"I thought he had good swings (in Game 3 on Tuesday), but they were a touch too hard, and he fouled a lot of balls off that he probably could have hit hard. Not that they would have been hits, but I think he would have made contact."
The general theory is that Williams, 32, is too pumped up.
And who would blame him? His World Series woes are piling up like lyrics in a bad country-and-western song.
In 1996 against Atlanta, he batted .167 (4 for 24) with a homer and four RBI.
In 1998 against San Diego, beset by personal problems at the time, he batted .063 (1-for-16) with a homer and three RBI.
And in 1999 against Atlanta, he batted .231 (3-for-13) but collected neither a home run nor an RBI.
This certainly isn't the real Williams. This is a man who won the 1998 AL batting title, he was named Most Valuable Player of the 1996 AL Championship Series against Texas and he's won three Gold Gloves.
Williams is a money player during the regular season.
And thanks to the way his teammates have carried him in the fall, he's become a money player in October, too.
But only in the sense of collecting that hefty World Series check.
There are worse things.