THE MILD CARD RACE

By Steve Wulf

IF BASEBALL STAGED AN EXCITING pennant race and nobody came, would it still make a noise? That philosophical question is being posed as the regular season dwindles toward its conclusion next Sunday. Thanks to the introduction of the sacrilege known as the wild card--the best second-place team in each league will join the three division winners in the postseason--clubs that would ordinarily be playing out the string are still scrambling for that last coveted, though maligned, seat. "We'll take it any way we can get it," says New York Yankee first baseman Don Mattingly, who can taste his first October in 13 seasons. "Purists may not like the idea of the wild card, but I've learned to love it."

The game is still reeling from the strike that canceled last year's World Series, but it somehow lucked into a fascinating cast for postseason play. The American League will have the Boston Red Sox, who haven't won a world championship since 1918; the joke turned juggernaut Cleveland Indians; the Seattle Mariners and/or the California Angels, both of whom are strangers to the World Series; and perhaps the Yankees. The National League will have the pleasure of the company of pitcher Greg Maddux and the Atlanta Braves; the return of Cincinnati's Big Red Machine; and a choice of two of these three: the three-year-old Colorado Rockies, the Los Angeles Dodgers (Nomo, no less) and the Houston Astros. Had Major League Baseball retained the old two-division setup in each league, with no wild card, the Red Sox would not be in the postseason, and the mediocre Philadelphia Phillies would be.

The problem is that few people seem to care. When the Astros, only a game behind in the wild-card race, beat the Chicago Cubs on Sept. 18, there were 10,848 lonely souls in the Astrodome. When the Kansas City Royals, who were still in contention for the A.L.'s fourth spot, fell to the Minnesota Twins in the 12th inning on Sept. 20, fewer than 1,000 fans remained in Royals Stadium. Most distressing for baseball, though, was the pathetic support given the Yankees as they swept a four-game series from the still world-champion Toronto Blue Jays last week: 69,303 in aggregate attendance, or an average of 17,326 a game. Granted, owner George Steinbrenner does everything he can to knock the Bronx and nothing to promote the Bombers, but the weather was glorious, the situation enticing and the scalpers so generous that they were selling tickets for less than face value. Baseball is clearly in trouble when the most famous team in the world in one of the biggest cities in the world draws 17,000 for a big game.

"There may not be as many fans as we like," says Mattingly, "but the ones who come have been loud, knowledgeable and supportive." He has a point. At the game on Sept. 20, the crowd cheered louder and louder for starter Sterling Hitchcock as he dazzled the Blue Jays inning after inning. In the upper deck, where a fan could stretch out, enjoy the game and catch a foul ball without much competition, two teenage girls serenaded Yankee batters by mellifluously calling out their names: "Mattingly ... Strawberry...Velarde..." In the Hitchcockian suspense of the ninth inning, the fans were on their feet as the chubby lefthander retired the Jays and completed his 2-1 victory. The fans who left that night were the kind of fans who come back and maybe bring a friend. Perhaps what the owners and players had in mind when they destroyed the game last year was a form of wildlife management, in which they burned down the forest so that it would come back stronger and more vital...nah.

The one place in which the wild card has made a difference is Seattle. After the All-Star break, the Mariners acquired pitcher Andy Benes and outfielder Vince Coleman in the hope that they would help secure the wild-card berth. Winning the A.L. West seemed out of the question, because as late as Aug. 9, the Angels led the division by 11 games. But then California did a free fall, and suddenly the Mariners found themselves in the hunt for first. The turnstiles in the Kingdome haven't exactly been smoking, but last week a measure to raise Seattle's sales tax in order to finance a new stadium did not meet with the resounding defeat that was projected. In fact, the vote was so close, absentee ballots were being counted to determine the outcome. Had the vote gone heavily against the ball park, management said it would move the franchise. So, in a sense, the wild card saved the Mariners for Seattle.

Or maybe it was the obituary notice for 80-year-old Seattle resident Thomas Fallihee. "In lieu of flowers," read the obit, "a yes vote on the new baseball stadium would be appreciated." Thus, Fallihee cast the ultimate in absentee ballots. Too bad so many other baseball fans are voting in absentia too.

--With reporting by John McGrath/Seattle

With reporting by JOHN MCGRATH/SEATTLE