Simple game of follow the leader

By Michael Holley, Globe Columnist, 10/22/2003

MIAMI -- Every dynasty has a leader. Every dynasty has a strong personality on the throne, a hard-liner who gives you the feeling that the reign isn't going to end on his watch.

You expect the man holding the scepter and wearing the crown to be exceptional and imposing. You expect 6 feet 6 inches, 240 pounds, and maybe a cape. You don't necessarily expect to see the smiling/smirking face of Derek Jeter.

George Steinbrenner obviously has enough money to buy New York City and a mouth that's the size of it. Joe Torre can keep a clubhouse full of millionaires from coming to a boil. Bernie Williams and Jorge Posada are as familiar as October bunting at Yankee Stadium. But the leader of the Yankees, the one who keeps perpetuating the pinstriped mystique, is Jeter.

He was named the team's captain earlier this year. It was only about seven years too late. If you think back to the time when the Yankees truly started to irritate and scare you; when you think of one player whose absence would wreck the machine; and when you begin to recall the anatomy of some ridiculous Yankee rally, the mind's eye focuses on Jeter.

The New York shortstop was at it again last night at Pro Player Stadium. It was Game 3 of a sleepy World Series, and the Yankees and Marlins were in need of the same things. A strong cup of coffee. A splash of cold water to the face. A jolt. The game was tied at 1 in the eighth inning, and it had already been delayed 39 minutes by rain.

That's when Jeter, who has been in the postseason since his rookie year (1996) ended Josh Beckett's night. The Marlins' ace might have thrown a shutout at the Yankees if it hadn't been for the strange strike zone of plate umpire Gary Darling. In the fourth, Beckett walked in a run when Darling thought he saw ball four, high to Posada. The rest of Baseball America saw strike three, perfect and at the knees.

Anyway, there was Jeter in the eighth, digging in and instinctively calling for time -- even though he rarely needs it. He went with Beckett's pitch, sent it into the right-field corner, and wound up with a double. Florida manager Jack McKeon immediately called for Dontrelle Willis, and soon after that Hideki Matsui was driving in Jeter with the second, and winning, run of the night.

Do you want to know who scored the game's first run?

Jeter.

It was 2-1 after 8, 3-1 after Aaron Boone hit a solo homer in the ninth, and out of control when Bernie Williams hit a three-run homer in the ninth. Since it was a three-run homer, two men were on the bases for Williams. Do you want to know who one of them was?

Jeter.

The Yankees won this game, 6-1, and it is clear to everyone who doesn't have a South Florida connection that they are going to win this series. The Marlins are almost done chasing windmills. They don't have the starting pitching that the Yankees have. They are weak in relief, with Chad Fox and Ugueth Urbina holding key roles. Their lineup is not as deep as New York's. And although both managers become uncomfortable when this comes up, they are not nearly as rich as the Yankees.

They don't have a player like Jeter, either. Which is not to be taken as an insult.

"It took me 30-something years to get the World Series," said Torre. "He thinks it's an every-year experience. You look in his eyes, and you see something special, because he's a leader. He's been a leader since he was 20 years old."

Jeter is the 21st century version of what New York had in the 1970s with Reggie Jackson. Jackson was exciting to watch, even when he struck out. He took huge swings for the fences and liked to fall to the dirt theatrically when a pitch tailed inside. He told the world that he was the straw that stirred the drink, and he was. Jeter is a pretty mean straw, too, but he doesn't verbalize it.

While Jackson hit prodigious homers and wrestled -- verbally and physically -- with managers and teammates, Jeter carries himself like a money manager. He is polite but not verbose. He is charismatic but not impressively witty nor insightful. He is a little taller (6-2) and a little more dangerous than you would initially think. Give him a single in a playoff game and somehow the single becomes the hit that brings you down.

He's a pain. He's a nuisance. He's always starting something.

Reliever Jeff Nelson may be Jeter's teammate now, but he used to be part of planning meetings to stop the shortstop earlier this year. As a member of the Seattle Mariners, Nelson warned the Mariners in scouting meetings, "If there's one guy on the Yankees you can't let beat you, it's Jeter. They may have mashers, but watch out for No. 2." Nelson remembered one season -- "either '96 or '98, I'm not sure -- when he seemed to get every clutch, game-winning hit we needed."

When the Yankees were losing, 4-0, to the Red Sox in a game that still pains New England, Jackson was in Yankee Stadium watching next to general manager Brian Cashman.

"I was sitting there thinking the worst thoughts," he said. "The absolutely worst thoughts."

And then what happened?

"Jeter got a double," Mr. October said. "And then I thought we had a chance. I thought it was reasonable to think about a tie."

We know what happened after that. And no disrespect to the people filling the orange seats here -- no disrespect to Gloria Estefan and Yanni and Serena Williams -- we know what's going to happen if the Yankees end the series tomorrow night. They will dance in Florida. A lot of players will hang around and finally relax on the beach. A lot of them will lounge in offseason homes here, or start vacations with families who have been waiting all summer for some down time without baseball.

If the Yankees win, it will be because of a rally started by Jeter. He'll score a run or drive one in. He'll start a double play. Or something. And when it's time for the champagne to flow, naturally, he'll be the one who pops the cork.

Michael Holley is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is holley@globe.com.