SECTION: SPORTS; Pg. 58 BLEACHER CREATURE

LENGTH: 624 words

HEADLINE: READY TO DRINK IT ALL IN

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:
YOU DON'T JUST go out and win these playoff games automatically, if you are a Bleacher Creature. You put in your practice time. You flex your drinking muscles. Hours before the first pitch, you walk down the secret stairs, in the back of a store just a block from the Stadium. And there, in a basement built of cinder blocks and equipped with a couple of well-worn pool tables, you get primed for another big postseason victory in the Bronx.

This is the pregame inner sanctum, where beer flows easily, straight from the bottle, and where IDs are never, ever demanded. A Creature here is judged by his drinking aptitude, not by his drinking age. It is the rascals' refuge from a dry neighborhood dripping with cops, and there is a sister establishment down the block where bets are taken, assessed, and occasionally paid out in full. "Tomorrow could be a problem," announced Anthony Griek, sitting against the basement wall, looking well beyond the Yankees' inevitable 4-2 victory.

Today, the Creatures intend to party through the afternoon at Down the Hatch in the Village, watching the Mets lose badly on television. The Creatures will toast every Mike Piazza strikeout, every Bobby Valentine frown. Then, we will try to stumble our way 150 blocks north to the Stadium - a dangerous trek with blood alcohol levels soaring - to wave farewell to the A's.

"The odds are 2-to-1 Tom Brown doesn't make it," Griek said, and that was a bet you might want to lay down at the sister establishment.

Tom, who has threatened to retire from the bleachers more times than he has heckled Bobby Bonilla, was the official winner of the Creature Survivor contest this season. Tina Lewis got voted off with 17 votes right at the start, and after that everybody knew it was Tom's game show to lose.

This was one of many important ways we amused ourselves, waiting for the games to finally start counting.

The A's, goes without saying, are not much of a challenge. Nobody cares about them. They will not be recognized, or even mocked, in this column. They have no fans, even in Oakland, except for the little drummer boys. There weren't any A's jackets or caps in the bleachers early last night - not a single one to steal, crumple or douse with fermented liquid.

Until the Mariners arrive next week, the season in Section 39 has been most notable for its season-ticket offering to the Creatures. We gobbled up the packages last Christmas, and fully expected smooth sailing through the playoffs.

But then, because we are nomadic Creatures by nature, the Yankees' faulty ticket delivery system failed to keep track of our whereabouts. Joe Lopez moved from Lincoln Park to Wayne, N.J. The tickets were delivered to Lincoln Park, where they promptly disappeared. Police reports were filed. Duplicates were printed.

Tina was profusely thankful to a couple of Yankee sources who had allowed her to purchase postseason tickets in advance, for $389, but those tickets were delivered to the restaurant where she had just been fired (and/or quit) for the eighth time.

Tina's long blue nails, coated with overlapping NYs, have made it difficult for her to find a new job. They came in handy, however, for securing her ticket, once it was located. The precious piece of waxed cardboard was affixed to a laminated container, a place of high honor.

THEN MIKE MARCH (looks like Chuck Knoblauch, has been benched by Creatures like Knoblauch) tried to ruin everything, for Tina and the rest. He pointed out that the ticket was blue and orange. Met colors.

"Maybe they think there's going to be a Subway Series," Knoblauch said.

We laughed at Knoblauch's funny joke. Why not? As always, the Yankees were a step ahead of the Mets by the end of the night.

LOAD-DATE: October 7, 2000