SECTION: SPORTS; Pg. 93 BLEACHER CREATURE

LENGTH: 574 words

HEADLINE: GLORIOUS PAST IS CREATURES' COMFORT

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:
The days of hanging out before the game at the Sandbox Suites are pretty much done. That's because there is now a row of cop cars parked where Creatures big and small once loitered in a nearby playground to hoist a few fermented beverages.

"Looks like the battlefield from 'Braveheart,' " Mike Donahue said of the scene. "I'm expecting to see a line of archers there any minute." This is one of the many prices we are paying for increased security. Call it the cost of freedom.

Instead, to start yet another postseason, the Creatures gathered and imbibed last night in the basement of an undisclosed Bronx bodega, a hideaway every bit as secret and elusive as Bin Laden's cave. Worn pool tables and a couple of wooden chairs are the only furnishings. A floor above, a policeman innocently purchased iced tea, not knowing what lies beneath.

There was no use trying to find us. No amount of intelligence could root out the problems that we posed. Conventional intelligence never has anything to do with the Creatures. We're all about street smarts, and a weary, veteran savvy.

Leaning against a cinder-block wall, wearing his, "Alcatraz Psycho Ward Outpatient," T-shirt, Tom Brown admitted to being a little jaded by the never-ending run of Yankee championships.

"I don't even tape the games anymore," Sheriff Tom said. "I mean, when your playoff collection is bigger than your porno collection, it's time to stop."

Not only do the Creatures have to battle the sheer redundancy of this dynastic success, we also have to hold the same, stupid discussions with ignorant outsiders. People come up to Section 39ers and say, "It's going to be tough this year." We have to pretend they have a point, when we fully know another banner is as inevitable as Halloween.It's going to take some time, and some healing, before everybody is in true postseason form. Donald Simpson has to walk past Ground Zero every day on his way to work. "They're still digging up bodies there," he said. Like the rest of us, Simpson doesn't watch baseball the same way.

So here is the irony: We don't thirst this autumn for another championship, the way we once did. Yet we must continue to heckle people with both passion and precise taunts, because our reputation as the best fans in the world is at stake.

In many ways, the Creatures are in the same position as the Yankee players. We are clearly the greatest at what we do, and we resent having to prove it again and again. "Whenever I think we're taking it for granted, I look for the little things to motivate me," said Milton Ousland, the cowbell man. "I read the quotes by Art Howe. Or I think of the fans who never get to cheer anything important, like the Met fans."

Mike March tried to dredge up raw emotions by way of wardrobe, donning his '96 championship sweater, his '98 championship jacket, his '99 championship hat, his 2000 championship pin. He screamed at a couple of people with A's caps, to get the pulse racing.

It is a good thing for Creatures like March, for the younger, hotter blood. Because clearly, Sheriff Tom is still a long way from peak form.

"It's such a late game tonight," Brown was grumping, as he worked on three cans of beer in separate paper bags. "And then, if we win, we've got to celebrate. If we lose, we've got to discuss the game."

Game 1 of the division series didn't make it for the Creatures. Wake us up for the World Series.

E-mail: fjbondy@netscape.net

LOAD-DATE: October 11, 2001