I'm spent. Bleary-eyed nights in front of the computer, radio and TV going 24-7. Stat splits and SportsCenter. All Cali-baseball, all the time for three glorious weeks.

Sunday night, after it was over (I know it was actually over on Saturday, but, you know, mom always said to finish what you start and all that, so I spent Sunday listening to the A's eek one out over Texas), I needed to cool out and get some perspective. So I put the headphones on and hit shuffle on the mp3 player, ready to drift off to sleep.

	Benito Santiago gets the nod as Cali's top catcher.

First song I heard? "California Stars" off the Wilco/Billy Bragg/Woody Guthrie record, "Mermaid Avenue." Next thing I know, I'm composing a California baseball, September, 2002, all-star roster in my head. Can't help it.

It's an anecdotal, highly subjective list, mind you. My brain was tired, my heart was full, I was held captive by the bittersweet, end-of-summer sway of a song I love.

Anyway, here it is:

C, Benito Santiago, San Francisco: This one's simple -- respect your elders. Especially you're "on-fire, spraying balls all over the park" elders. Bonus: He never looks like he's working at it. (Runner-up in this category, by the way, goes to Mike Scioscia, who was disqualified for not actually playing any more.)

1B, Scott Spiezio, Anaheim: Two things -- first, he matched Eric Chavez's game-tying home run with a two-out, game-winning single off the wall that sucked the life out of Oakland and made Anaheim feel like the great, exploding center of the universe. Second, I just like saying, "Spiezio."

2B, Jeff Kent, San Francisco: About a week ago, the Dodgers were dogging the Giants and the Giants were in danger of dropping one they shouldn't to Milwaukee. The score was 1-1 in the ninth, it was a grey, nothing day in Milwaukee, the kind of day something could slip away from you. Kent changed all that with a shot over the left-field wall. Ballgame. Bonds is more dramatic, more epic, but Kent's real good. In fact, it says here that he's real, real good.

3B, Eric Chavez, Oakland, Troy Glaus, Anaheim: Eric, Troy. Chavez, Glaus. Ertroy Chaglaus. Troyer Glausez. Two kids from San Diego who grew up just wanting to play ball. Two great swings, one a piston, the other a sail whipping in the wind. Two monster months. Two bright futures. I'm taking 'em both.

SS, Miguel Tejada, Oakland: Duh. The day he hit the home run to extend the A's winning streak to 18, my wife and daughter and I were listening on the radio at home in the baby's room. At the crack of the bat I shouted and clapped my hands. The baby cried. My wife laughed at the both of us.

Outfield (I'm using the All-Star game logic; any three outfielders -- mine are all left fielders.):
Barry Bonds, San Francisco: He hits balls that are so severe, so definitive, you can't really fully describe them without using curse words. It's a Richard Pryor kind of thing: He didn't just hit one, he "crushed that mother%*$!&#," he didn't connect, he "hit the &%*$ out of it."

Brian Jordan, Los Angeles: Something like 68 runs batted in in September. Every time they needed a hit, he gave them one, including three or four (I've lost count, I could hardly believe they kept coming) in the ninth to win games. The Dodgers are out, but rest assured, kids on L.A. playgrounds are fighting for the right to be this Jordan, not the other one, this week.

Garrett Anderson, Anaheim: Playoff-clinching, '86-erasing, tailspin-stopping home runs get you on the list. So do 56 doubles.

Starting pitchers (one lefty and one righty): I'll take Tim Hudson of Oakland on the right side, for two give-no-quarter efforts against Seattle down the stretch, but Hideo Nomo and Jason Schmidt were mighty, mighty warriors as well.

On the left, it's A's ace Barry Zito and then everybody else. It's not just that his stuff is so untouchable, it's that it's so good-looking batters can barely bring themselves to want to touch it. They look at it admiringly, not wanting to muss things up with a swing.

	Gagne can finally put his arm, and cap, to rest for the season.

Relief pitcher: Robb Nen was dynamite. Billy Koch was exciting. Troy Percival was the heart and soul of Anaheim (and some of you thought Anaheim had no heart or soul at all). But the award goes to Eric Gagne, who pitched whenever, wherever and however the Dodgers asked him to. Somewhere in the south pacific right now, Gagne's arm is sipping on a well-deserved umbrella drink, feeling the ocean breeze blow across its hairs.

… That's the list; in its own way, a record of what a great month this has been out west.

Can't wait for the playoffs. Can't wait for an Oakland-Anaheim series and then seeing the Giants take on the winner in the Series.

First, though, some sleep … sing it …

I'd like to dream my troubles all away
On a bed of California stars
Jump up from my starbed and make another day
Underneath my California Stars

They hang like grapes on vines that shine
And warm the lovers glass like friendly wine
So, I'd give this world
just to dream with you
On our bed of California stars

Previous entries: Sept. 28 | Sept. 27 | Sept. 26 | Sept. 25 | Sept. 23 | Sept. 22 | Sept. 20 | Sept. 19 | Sept. 18 | Sept. 17 | Sept. 16 | Sept. 15 | Sept. 14 | Sept. 13 | Sept. 12 | Sept. 11 | Sept. 9-10

Eric Neel reviews sports culture in his "Critical Mass" column on Page 2. You can e-mail him at eneel@cox.net.