Kevin Sherrington

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When you've scored one more run than a dead man in 37 innings and were nearly no-hit by a last-place team, in effect, playing the most lifeless baseball of an inspiring, improbable season at the worst possible time, it's safe to assume you must be dead men walking. And the Angels lurking about aren't escorts, either.

But these are the Rangers we're talking about, so let's make other assumptions.

Let's say they play to their pattern this weekend, which is this:

The first week of August, they drop three of four to Oakland, then take two of three from the Angels. Or Aug. 31, Toronto drops a monumental, 18-10 embarrassment on them, and they respond with three straight wins over the Jays.

Or the first week of this month, they lose two of three in Baltimore, then sweep Cleveland in less than 24 hours.

Bottom line: These Rangers are a resilient bunch, and the reason we know that is because occasionally they're so awful.

For that matter, if they can suddenly turn around a historically horrific homestand, Six Flags should name its next roller coaster after them. But first they've got to grow up a little, and fast.

One of the more unfortunate consequences of a bad week was that Ron Washington unwittingly provided his impressionable charges an excuse: He complained about the weather. He said his young guys need to frolic in the sun and grass and dirt instead of being holed up in their rooms every day, noses pressed to the glass.

Of course, if I'm not mistaken, it rained on the A's, too, and Bob Geren's kids aren't exactly the Gashouse Gang.

At issue here is make-up. The chemistry in the Rangers' clubhouse has been good for years, mostly because of the laid-back nature. They're good guys. But occasionally it works against them. The manager learned early on not to jump anyone too hard. Everyone's afraid of hurting someone else's feelings, even when it might be necessary.

When the Rangers added Milton Bradley to the lineup last year, scouts raved about the toughness he brought. And they were right. He was immensely popular with teammates early. But as the season wore on and Bradley missed more and more time for a vast array of bizarre maladies, the respect of his increasingly dubious teammates ebbed away.

Bradley's in Chicago now, but, in some respects, the condition lingers.

Josh Hamilton says he won't be available in a now-or-never series against the Angels because he doesn't want to injure his back any further. No one else knows how he feels, and, frankly, I've never been one to question an athlete's injury.

But what's he risking? Just 17 games remain, and he's got an off-season to recover. When Hamilton says he can't play, he doesn't complain about pain in his back. He says it's because of pain sure to come.

Only out of respect for Hamilton's immense talent would I even presume to make a comparison, but let's consider the case of Mickey Mantle, another five-tool player with injury issues and demons of his own. Taped up like a mummy beneath his pinstripes, Mantle gritted it out. As a result, he earned his teammates' everlasting respect.

Most athletes learn that they're never going to be 100 percent. In Hamilton's case, it's looking like injuries will always be an issue. If he's going to come anywhere close to his promise, he needs an epiphany like the one that came to Jack Nicholson's character in a psychiatrist's waiting room. Turning to the other patients, Jack asked, "What if this is as good as it gets?"

Maybe it simply won't get any better for the Rangers this season. Maybe this is as close as they get.

If this really is it, then go out in the same style that won so many hearts and minds this season. They hit bottom this week and rattled around in it. Now one last thrill.