One of the most redeeming post season games I have seen in recent years, Sunday night's final game of the World Series dispelled everything critics said about this sloppily-played seven game series.

The only problem is that the 11 inning thriller was capped by the Florida Marlins taking baseball's most prestigious prize: a world championship.

Although I feel the Marlins and their fans are undeserving of the title of world champions Ñ in a nutshell, because they are a 5-year-old custom-bought department store franchise with fans as fair-weather as the oranges in its very state Ñ their seventh game victory was a beautiful sight for one reason.

Jim Leyland.

Just seeing the expression on the Florida manager's usual stone face at victory's peak made me forget that he was a Marlin in the first place. It is a trend that baseball fans can, thankfully, begin to warm up to.

That is, the trend of classy guys making good come fall classic time.

It began last fall, when New York Yankee Manager Joe Torre was granted a World Series ring after defeating the Atlanta Braves.

This, after learning that his brother, who was hanging on to life by the slightest of margins, had just made it through a serious surgery.

Torre's whole story Ñ dedicating it all to his brother, winning the series after a career of disappointing seasons Ñ rings true with Leyland.

A soft-spoken gentleman, Leyland was buried for years in Double A farm systems and sub-par major league teams.

He took it, Leyland did, for many years. And with little complaint.

For the most part, one can say that Leyland is directly responsible for the Marlins' fortunes.

I would say he is responsible for their attitudes (if you are willing to forget series MVP Livan Hernandez' little temper tantrum after his removal from game one).

One may recall third baseman Wade Boggs' victory horseback lap along with a police officer after the New York Yankee won last year.

Horseback? A bit much.

He called back the horses, and instead jumped right out of the dugout after the third out.

Instead of running straight for his players, he went straight for someone else. Someone much more important.

His wife.

Leyland went straight out of the dugout and toward the stands to salute her.

It was a look of emotion that not many have seen from the normally soft spoken Leyland. Pumping his fist and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Then it was his players. Then it was the fans.

It was Leyland's victory that made FloridaÕs victory satisfying.

It was Leyland's victory lap that was justified. Mike Besack is a staff writer for the Daily Forty-Niner. His column appears on Tuesdays and Thursdays.