The One I Missed

I.

Sir Bacon.

Was actually accused of getting caught up in the hype.

Just yesterday.

The exact text said:

“Gm 6 not greatest game ever.  Ur caught up In hype.  Everything now has to be best.”

He must’ve learned how to write by reading my blog.

And I appreciate it.

Now I respect his sports knowledge as much as anyone I’ve ever met.

But he wasn’t done there.

He then listed all of the games that he felt were better than Thursday night’s masterpiece.

Gm 6 86

Gm 4 93

Donnie Moore game

Astros mets 86

Jack Morris 10 inning shutout

Ok, I get it.

You subscribe to wikipedia.

And maybe you are right.

Like Flavor Flav, maybe I shouldn’t have believed the hype.

But for me, game 6 was the best game I’d ever seen.

Until next year.

Gm 6 86... name one play before the ball went between Buckner’s legs.  You can’t.

Gm 4 93... 15-14... Blue Jays get 6 in the 8th win.  Mitch Williams implodes.  Again.  Ok, that’s on the list.

Donnie Moore game... really?  One swing makes it a great game?  really? 

Astros mets 86... five runs in the 16th inning... after the game was tied with 3 in the 9th.  Good call.

Jack Morris 10 inning shutout... Jack Morris 10 inning shutout?  I don’t remember that one....

(Insert Harp Flashback Music)

I have always been a fan of the underdog.

In the mid-80’s, out of nowhere, I became this diehard fan of the Minnesota Twins.

And back in the day I was willing to put my money where my heart was.

In 1987, before the season started, I actually bet $20.

In Las Vegas.

That the Minnesota Twins would win the American League.

Back in 1987, $20 was a lot of money.

And the Twins were terrible.

I think I got like 30-1 odds on that bet.

But based on how pathetic the Twins were, the odds should’ve been like 3,000,000-1.

Nevertheless, through some good fortune and lots of luck.

The ‘87 Twinkies did what everyone said couldn’t be done.

They went from worst-to-first.

Winning the division.

Winning the League Championship.

And eventually winning the World Series.

Along the way, winning me 600 cold ones.

Which bought a lot of pizza and beer in 1987.

Four years later they were at it again.

Advancing to their second World Series in four years.

Actually second in 26 years.

Third all-time.

With another win, we could be talking dynasty.

The only thing standing in the way were the Atlanta Braves.

A team that was trying to pull off its own worst-to-first.

The World Series was epic.

Going all seven games.

Four of the first six games were decided by one run.

Game 7 was destined to be a classic.

The only problem is game 7 was also destined to be at the same exact time I was flying from the east coast to the west.

Non-stop.

I think we boarded at the exact same time as the first pitch of the game.

So I saw exactly none of it.

Not one pitch.

No Jet Blue back then.

But the good news is our pilot was nice enough to keep us updated.

“At the end of one inning of game 7 of the World Series, there is no score.”

Two innings, no score.

Five innings, no score.

Seven innings, no score.

Are you kidding me?

Game 7 of the World Series is scoreless through seven innings.

And I’m on a plane.

End of eight innings, no score.

End of nine innings, no score.

UNCLE!!!!!

Enough already.

Somebody make this plane stop.

Somewhere!

The greatest game in the history of baseball.

The first class of our american pastime.

And I’m in coach.

What did I do to deserve this?

Sure enough, three hours and 23 minutes after we took off.

Or pretty close to that.

The pilot came on the loud speaker and informed us.

“The Minnesota Twins just scored a run in the bottom of the 10th inning.”

To win the game.

And the World Series.

1-0.

I’m sure I was excited.

I guess.

But boy did I feel cheated.

Maybe that’s why that game didn’t make my list.

G.O.A.T.

“I don’t believe what I just saw.”

Jack Buck, 1988

The Muhammed Ali of baseball games.

The greatest.

The greatest game of all-time.

Hands down.

Yes, I realize you can’t just throw out that statement.

But I just did.

Game 6 of the 2011 World Series is the greatest baseball game in the history of our national pastime.

Period.

How do you define great?

Pick One:  

¹great adj \ˈgrāt

1 notably large in size

2 large in number or measure

3 remarkable in magnitude, degree, or effectiveness 

4 full of emotion

They all fit. 

I’m far from a baseball historian.

But I know my stuff.

For example, did you know the first baseball game was played on April 22, 1876.

True.

Wikipedia says so.

That day a rookie named Jamie Moyer beat the Cincinnati Red Stockings, 2.5-1.

The rules were a little different then.

But it was baseball.

The same game we love today.

Over the next 135 years, thousands... 

tens of thousands...

hundreds of thousands of games have been played.

Games with everything.

293 games with a cycle.

272 no-hitters.

20 Perfect Games.

Good games.

Bad games.

Long games.

Short games.

But no baseball game has ever been as great as what we saw on Thursday night.

Just when you thought it couldn’t take another twist.

It twisted again.

Like Chubby Checker.

This game had it all.

EVERYTHING.

Good pitching.  Bad pitching.

Good hitting.  Great hitting.

Good defense.  Atrocious defense.

You thought Silence of the Lambs was hard to watch.

Try watching Matt Holliday play left field.

Downright scary.

Now when I say this game was the greatest game.

I’m talking greatest game.

Not greatest moment.

Everyone knows the greatest moment in baseball history is Kirk Gibson.

Circa 1988.

The moment that inspired “I don’t believe what I just saw.”

But if Jack Buck was still with us, he wouldn’t believe what his son Joe saw at the new Busch Stadium on Thursday night.

This game went 11 innings.

At least one run in 10 of those.

19 runs in all.

28 hits.

6 homers.

42 players used.

15 players threw a pitch.

16 had a hit.

14 scored a run.

And four made an error.

In fact, Michael Young of Texas made two.

The game was tied five times.

The second inning.  Fourth inning.  Sixth inning.  Ninth inning and Tenth Inning.

And Texas broke the tie every time.

Well every time except one time.

The last time.

The Rangers got back-to-back homers to take the lead in the seventh inning.

Great moment.

The Cardinals battled back in the bottom of the ninth.

To tie the game.

Another great moment.

Down to their final strike, St. Louis native David Freese hit an opposite-field fly ball to right field.

Had the Rangers right-fielder Nelson Cruz made the catch.

A tough catch.

That would’ve been an historic moment.

And it would’ve closed a great game.

And a great series.

But he didn’t.

And when the ball bounced off the padding of that right field wall, a pair of Cardinals circled the bases to tie the game at 7.

And send it into extra innings.

Baseball’s version of sudden death overtime.

That tie would last exactly minutes.

That’s because in the top of the 10th inning, Josh Hamilton sent a ball over that same right field wall.

Over that wall.

Typical Texas.

Anything you can do I can do better.

A two-run homer.

9-7 Rangers.

And another great moment.

Game over?

Game not over!

In the bottom of that inning, the Cardinals battled back.

Again.

Are you starting to believe me about this greatest game thing?

Down 9-8, the Cardinals had two on with two out.

And two strikes.

That’s what Vin Scully calls the deuces wild.

Well wild it was when Lance Berkman singled to center scoring the tying run.

Again.

9-9.

Let’s go to the 11th.

For the cherry on top.

Enter Freese.

A 28-year old journeyman by baseball’s standards.

A guy who quit the game after high school.

A guy who had just 15 major league homers entering this post-season.

A guy who will never have to buy another Budweiser in his hometown of St. Louis.

Freese hit a high-flying home run to deep center field to give the Cardinals the unimaginable come-from-behind victory.

Setting up a winner-take-all game 7.

Capping the greatest game of baseball we have ever seen.

Even if we couldn’t believe what we just saw.

School Ties

If you haven’t figured out by now, my recent trip to Notre Dame was great.

Everything about it.

Well everything except for the game.

But even that had its moments.

Like when the referee said, “Time Out, UCLA.”

Even though Notre Dame was playing USC.

The South Bend fans didn’t let that one go unnoticed.

In fact, they didn’t let anything go unnoticed.

Everything you could read in the newspaper on Sunday morning.

We heard in Section 35 on Saturday night.

Something else we heard on Saturday Night was the song "Crazy Train".

By Ozzy Osbourne.

Every time and I mean EVERY time the Notre Dame defense needed a stop, they played the beginning of Crazy Train on the PA system.


ALL ABOARD... HA HA HA HA.

Now I love that song.

Love it so much that its the ringer on my cell phone.

But it took me at least 15 times to stop reaching for my phone whenever they played that song.

Clearly, I'm not very bright.

When we bought the tickets, we were told they were in the student section.

Which meant, don’t plan on sitting down.

If you want to watch the game, bring comfortable shoes.

Because you’ll be standing.

Apparently the lady next to me wasn’t given that memo.

Or her husband didn’t share that information with her.

They showed up just before the kickoff.

And sat in their seat.

Never got up.

For the entire first half, she stared at the back of the man standing in front of her.

There was no college try for her.

And when the first half ended.

So did their night.

Never saw them again.

We also left at halftime.

In search of “Irish Nachos”.

We were told we MUST try them.

So must we did.

But it wasn’t easy finding them.

Just one stand in the entire stadium sold these World Famous Irish Nachos.

But when we got to the stand, there was no line.

That should’ve been our first clue.

But we still bought in.

$8.50 worth.

And for that $8.50 we got a ginormous bowl of something.

Something that resembled nachos.

But instead of tortilla chips, we got potato chips.

Instead of ground beef, we got corned beef.

Instead of melted orange cheese, we got cut up swiss cheese.

Instead of beans, we got sauerkraut.

And instead of salsa, we got thousand island dressing.

It was more Reuben than Nachos.

Tasty?

At times.

“Must get”?

Not so much.

But at least it gave us something to do during halftime.

Actually finding stuff to do in South Bend was never a problem.

Book signings to band performances.

Pep Rally to Volleyball games.

Before the game my son and I took a tour of the campus.

Including a visit to The Grotto.

Forget the Irish Nachos, the Grotto is a MUST see at Notre Dame.

The Grotto is a quiet place of worship hidden inside this beautiful Catholic campus.

Actually outside.

It’s a place that invites one and invites all to kneel in prayer.

Or light a candle.

And connect with whatever faith that fits them.

So I lit a candle.

Connected with my emotions.

And prayed for a Notre Dame win.

Well that didn’t work.

Maybe the Grotto knew I was Jewish.

From there we headed to the Golden Dome.

Well it’s called the Main Building.

But we all know it as the Golden Dome.

While we were there, the Bagpipe Band was performing its pre-game concert.

Normally a 12-year-old boy might get freaked out by a bunch of guys wearing skirts.

Not my son.

Remember, he used to live in California.

As we were leaving the Golden Dome, I saw a familiar face.

A face I hadn’t seen in 10 years.

Exactly.

That was the last time I was at Notre Dame.

In fact, the man I saw was the man who brought my dad and I to South Bend in 2001.

He has to be in his mid-80s by now.

Maybe more.

But he looks great.

And so does his wife, of 60+ years.

As soon as I saw them, I hustled over.

To say hello.

And to introduce them to my son.

I always knew this man was a big supporter of my favorite school.

But I didn’t know just how big.

I didn’t know that he was a star baseball player at Notre Dame in the late 40s.

I didn’t know that he wrote a book about his life. 

I didn’t know he played amateur baseball against Jackie Robinson.

And I didn’t know that he played professional baseball.

When he found out that baseball was my son’s true love, he was very excited.

So excited he gave him some tips.

Fingertips.

“Fingertip push ups,” he said.  “That’s the key.”

He told my boy that strong hands and strong forearms are the secret to being a great baseball player.

And he would know.

We probably spoke for 15 minutes.

And then we went our separate ways.

Hopefully we'll meet again in South Bend.

In less than ten years.

Thanks for going on this trip with me.

Now back to reality.