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.

Mission Accomplished

It wasn’t quite like inviting a Red Sox fan to Yankee Stadium.

Or Michele Bachmann to an ACLU convention.

But I got quite the invite on Thursday night.

Let me take a step back.

So there we were.

At a neighborhood gathering.

When one of the dads came up to me.

I've known this dad for about five years.

And we’ve spoken many times.

About life.

Parenthood.

Bob Dylan.

Religion.

Not necessarily in that order.

Sometimes we've even mixed two of those ingredients.

Like the time I sang him the lyrics to Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited:

Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"

Abe says, "Man, you must be puttin' me on"

God say, "No." Abe say, "What ?"

God say, "You can do what you want Abe, but

The next time you see me comin' you better run"

Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done ?"

God says. "Out on Highway 61".

We both love that song.

For different reasons.

I love Dylan.

He loves the Bible.

I love the band Genesis.

He loves the book of Genesis.

Hey whatever works.

He is what I would call a VERY religious man.

Notice the CAPS.

His choice of religion is Christianity.

Now just in case the CAPS didn’t convince you.

Here’s some backup.

Every Sunday morning he teaches a class.

A Bible class.

Attended by about 500 people.

Sold yet?

Well he is well aware of my Jewish heritage.

And my Korean Catholic wife.

And he is also aware that we have taken the fifth when it comes to raising our kids under a certain religion.

What's the rush -- my oldest daughter is only 14.

Now growing up I went to synagogue every Saturday.

Went.

Past tense.

I don't go anymore.

In fact, the last time I was in a house of worship was April 15, 2009.

It was the L.A. Sports Arena.

For a Bruce Springsteen concert.

Now don't get me wrong.

I believe in God.

And I love religion.

Or at least the idea of religion.

Any religion.

As long as it works for you.

But it really caught me off guard when my friend threw this proposal at me: 

“What do you think about coming to our church sometime?”

Say what?

Considering the time and the place of the question, it came more out of left field than Matt Holliday.

Now before my sarcasm leaves you with the wrong impression.

Let me say that not only did I truly respect what he was saying.

But I honestly appreciated the thought.

Now I'm not big on being preached to.

None of us are.

But I think waiting five plus years to ask that question.

A question he probably wanted to ask on day 1.

I think he waited long enough.

But still the question caught me way off guard.

Did he just ask a Jewish guy to join a Christian church?

At a BBQ?

By God he did.

No pun intended.

But I took a deep breath.

Gathered my thoughts.

And fumbled my way through the answer.

Like I was Wendell Tyler.

I certainly didn’t want to come off as being disrespectful.

And while attending a church is not important to me.

It is to him.

So I said things like.

“My wife and I have never really put a major emphasis on any one religion in our house.”

Duh?

“And we approach faith from a different perspective.”

Whatever that means.

“And I don’t think that’s for us right now.”

Oh, that was a good one.

Based on my brilliant answers, I think he got the idea that his offer was one I could refuse.

At least for now.

He made one last ditch effort.

Saying that not only could I bring my own Starbucks into the church.

But there is actually a Starbucks in their church.

Now he’s getting dirty.

He really knows that straight line to my heart.

But somehow I resisted the offer.

For now.

But it definitely made me think.

And maybe just for that reason, asking the question served its purpose.

For now.