The World Series

by Stephanie Peters

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  1980s

  1988: “Unbelievable!”

  Reggie Jackson's outstanding 1977 World Series performance made him a household name. But sometimes, it's an error that puts a player's name on everyone's lips. In 1986, one man's mistake blackened his reputation for years to come.

  According to baseball legend, Babe Ruth had cursed the Boston Red Sox when the team traded him to the Yankees in 1919. That curse, the story went, had prevented the Red Sox from winning a World Series ever since. When the Sox earned a trip back to the October Classic in 1986, everyone hoped they would put the Curse of the Bambino behind them forever.

  The Sox were facing the New York Mets, whose 108 wins in the regular season made them the obvious favorites. It came as a huge surprise to the New York team, therefore, when they dropped the first two games before their hometown fans. They roared back the next two, however, to tie the Series at two games apiece, only to see the advantage swing back to the Sox when Boston won game five.

  Game six was played in Shea Stadium before a sellout crowd. After nine innings, the score was tied 3–3. Then, at the top of the tenth, leadoff batter Dave Henderson belted a home run to push the Red Sox up by one. Later that inning, slugger Wade Boggs lambasted a double and then came home on a single from Marty Barrett.

  With the score 5–3, the Mets came up to bat. When the first two Mets got out, it seemed the Red Sox were about to win their first World Series in sixty-eight years.

  But then pitcher Calvin Schiraldi gave up three straight singles. The Mets scored to draw within one. Schiraldi was pulled and reliever Bob Stanley took the mound.

  There were two outs, with runners on first and third. Mookie Wilson came up to bat. Stanley worked him to a full count. Then, on the seventh pitch, disaster struck.

  The pitch was wild! Kevin Mitchell took off from third base and hit the dirt in front of home. Safe! The score was all tied up, and Ray Knight, the winning run, was standing on second base.

  Stanley faced Wilson again. Wilson fouled off the next two pitches. Then, on the tenth pitch, Wilson connected.

  It was a grounder right toward first baseman Bill Buckner. Buckner moved in, ready to scoop up the ball for an easy out. But somehow, unbelievably, the ball rolled under Buckner's glove, through his legs, and into the outfield!

  The error proved costly, both for Boston and Buckner. As Buckner scrambled to retrieve the ball, Knight took off for home. Safe! The Mets won the game, 6–5. And when New York took the seventh and final game the following day, Boston's hopes of “reversing the Curse” were dashed once again. And Buckner was forever after the most hated player in Red Sox history.

  On the flip side of that coin, of course, are the players who, in a single moment, become heroes. In 1988, it was Kirk Gibson of the L.A. Dodgers who earned such a place in baseball history.

  Even before Gibson made his mark in the 1988 World Series against the Oakland Athletics, he was already beloved by his fans. One week earlier, Gibson had homered in the twelfth inning of game four of the National League Championship series, breaking the tie to win the game for the Dodgers. The next game, he homered again, this time with two men on base. Those three runs made the difference in the game. The Dodgers went on to win the NLCS, four games to three.

  Unfortunately, the pennant race took its toll on Gibson. He suffered injuries to his right knee and a hamstring pull in his left leg. The pain was so great that the star player could barely stand, let alone swing a bat or run the bases.

  When the World Series began on October 15, Gibson was in the team training room, nursing his injuries. He cheered as his teammate, Mickey Hatcher, slugged a two-run homer in the first inning — and then groaned as the lead slipped away on a grand-slam home run by Jose Canseco the very next inning.

  The Dodgers managed to shave that two-run advantage to one in the sixth, but going into the bottom of the ninth, they were still behind by one. Closer Dennis Eckersley came in to pitch for the Athletics and promptly retired the first two batters. Oakland was one out away from winning game one.

  Then pinch hitter Mike Davis got on base with a walk. With the tying run on first, the Dodgers desperately needed a hit. But they weren't likely to get it from the next scheduled batter, relief pitcher Alejandro Pena. They needed a pinch hitter, someone who could deliver a powerful blast in a clutch. Dave Anderson was available, but manager Tommy Lasorda wasn't sure Anderson was the player for the job.

  He wanted Kirk Gibson. And he got him.

  The crowd roared and stamped their feet as the burly outfielder, obviously in agony, hobbled to the plate. “You talk about a roll of the dice,” said TV announcer Vin Scully. “This is it.”

  Eckersley worked Gibson to a full count. Then, as Gibson readied himself for the next pitch, something a scout named Mel Didier had told him jumped into his head. Eckersley, Didier had said, had a favorite pitch he liked to throw when he got a lefty in a full count.

  “I looked at Eckersley,” Gibson later recalled, “and I said, ‘Partner, as sure as I'm standing here breathing, you're going to throw me that three-and-two backdoor slider.’”

  Gibson called time and stepped out of the box. He took a moment to imagine the slider. Then he stepped back in and waited.

  Eckersley went into his windup and threw. Sure enough, it was a slider!

  Gibson swung. Pow!

  “A fly ball to deep right field!” yelled radio announcer Jack Buck. “This is gonna be a home run! Unbelievable! A home run for Gibson! And the Dodgers have won the game, 5–4! I don't believe what I just saw! I don't believe what I just saw!”

  Vin Scully was just as excited. “High fly ball hit into right field … she is … GONE!” the usually soft-spoken announcer bellowed. “The impossible has happened!”

  Gibson limped around the bases, grinning from ear to ear and pumping his fists. That blast was the only at bat he had all Series, but it remains to this day one of the most memorable home runs of all baseball history. Perhaps buoyed by Gibson's achievement, the Dodgers went on to win the championship, upsetting the A's four games to one.

  CHAPTE NINE

  1990s

  1991: The Worst-to-First Classic

  The 1991 postseason saw two unlikely teams battling for the championship. The Minnesota Twins had had below .500 records for much of the past decade; in 1990, they'd had one of their worst seasons ever, winning only 74 games while dropping 88. The Atlanta Braves were even worse: they'd been in last place for three years running. But in 1991, both teams improved dramatically and, amazingly, clinched spots in the World Series.

  The Braves hadn't been to the championship since 1957, when they'd been Milwaukee's home team; the closest they'd come was a division win in 1982. When they entered Minnesota's Metrodome for the start of the 88th World Series, they were eager to erase decades of subpar seasons.

  Of course, the Twins were equally eager for victory. And that first game, they got what they wanted. The final score of the game was Twins 5, Braves 2.

  The two clubs met in the Metrodome again the next day. The Braves' starting pitcher was Torn Glavine, who, after a shaky start his rookie season in 1988, went on to win twenty games in 1991. For the Twins, it was Kevin Tapani on the mound. Tapani had had six consecutive losses early in the 1991 season before pulling out of his slump to win eleven of his last thirteen games.

  Tapani retired Atlanta's first three batters in order. Glavine, on the other hand, was hit by the first batter he faced, Dan Gladden. Gladden's shallow fly ball should have been an easy out, but instead, he made it all the way to second when right fielder David Justice and second baseman Mark Lemke collided going for the catch. Then Glavine walked Chuck Knoblauch, bringing up heavy hitter Kirby Puckett with two men on.

  With 15 home runs in 1991, Puckett was a very real threat. This time up, he swung so hard that he broke the bat! As the bat's head and the ball both flew toward third base, Puckett flew toward first, Knoblauch toward second, and Gladden toward third
.

  But third baseman Terry Pendleton was ready. He nabbed the ball and stepped on third to get Gladden out. Then he fired the ball to first. Double play! Puckett returned to the dugout. Knoblauch, meanwhile, stood at second.

  He didn't stay there for long. The Twins' designated hitter, Chili Davis, slammed a home run to left center field. Both Chuck and Chili crossed home plate.

  Atlanta got on the board the next inning with a single run. The score was still 2–1 when the Braves came up again in the top of the third. Leadoff batter Rafael Belliard grounded out. Lonnie Smith made it to first on an error by third baseman Scott Leius. He stayed there when Terry Pendleton flied out.

  With two outs and Smith at first, Ron Gant singled to left. The hit was good enough for Smith to make it to third. Gant, meanwhile, rounded first base and then, realizing that Tapani was about to pick him off with a throw to first, jumped back to the bag. At that same moment, first baseman Kent Hrbek reached forward for the ball.

  At more than 250 pounds, Hrbek was a big man with aspirations of becoming a professional wrestler someday. Gant weighed in at just above 170. When the two met by the bag, Hrbek used his brawn to lift Gant by the leg as he tagged him!

  With that strange out, the Braves' chances of tying the game that inning were over. But in the fifth inning, they scored their second run to make it 2–2. That's how things stayed until the bottom of the eighth, when the Twins' rookie third baseman, Scott Leius, sent Glavine's first pitch soaring over the left-field wall. The home run gave the Twins the lead, a lead they kept until the game's end.

  The championship moved to Atlanta for game three. It was the first-ever World Series game played in Fulton County Stadium, and the Braves wanted to give their fans something to cheer about. But at first, the fans did nothing but groan. •

  Atlanta's Steve Avery was on the mound. The 21-year-old had an 18–8 regular season record and a ninety-eight-mile-per-hour fastball. At the start of the game, he also had a severe case of the jitters. He gave up a triple to leadoff batter Dan Gladden, then saw Gladden race home on a sacrifice fly. Two batters and it was already 1–0!

  Fortunately for the Braves, Avery got the next two out. The following inning, he sent the batters down in order. He did the same thing the next three innings. In all, Avery dispatched fifteen in a row, five of which were strikeouts! The Braves, meanwhile, had chalked up four runs to make it a 4–1 ball game.

  But by the eighth inning, the Twins tied it up, 4–4. The score stayed that way through the bottom of the ninth. In the tenth inning, both teams threatened to push over the winning run, but failed. The score remained 4–4 through the eleventh, forcing a twelfth.

  Tension mounted as the Twins loaded the bases with two outs. A good hit now could win the game. But the chance of getting that hit seemed slim. They were out of pinch hitters and were faced with batting either relief pitcher Mark Guthrie, who had never batted in a game, or reliever Rick Aguilera, who had. They chose Aguilera.

  Aguilera connected for a line drive to left. The runners took off at full speed — and then slowed to a halt. Ron Gant had caught the ball for the third out.

  The game had been going on for more than four hours. It finally ended in the bottom of the twelfth. With bases loaded, two outs, Mark Lemke belted a single over short that was just strong enough to score David Justice. The Braves won the game, turning what might have been a three-game deficit into a two-to-one Series.

  Then, amazingly, two nights later, the Series stood at three to two! Game four had been another triumph for Mark Lemke, whose ninth-inning triple scored the tying run and put him in position to make the winning run — which he made after tagging up and beating a throw home.

  By comparison, game five wasn't quite as exciting, unless you considered watching the home team completely destroy the visitors 14–5 exciting. Of course, after the close shaves of the last two games, that margin was just fine with the Braves and their fans!

  The two teams returned to Minnesota for game six, another extra-innings, edge-of-the-seat finish.

  It was the bottom of the eleventh. The score had been tied at 3–3 for a grueling four-and-a-half innings. Both teams were exhausted, but with the championship on the line, neither was about to give up.

  Relief pitcher Charlie Leibrandt took the mound for the Braves. Kirby Puckett was in the batter's box. It was the third time the two players had faced one another in the Series. In the two previous meetings, Puckett had struck out on Leibrandt's changeup. He was determined not to be fooled by the same pitch again. When the same pitch came, Puckett blasted it far into center field. Home run!

  The hit marked the fourth one-run victory of the Series. Fans who liked down-to-the-wire excitement had had more than their fill with this championship —and that was before game seven was even played.

  Game seven, according to baseball watchers everywhere, was one of the most memorable ever played. It was a pitcher's duel, pitting twenty-four-year-old John Smoltz of the Atlanta Braves against a man he had admired growing up, veteran hurler Jack Morris. There was a twelve-year difference in their ages, but statistically, they were near equals.

  Just how equal was evident right from the start. Morris retired the first six batters he faced. Smoltz sent four back to the dugout before giving up two singles. He defused the scoring threat, however, by covering first on the next play to end the inning.

  Inning after inning it went on. Batters who got hits died on base. After seven innings, the scoreboard showed nothing but goose eggs. The anticipation was almost palpable: Who, fans and players wondered, would finally break through?

  The answer almost came at the top of the eighth. Lonnie Smith singled to right, bringing up Terry Pendleton. With a mighty swing, Pendleton blasted the ball deep into left center field.

  Braves fans jumped up, eyes glued to the ball's path. If it went over the wall, it was a ground-rule double that would prevent Smith from rounding third and heading home. If it rebounded off the wall, it could still be a double, but maybe good enough to get Smith across the plate.

  Blam! The ball hit and bounced back to the field. The crowd cheered and shifted their gaze to Smith, not wanting to miss the moment he hit the dirt in front of home plate.

  But to their horror, Smith wasn't running home. Even though the ball was still far in the outfield, he was stopping at third!

  What had happened? The answer was simple if astonishing.

  When Pendleton had hit the ball, Smith took off from first without knowing where the ball was headed. As Smith passed second, he saw infielder Chuck Knoblauch field the ball and throw it to Greg Gagne, who was covering second. Smith stopped at third, certain he was lucky to have made it there safely.

  But of course, Gagne didn't have the ball. Smith had been tricked by a classic decoy play!

  Morris finished off the Braves, sending them back into the field without a run.

  Unfortunately for the Twins, the Braves did the same to them. At the top of the ninth, the score was still 0–0.

  And then, incredibly, at the end of the bottom of the ninth, it was still 0-0.

  Morris took the mound for the tenth inning, making him the only other pitcher besides Christy Mathewson to pitch for more than nine in a World Series. He had faced thirty-five batters so far. He faced three more now, retiring the side in order. Now it was up to his teammates to bring it on home.

  In the Braves dugout, Smoltz watched the action unfold. He had lasted nearly eight innings. Now Alejandro Pena was pitching. Pena had held the Twins scoreless so far, and was determined to the same this inning.

  But the first batter he faced, Dan Gladden, sent the ball soaring into left field. Gladden stretched the hit into a double. Then Chuck Knoblauch bunted down the third baseline. Knoblauch was out, but Gladden was safe at third.

  Pena walked sluggers Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek. The bases were loaded, with still only one out.

  As the clock ticked onto midnight, Eugene Larkin came up to bat. Larkin knew what he ha
d to do: hit a ball high enough so that Gladden could tag up and beat the throw home.

  The Braves knew what he needed to do, too. But knowing it and preventing it are two different things.

  Pena threw and Larkin connected, not for a simple fly ball but for a long blast into left field. Outfielder Brian Hunter started for it and then stopped, knowing full well that that hit had just scored the Series-winning run.

  As the Twins swarmed out of the dugout, the Braves slowly walked off the field. Yet even in defeat, the Atlanta team took comfort in knowing that they'd been part of the most memorable Series ever played. Mark Lemke summed it up best when he said, “Man, that was fun. Let's do it again next year!”

  Lemke and the Braves would, indeed, “do it again next year,” winning the pennant but losing the World Series to the Blue Jays. In 1993, the Blue Jays won again, besting the Philadelphia Pliillies four games to two.

  Then, in 1994, a long-simmering conflict between players and owners boiled over. The season was cut short when the players went on strike on August 12 to protest the team owners' call for a cap on salaries. On September 9, baseball commissioner Bud Selig was forced to cancel the remainder of the season, including the postseason championship. For the first time ever, there would be no World Series.

  Baseball fans were appalled, especially since greed seemed at the heart of the strike. Baseball's reputation took a severe beating in the following months; in fact, it would take a few years before it rebuilt its fan base to what it had once been.

  But rebuild it did, thanks in large part to classic baseball drama. The New York Yankees regained their long-lost throne in 1996, lost it in 1997, and then claimed it again in 1998 and 1999. In 1997, the tenth-inning, seventh-game World Series triumph of the upstart Florida Marlins over the Cleveland Indians had fans cheering in the streets. And in the final months of the 1998 regular season, the world watched as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa raced to beat Roger Maris's home-run record.