More than any other sport, baseball is chronicled in numbers. Certain numbers like .401 and
56 instantly summon names, or years, or faces. And baseball, more than any other sport, is ruled by memories.
Do you have a favorite baseball memory? I have a few. Author Joe Posnanski came up with 100. In his book, Why We Love Baseball, a History in 50 Moments he counts down the top 50 moments in baseball history. He also added 50 more moments that are less historical but equally memorable. They are grouped in categories such as five trick plays, five duels, five meltdowns, etc.
It's an enjoyable book for any dedicated baseball fan and an entertaining follow up to 2021’s Baseball 100 about the best players in history. Since I didn’t grow up driving my Model T to the ballpark, many of his top 100 moments took place before 1968’s second-most memorable moment, my birth. The Tigers winning the World Series being the first. I wish I could have seen Carl Hubbell’s 1934 All-Star game in which he struck out five consecutive future Hall of Famers. Or Johnny Vandemeer’s back-to-back no-hitters in 1939. And it would have been incredible to watch Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams, and Jackie Robinson in person.
Fortunately, two-thirds of Posnanski’s top moments occurred in my lifetime. I’ve watched many of them on TV. Heroics from players like Rose, Gibson (Kirk), Fisk, Jeter, Reggie, Ripken, and Aaron may cause you to conjure up the action in your mind. Or you might instantly recall where you were when it happened. Were you a kid staying up past your bedtime when Fisk crushed his famous homer? I was in my freshman dorm room when a “little roller up the first baseline” went through Buckner’s legs. Watching the moments with others make them more special. Some were viewed with my dad, others with baseball-loving roommates.
For now, my list of memorable moments only includes in-person games, and none of them landed in Posnanski's book. Leading off, would be my first-ever game at Tiger Stadium. Reggie Jackson hit a homerun. Before his next at-bat, my dad hollered, “Move the fences back!” Only six-years-old, I confusingly wondered whether the outfield walls were really retractable.
I saw The Bird defeat the Yankees in the summer of 1976. Then in 1984, mom, dad, and I witnessed the Tigers’ 35th win of the season. Truly remarkable, it came in just their 40th game played. In 1986’s Opening Day, I watched Gibson (Kirk again) slam a pair of go-ahead homers to beat the Redsox. In high school, my buddies and I would sit in the Tiger Stadium bleachers. The tickets were cheaper than a movie. I remember watching a rookie named Wally Joyner mash a homer off the facing of the right field upper deck.
With a few of those buddies, I road tripped to Chicago for my first-ever game at Wrigley in ‘87. We sat in the last row of the upper deck behind home plate and witnessed Andre Dawson hit three homeruns. When he went to right field after the third blast, the Cubs’ fans in the nearby bleachers bowed down to him in reverent worship. In October of '87 I saw the Tigers take the first game of final-weekend, three-game sweep of the Blue Jays that clinched the AL pennant for Detroit.
The final game at Tiger Stadium also makes my list. A Robert Fick grand slam capped a night of saying goodbye to the grandest stadium in my heart. And I was in Anaheim when the Angels won game seven of the 2002 World Series.
But my top baseball moment came in 1997. I was on an east-coast stadium tour with a good friend. We began in Fenway Park, a first for both of us. It was the highlight of the trip, a baseball worshipper’s trip to Mecca. It was also former Redsox great Roger Clemens’ first start in Boston after becoming a Toronto Blue Jay. It was hot, 90 degrees at the 5:00 p.m. game time. Our seats were in the corner by right field’s Pesky Pole. We were near the visitor’s bullpen and had a good view of Clemens warming up. We were also in earshot of every Redsox fan, male and female, completely berating him for leaving. I hadn’t heard cussing like that since, well, just about every movie set in Boston has cussing like that.
What happened next bordered on a magical Hollywood script. As the sun went down and the ancient stadium began to glow under the lights, Clemens went on a roll. He began to strike out Boston batters at a mighty clip. Five, then ten. As he reached a dozen K’s you could feel the mood shifting. He notched No. 16 to end the eighth inning and walked off the mound to a standing ovation. The fans who vehemently booed him in the first inning now stood together, cheering him on, a Sunday of redemption and forgiveness in baseball’s grand cathedral. And I’ll never forget it.
Fast forward to 2024. Today is Opening Day. My hometown Dodgers had a quite the off-season, using creative contract hijinks to restock their roster. I know some who have threatened to give up baseball this year because of how the Dodgers revamped. As if baseball is something you can quit for a period in life, like fasting from chocolate during lent. But not me.
The Dodgers may win 125 games this year, but they have to win in October. Which isn’t a lock. You only need to go back to last year to see what Arizona did to the Dodgers. So, I won’t be quitting baseball. Because today, baseball is back and I'll be watching.
And I hope you will be too. You just might see something memorable.
Something you’ll remember forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment