The 1986 Mets team video, which I’ve seen somewhere north of Little Man Tate and somewhere south of Pam Anderson’s home video collection, begins with an ominous montage. We see an aerial view of Shea Stadium, set to a haunting score. On the bottom, in classy white lettering, it says simply: Oct. 25, 1986.
The scene cuts to the bench. You see Mets lining the dugout, head in hands. Tears are flowing. It seems as if Ron Darling will never look up again. Because, Mets fan faithful, the game was all but over. It was the bottom of the ninth inning of Game Six of that World Series, perhaps the greatest fall classic ever contested, and the Red Sox were up. They were on the verge of their first World Series since 1918. Little children were up all over Boston. Bars had extended last call. This was their time to shine.
Then the video changes to a series of abrupt cuts: Kevin Mitchell rounding third to score the tying run, Mookie at bat, Mookie getting brushed back, Mookie hitting a grounder and running so hard down the first base line, you thought his life depended on it. The game was over though, it was a simple grounder to first. Then you see it, Billy Buckner, and the ball just rolls right through his legs. Another abrupt cut. This time, Gary Carter, arms waving, rounding third base to score the game-winning run and send the series to a seventh game.
I’ve seen that video more times than I can possibly count. My dad loves it. They were his team.
I kept thinking about that video in the aftermath of Game seven of this year’s Fall Classic. Where would a video about this series begin? Paul O’Neill’s boneheaded attempt to stretch a double into a triple in the early stages, costing the Yankees a potential run that may have sent the series to extra innings? Danny Bautista’s attempt to do the same in the seventh inning, which might have made it 2-1 Diamondbacks and shifted the momentum? How about Steve Finley’s full-speed, arm-contorting catch of a sure Shane Spencer double, had Finley been just a step too slow? (https://treehouselodge.com) What about one of Schilling’s strikeouts? Or Randy Johnson, nostrils heaving, warming up in the bullpen?
We could take it right to the very end and begin the video with Mark Grace’s leadoff hit or Tony Womack’s slam to right field for a double, followed by the obligatory pointing towards the heavens? Jay Bell’s mere presence in the deciding inning of a deciding game of a world championship makes for interesting viewing, if you ask me. Would it be Mariano’s bad throw to Derek Jeter at second base? Or, we could begin the classic tape with Gonzo’s hit, blooping over Jeter’s head? What about Schilling running around the field, looking frantically for someone to hug, as he finally captured his first world championship?
What does all this prove? That I remember the game? Well, yes, but it proves far more than that. Baseball is a sport of inches, as clich? as that sounds. It is won on small moments in big games. This series was all about those moments. Bob Brenly, on Bautista’s double, called off a bunt for one pitch, and ended up giving the desert dwellers their first run of the game. It was the fitting end to a classic championship, seven hard-fought (OK, six hard fought) games between two teams that deserved and desired rings on 2001’s Opening Day. The deciding game had every true baseball fan on the edge of their seat from the very beginning.
In the end, too, that game was a question of desire. In 40 years, when I’m standing on line at a bank, trying to cash my $12,000 paycheck, and I hear someone bring it up because the Cincinnati Reds, led by Adam Dunn, Jr., have just won the World Series, I hope that no one ever says it can be blamed on a single Yankee. It can’t. Rivera is the greatest postseason pitcher in baseball’s storied history: His postseason ERA is 0.70. That’s unparalled. When the game mattered the most, absolutely the most, Arizona wanted it more, and they played like it to win. There is no sweeter feeling than capturing a world championship in your home stadium, in front of a capacity crowd, in the deciding inning of a deciding game. Did anyone see that place rocking before the bottom of the ninth? Arizona fans, who last captured anything around the 1992 Arena Bowl, wanted this more than life itself. Their boys went out and took it. They simply desired it more.
There has been much talk about the effects the loss will have on New York, and a bunch of clich?d columnists writing about my hometown’s “enduring spirit” being trampled. That’s all a bunch of B.S., because more than anything, this game proved that baseball can save America. This game showed what was great about our country: People can accomplish anything they want when they desire it. This game wasn’t about New York, and what happened on Sept. 11. It was a baseball game. It gave us all something else to think about, focus on, hope for. And don’t worry about New York. New York is the epicenter of everything, and New York shall recover.
I mean, think about it. The Islanders are already the best team in the NHL.
