Back to the Future

Much has been made of today being "Back to the Future Day." Having traveled to 1955 in the original Back to the Future, October 21, 2015 was the day in the future at which Marty McFly arrived in Back to the Future 2. What I want to point out though is something that hasn't received a lot of attention.

In the very same movie, Marty and Doc Brown take a trip back to 1985, find out that things have been REALLY messed up by their time traveling, and ultimately head back to 1955 again to fix everything. In the scene where they are getting ready to jump back to 1955, Marty is worried what will happen to his girlfriend and Doc's dog if they jump without them. The following dialogue takes place:

Doc: “Don’t worry, Marty. Assuming we succeed in our mission, this alternate 1985 will be changed back into the real 1985, instantaneously transforming around Jennifer and Einie. Jennifer and Einie will be fine, and they will absolutely no memory of this horrible place.”

Marty: “Doc, what if we don’t succeed?”

Doc: “We must succeed!”

Now I don't remember all the details of the movie, but I can only assume that this mission they were going on, endeavoring to fix "this horrible place," was directly related to the infamous blown call by Don Denkinger that had happened only hours before, late the night of October 26, 1985.

Now the question is, why would they head back to November 12, 1955 to fix things? I'm not exactly sure, but Jack Clark (who made the ill-fated throw to Todd Worrell) was born just two days earlier. Hmmmmmmm...

Go Crazy, Folks! Go Crazy!

My ticket stub from 10/14/85

Today is the 30th anniversary of one of my most cherished adolescent memories, and yet it is a day of somewhat mixed emotions. Mixed emotions on the one hand because the Cardinals were eliminated from the MLB postseason yesterday, and (to make matters worse) they were eliminated by the Cubs. It's about the worst way possible for a Cardinals season to end.

Apart from that though, and more pointedly, there is a tinge of melancholy attached to this beloved memory because it's the memory of an event shared with my late father. Dad didn't get too worked up about much; he was a pretty stoic guy. But on this day three decades ago, he definitely got excited. You could even say that he went crazy.

It was far more common for me in those days to go to games with my mom. Among my earliest childhood memories is going with her to Sunday afternoon games with promotional giveaways (bat day, pennant day, hat day, etc.). We would head down to the stadium after church, brown-bag lunch in hand, and wait in line for seats in the left field bleachers to be as close as possible to her favorite player (and subsequently mine), Lou Brock.

On this overcast Monday though, it was my dad who pulled me out of middle school and took me to the fifth game of the 1985 National League Championship Series against the Los Angeles Dodgers. The series stood tied at two games apiece and whoever won the day's contest would achieve the enviable position of being just one win shy of reaching the World Series.

The Cardinals scored two runs in the first off perennial all-star, Fernando Valenzuela, only to squander a number of other opportunities throughout the next seven innings. The Dodgers broke through in the fourth against one of my childhood favorites, Bob Forsch, when four-time batting champ Bill Madlock hit a two-run homer to tie the game.

The score remained 2-2 into the ninth inning. After Jeff Lahti retired the Dodgers in order, Willie McGee led off the bottom half of the inning with a pop out to 3rd. Then Ozzie Smith, all 150 pounds of him, stepped to the plate. NBC's television broadcast flashed a graphic stating that in 3,009 left-handed at bats over the course of his career, the switch-hitting Wizard of Oz had NEVER hit a home run. Then, with a 1-2 count and Dodgers closer Tom Niedenfuer on the mound, the rest, as they say, is history:

From our upper deck perspective high above the right field wall, we couldn't tell at first if the ball had cleared the fence. Our initial clue was the joyful reaction of the relievers in the Cardinals' bullpen, which was located in the right field corner. For an instant, I feared their exuberance (as well as that of 53,000 others) was misplaced when Dodgers right fielder Mike Marshall threw the ball in to shortstop Mariano Duncan, who looked as if he was going to tag Ozzie out. We quickly realized though that Ozzie's shot had caromed off of one of the concrete pillars above the wall and was indeed a game-winning homer.

As we stood there, clapping, yelling, cheering, chanting Ozzie's name, it occurred to me that in my 14 years of life, I had never seen my father so excited. I had truly experienced something special, something I would never forget.

It would not be until later that evening that we would hear Jack Buck's soon-to-be-famous call of the home run. Even so, three decades later, the text tone on my phone is Mr. Buck's voice beckoning, "Go crazy, folks! Go crazy!"

The Great Home Run Race of 1998

For me (just like he was for every other baseball fan in St. Louis), Mark McGwire was a larger than life figure. On July 31, 1997, I remember being on vacation with my extended family in Oklahoma. That evening, while they all sat in our cabin, I sat outside in my car, tuned in to the Cardinals game on KMOX hoping to receive word of a trade for Big Mac.

Similarly, I remember it was on my second wedding anniversary a month and a half later that he signed the 3-year, $28.5 million extension that meant he would be staying in St. Louis. In typically dramatic Big Mac fashion, that night the first time he stepped to the plate, he hit a 500+ foot home run off Dodgers pitcher Ramon Martinez (Pedro’s brother). It was his 52nd of the year and McGwire-mania was on the rise.

It was just short of a year later that McGwire-mania hit its apex. All season long, Big Mac had been “must-see TV.” If I was outside listening to the game on my headphones while I mowed the lawn, you could be sure that I’d just happen to come inside for a cold glass of water every time Big Mac came to the plate. You knew that if he was at the plate, something special might happen. And you didn’t want to miss it.

This was never more true than September 8, 1998. It was a Tuesday, and the Cards were hosting the Cubs for the finale of the odd two-game series before heading out on a road trip. After a season’s worth of speculation and anticipation, McGwire stood on the precipice of history. Having hit his 61st home run the day before to tie Roger Maris’s epic 1961 total, he now had the chance to claim the record for himself.

There was no doubt in my mind that McGwire would do it that night. And there was no doubt in my mind that I had to be there. I didn’t have tickets and certainly didn’t have the kind of money that scalpers were requesting, but I decided that I wanted to at least be at Busch Stadium when it happened, even if I couldn’t be inside Busch Stadium.

I owned a little handheld TV, and I figured that I could watch history happen on TV there just as easily as anywhere else. The only issue was, I needed to make sure I had batteries to keep me powered up throughout the game, so I ran to the store over my lunch break to grab some. While there, I got a call from my wife with the most amazing news: Her best friend had planned on going to the game with her husband, Kevin, but had decided to stay home and wanted to offer me her ticket!

After getting off of work, I met Kevin (who was also a good friend of mine), and we headed to the game. Our tickets were in the upper deck of left field. There was a lot of talk about how much the home run ball would be worth. This speculation didn’t seem to apply to our situation, as we were high above where anybody could possibly ever hit one. Even so, McGwire did have a penchant for doing the impossible…

Every game I went to, I always purchased a scorecard and kept score. This night though, they were sold out of scorecards. Speculators had bought up all of them in hopes of being able to resell them at a huge profit. I had to get resourceful. Not having any other options, I kept score on the back of one of my business cards!

Big Mac’s first time at the plate, he grounded out to short to end the first inning. There were two out in the fourth the second time he came to the plate. Delino DeShields had led off the first with a single, but had been caught stealing and Cubs hurler Steve Trachsel had retired all ten of the other batters he had faced, including four via the strikeout. On his first pitch in this at bat though, McGwire uncurled his Paul Bunyanesque frame with a swing that send a line drive screaming toward the left-field corner. It would barely clear the wall, and end up being the shortest home run McGwire would hit all season!

From our angle in the upper deck in right field, it was impossible to see the ball fly over the wall. Interestingly, I had the same type of experience almost 13 years earlier when I was high in the right field stands for Ozzie Smith’s “Go Crazy, Folks!” home run off the Dodgers. And as crazy as we went on that October afternoon in 1985, I think we went even more crazy on this September night in 1998.

Big Mac circled the bases, congratulated by Cubs fielders near each base before being greeted by his teammates at the plate. Fireworks exploded, streamers flew. Within two minutes, a giant sign with a picture of McGwire and the number “62” was raised above the centerfield scoreboard. 

The rest of the game was pretty much the most anti-climactic experience I had ever had, with the exception of a couple things. Most folks probably don’t remember this, but that was also the night J.D. Drew made his MLB debut. Kevin and I both knew what a huge prospect he was supposed to be and we counted ourselves fortunate to have been there for the first plate appearance of what we hoped would be a Hall of Fame career with the Cardinals. He would be solid, though not spectacular, with the Cardinals over the next five seasons, and his lasting legacy with the Redbirds rests primarily in the fact that he was the main player traded in the deal that brought Adam Wainwright to St. Louis.

The other thing that happened that night was we of course got to cheer for McGwire in his remaining two plate experiences, both of which ended in walks. After one of them (in the sixth), Ray Lankford and Ron Gant hit back-to-back home runs, but frankly, nobody cared. And the Cardinals beat the Cubs that night 6-3, but again, that was really inconsequential. We all (Cubs fans and Cardinals fans alike) had gotten to see what we wanted to see: History.

After the game, Kevin and I headed down to the field boxes where his sister and her husband were sitting. From there we watched the post-game festivities which included the Cardinals lavishing McGwire with gifts and Cardinals groundskeeper Tim Forneris (who had retrieved the potential million dollar souvenir) informing him “Mr. McGwire, I think I have something that belongs to you.”

By the time we left the stadium, it must have been at least an hour after the game had ended. Even so, people were all over the place. There were folks selling (and selling out of) every kind of souvenir imaginable. Extra editions of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch were being distributed and the feeling of euphoria was not dissimilar to what it would have been had the Cardinals won the World Series that night!

Unbeknownst to me, Kevin purchased a scorecard from a scalper outside the stadium and gave it to me, knowing I hadn’t been able to get one.  Moved by his generosity throughout the night and thankful for the amazing experience I’d had, I wanted to do something for him. The next day I got a Mark McGwire rookie card form my card collection and gave it to him for his son, who had been born just months earlier.

As the season wound down, the Cardinals failed to catch the Cubs for a playoff spot. Even so, heading into the season’s final weekend, there was still a race Cardinals fans cared deeply about: The Great Home Run Race of 1998. Heading into the final three games on the schedule, both McGwire and Sosa had 65 home runs. Big Mac had only hit three homers in the 15 games since September 8^th, but on Friday night, he tallied number 66. Sosa also hit a home run, so heading game 161, they were tied.

I was (of course) thrilled to be going to the final two games of the season, again with Kevin. I vividly remember the discussion we had on our way to Saturday’s game. As we drove toward the stadium I had the craziest thought. “You know?” I said. “All he has to do is hit two today AND hit two tomorrow, and he’d end up with 70.” It was a preposterous thought. To expect somebody (even Big Mac) to hit two home runs in a game was ridiculous. To expect it in back-to-back games was patently absurd. And yet, with all that he had shown us that season, it didn’t seem that outrageous.

We were sitting in the same section as we had been when McGwire hit number 62. And once again, he put on a show for us. In the bottom of the 4^th of a scoreless game against the Expos and future Cardinal, Dustin Hermanson, Big Mac hit a line drive over the left field wall. It gave the Cardinals a 1-0 lead, but far more importantly, it gave him 67 on the season and stretched his lead over Sosa to two.

Then in the bottom of the seventh, with the Expos leading by a pair, McGwire hit a two-run bomb that tied the game. The Expos would score in the tenth, but McGwire would get one more at bat. Joe McEwing and J.D. Drew were retired to lead off the bottom half, but with the Cardinals down to their final out, the crowd rose to its feet in anticipation of some more Big Mac magic. On a 3-2 pitch, our hero grounded out to third, ending the game. Our disappointment was tempered though not only by the fact that McGwire had twice that afternoon added to his magical season, but also by the hope that there might still be a little magic left for the next day.

We arrived at Busch Stadium and settled into our (incredible) seats. For years, Kevin’s family had not just season tickets, but row one field box seats. On this day, for game 162 of the season, Kevin had the family tickets, and I once again was the beneficiary.

In the first, McGwire hit a single to centerfield, leaving us all strangely disappointed. When he came to the plate in the 3^rd, the score was now 2-2 with two out and nobody on. He would not disappoint again. He launched number 69 on the season deep to left field to give the Cardinals a 3-2 lead. The crowd erupted and jubilation reigned as Big Mac once again trotted around the bases. He was now three ahead of Sosa, a lead that seemed comfortable if not unbeatable.

  

McGwire’s work for the day was not over yet though. I recalled the conversation I’d had with Kevin a little more than 24 hours earlier. Seventy would be such a nice, round number! In the fifth, much to the displeasure of the sell-out crowd, Expos hurler Mike Thurman (who had allowed number 69) walked McGwire on four pitches. We all knew that he would likely only get one more opportunity.

That opportunity came in the eighth. The game was once again tied, with two on and two out. McGwire jumped on the first pitch he saw from Carl Pavano and sent a line shot into left field. It cleared the left outfield wall and we were amazed at what he’d accomplished. At the same time though, we really weren’t all that surprised. All season long, McGwire had done the impossible.

Of course, when Barry Bonds broke McGwire’s record three years later, that took a little of the shine off the experience. And it was even more greatly diminished by the revelations that subsequently came out regarding McGwire steroid usage. Even so, the way I felt (both on September 8^th and September 27^th) is something that will always stick with me. What a blessing it was to have witnessed such events in person!

Grand Blanc Little League Championship

Last night I experienced what just might be my favorite baseball moment ever. In the championship game of the Grand Blanc Little League (12u), my son's team won a thrilling contest by the score of 19-18 to cap off a 14-0-2 season. I've helped coach his teams for six years, and this was by far the best group of kids we've ever had -- even apart from their considerable baseball talents!

Jack batted cleanup all season and had a great year at the plate. He went 23-43 with 4 home runs, 4 triples, 1 double, 32 RBIs and 16 walks (.535 avg, 1.023 slg, .661 obp). In addition to this, he was one of the team's top pitchers, and was on the mound to throw the season's final pitch (shown below).

  GBLL Championship Game - Final

  Red Sox    4  4  4  1  1  4  - 18
  Cardinals   1  5  5  2  6  x  - 19

  Win - Brian (2-0)

  Save - Jack (2)

  Home Runs - Noah (2), Jason (1)

 

Big Mac's #500

Okay...I think I'm actually going to start posting stuff here with a little regularity ("best laid plans of mice and men" and all that).

Next month marks the 20th anniversary of a trip I took with Eric Hendrickson, my best friend from high school. Over the course of a week-and-a-half, we attended seven baseball games in six cities, visited the Hall of Fame, saw Niagara Falls and spent a day sight-seeing in New York City. It goes without saying that we had a blast. For the 20th anniversary, I intend to chronicle our daily activities and post pictures that we took on our old cameras (remember film?).

In the meantime, I recently came across this photo which I took on August 5, 1999. Please excuse the poor contrast; unfortunately there was some user error on the part of the photographer. Even so, I thought I'd share it.

I attended the game that night with a group from Enterprise Rent-A-Car (for whom I worked at the time). The 45,106 people in attendance came to the park hoping to see history, and the odds were in our favor. Coming in to that game, Mark McGwire was parked on 499 home runs and Tony Gwynn of the visiting San Diego Padres had 2,998 hits. Gwynn received rousing ovations each time he came to the plate that night, but would only get one hit on the evening. Sadly #3,000 would have to wait for the next night in Montreal, in front of an announced crowd of 13,540.

McGwire, on the other hand, did not disappoint. On the very swing pictured below, eleven months after I had been present for his 62nd home run of the 1998 season, Big Mac launched one into the stands becoming just the 16th player in Major League history with 500 home runs. Are these memories tarnished by subsequent steroid revelations? Sure. But they were still great moments at the time and I remember them fondly.

My photo of Big Mac going deep for the 500th time

Go Crazy Folks, He is the Rally Squirrel!

I haven't posted anything here for quite a while, but with the appearance of (and excitement about) the Rally Squirrel, I thought perhaps this was the time.

In the Cardinals' two home playoff games this week, a squirrel appeared, making mad dashes across the field.  "The Rally Squirrel" has rapidly picked up somewhat of a cult following in St. Louis, and has been adopted as something of a mascot.

Randy Mayfield, one of the pastors at Central Presbyterian Church in St. Louis has even put together a song honoring the squirrel.  Here's the video.

I'm Sold on St. Louis!

The summer of 1987 was an especially wonderful one for me. I had a job working about one hour per day cleaning a local drug store which netted me paychecks of about $42 twice per month. Almost every penny I earned that summer went to one of two things: baseball cards or baseball tickets.

It was a great season to be a Cardinals fan. The Running Redbirds would win their second National League Pennant in three years (in addition to a World Series victory in 1982) as Whiteyball reigned in St. Louis. It seemed that my friend Craig and I lived at Busch Stadium that summer. Even though we were only 15 at the time (I turned 16 the final weekend of the season), I managed to get to 25 games that season.

The other day, I found the following video of Ralph Butler and "I'm Sold on St. Louis," produced in 1987. It reminded me of what a wonderful era it was to be a Cardinals fan.

The Utility Man

This has nothing to do with my collection of memorabilia, but if you like the 1980s Cardinals, you'll probably like this. If you like the Sklar Brothers, you'll probably like this. And if, like me, you like both the 1980s Cardinals and the Sklar Brothers, then you'll definitely like this.

Rick Ankiel

This is another one of my very favorite pieces of memorabilia...for many reasons. First of all, the picture is of Rick Ankiel. I don't know that there has ever been a baseball player that I've rooted harder for than I've rooted for Ankiel.


Secondly, it's one of my favorite pieces because it's actually a picture that I took. I had seats one night right down by the field. I took my camera and my zoom lens and...voila! There you have it. I had it blown up to an 8x10 and waited for the opportunity to have Ankiel sign it, an opportunity that came a year or so later when I was working at Enterprise and Ankiel rented a car.

If you're reading this, you're probably a baseball fan. And if you're a baseball fan, you probably know Ankiel's story. At one time the top pitching prospect in baseball, Ankiel burst onto the scene at the end of the 1999 season. I was seated down low, behind home plate at a game against the Padres late that season when Ankiel pitched two innings of relief, striking out six. I've NEVER seen a pitcher have more electric stuff than he had that night. The only batter to reach base against him was Hall of Famer Tony Gwynn, but even that comes with an asterisk. A pitch before Gwynn singled, Ankiel actually froze him on a 2-2 curve ball that I will go to my grave saying was a strike, but 19-year old rookies don't get called third strikes against the likes of a Tony Gwynn. In my mind though, that was the evening Ankiel actually struck out seven in two innings!

Ankiel's 2000 season was highly successful. Then, inexplicably, he completely lost the ability to control where he was throwing the ball. I was at game 1 of the 2000 NLDS when it all began with six walks and five wild pitches in less than three innings. It is to this day one of the most mystifying things I've ever seen.

The next season, Ankiel's wildness continued. He would end up falling to the lowest levels of the minor leagues, only to eventually work his way back to the majors almost four years later at the end of the 2004 season. Ankiel pitched well, walking only one batter in 10 innings pitched, and hopes were high for him coming into the 2005 season.  

During spring training of 2005 though, Ankiel abruptly announced to the team that he was going to retire. The mental strain of pitching in the big leagues was more than he wanted to bear. The Cardinals management asked Ankiel to consider trying to be an outfielder instead. He agreed to the plan and returned once more to the lowest levels of the minor leagues.  

After spending nearly three more years in the minor leagues, Ankiel made it to the majors for the third time. On August 9, 2007 he made his big league debut as an outfielder. I am not ashamed to say I shed a tear or two when, in the seventh inning, he hit a three run homer off Doug Brocail.

Now, four seasons later, Ankiel is the starting center fielder for the Washington Nationals, who happen to be in St. Louis playing the Cardinals. This morning Rick Ankiel took out this ad in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. It prompted me to think about what a classy guy he is and what a wonderful example he is of perseverance. And it prompted me to think of the autographed photo that appears at the top of this entry. Good luck, Rick, with the rest of your career, and thank you too!

UPDATE (May, 2017): Make sure to check out Rick's book, The Phenomenon, authored with Tim Brown.

Seat Cushion Night

If you are unaware of what the above pictures are, it's a pretty safe bet you weren't a Cardinal fan in the 1980s.  From 1985-1988, the Cardinals and the Mets each won the NL East twice. It was an incredibly heated rivalry as the two teams battled for divisional supremacy.

On April 18, 1987, the two teams did battle in St. Louis. The Cardinals fell behind 5-0, only to score five in the fourth inning, capped off by a bases loaded walk to Tom Herr. Fans rejoiced at the Cardinal comeback by littering the field frisbee-style with the seat cushions given out as promotional souvenirs. There were so many thrown on the field that there was actually an announcement made that the Cardinals would have to forfeit the game if it continued.

After the field was cleaned up, the Cardinals took the lead in the sixth on an RBI double by Herr, only to see the Mets score two in the top of the ninth to take an 7-6 lead. The Cardinals tied it in the bottom of the ninth in typical Whiteyball fashion as Ozzie Smith walked, went to second on a sacrifice bunt by Herr, stole third and scored on the wild throw by the catcher.

In the tenth, the Mets took the lead once more, only to see the Cardinals tie the game on a Tom Pagnozzi single, load the bases, and, well, that's when this happened.

A little trivia here...Question: How many home runs did Herr hit in his career? Answer: 28 (which also was Herr's uniform number). I'm not sure how many of those I saw in person, but I know I saw at least one of them. And unlike just about everyone else who was there, I still have the seat cushion to prove it!