<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8702190468
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
871018
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, October 18, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
TWINS' EXPLOSION OF RUNS
WAS DEJA VU TO TIGERS FANS
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
MINNEAPOLIS --  Somewhere, Jack Morris was grinning. Somewhere, Doyle
Alexender popped a beer and nodded sympathetically. Somewhere, Mike Henneman,
Frank Tanana, Willie Hernandez -- all the Tigers,  probably -- gave a sigh and
a look that could be summed up with four words: 

  "Have fun, St. Louis."

  Have fun. Your turn. What took place in the fourth inning of Saturday
night's deafening World  Series opener may have been historic, a surprise, a
bomb, but it was a painfully familiar explosion to Detroiters. Seven runs? Did
the Twins really score seven runs in one inning?
  "Wait, don't tell  us," Detroit fans interrupted. "Gary Gaetti was
involved. And that Dan Gladden guy. And the bottom of the lineup --  the
catcher with the .191 batting average? What's his name? Laudner? He had a hit,
 right? Are we right?"
  Right. Right. Right again. 
  The magic rolls on. Twins win Game 1,  10-1. Win? Is that the word?
Bombard? Shred? "Outhit us, outpitched us," the Cardinals' Vince Coleman
would say. And this morning, his teammates  are surely asking each other how
it happened so fast. 
  If they've regained their hearing, that is.  
We've heard this before, too  Call this: "How To  Seize An Opportunity" by
the Minnesota Twins. After all, St. Louis pitcher Joe Magrane, a rookie, had
held the Twins hitless through the first three innings of this game. The
55,171 inside the thunderous  Metrodome were reduced to cheering for walks.
Which they gladly did. Let's face it. They'll cheer the bullpen pitches here
if they have to.
  But then came the fourth. This was beautiful. Gaetti --  the man who
homered twice in Game 1 of the Tigers series -- opened with a single. Don
Baylor, the seemingly ageless designated hitter, followed with a single. Tom
Brunansky, he of the "Bruno" nickname  and the face that  suits it, cracked a
single of his own. And --  bam!  The bases were loaded.
  Now this, as Tiger pitchers will tell you, is not the kind of situation you
look forward to in Minnesota.  The crowd at this point was, how shall we put
it? UNBELIEVABLY LOUD! Yes. That's it. And there was still no one out. And
Kent Hrbek was up. Hrbek hit more home runs than any Twin this year. Ooh. You
don't want that. Not a grand slam.  No. Uh-uh. And Magrane (who later admitted
wearing earplugs) did not surrender one. 
  He did, however, surrender a two-run single. And the throw to catch
Brunansky at third actually hit him in the back, and bounced away, and Hrbek
sped into second base.
  So now it's 2-1, Twins, nobody out -- some people might still think this a
close game -- but if the Cardinals  were smart, they would have called a taxi.
Immediately. Instead they let Magrane pitch to Steve Lombardozzi, the No. 8
hitter. And Magrane walked him. And then Magrane walked off. Music please:
  "Happ-py  traaails, to you . . . until we meet again. . . . Happ-py
traaaails to you. . . . "
  We are not making this up. That is what they play here when opposing
pitchers leave the game. And the fans  at  this point? Well. What can we say?
They were UNBELIEVABLY LOUD!
  And they weren't done yet.
Sorry, old fella -- slam!  Now came the fun part. Now came relief pitcher
Bob Forsch, 37, the oldest  man on the St. Louis team.  And up came Tim
Laudner, that catcher with the .191 batting average. And he hit a single and
knocked in a run. Ooh. you don't want to do that. You don't want to give up a
hit to the No. 9 hitter with the bases loaded. Uh-uh. The only thing worse
than that is giving up a grand slam.
  Which is what Forsch did next.
  Yes. A 1-2 pitch to  Gladden -- whom teammates describe  as "goofy,"
"crazy," 'a prankster." St. Louis has other words for him. Gladden put that
pitch into the left field seats. And good night. This game was history. The
Star Wars music blasted over the speakers.  The crowd wet its collective
pants. Grand Slam?  Oh, my. Debris rained down on the outfield. The "Homer
Hankies" were going mad. At one point, all three St. Louis outfielders,
Coleman, Jose Oquendo and  Willie McGee, were standing with their hands on
their hips, looking up at these crazy, shaking, deliriously happy fans, and
wondering what was in the beer here.
  "They've been that way all year,"  said a delighted Kirby Puckett
afterward. Metrodome Magic. It is illogical. It is overpowering. If it was
bottled, every team in baseball would buy it. Ask the Tigers  about it
someday. They'll give  you a long explanation.
  But wait. There's plenty of time for that. This was only Game 1. Tonight of
course, is Game 2. In the same place. At the same time. With the same teams.
And the same fans.  How will they behave? Oh, let's take a wild guess:
  UNBELIEVABLY LOUD?
  Have fun, St. Louis.
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