8602180637
DETROIT FREE PRESS
861028
Tuesday, October 28, 1986
METRO FINAL CHASER
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
START SPREADING THE NEWS: METS' MIRACLES DO HAPPEN
NEW YORK -- The ball rose high over the outfield, farther and farther, and
every New York fan swallowed his chewing gum waiting for the ball to reach
its destiny. "GET OUT OF HERE YOU SON OF A--
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Forget it. Forget it all, Boston. The only thing missing in this very long,
very late, very strange World Series had finally come to pass. Home runs for
the home team. Ray Knight had hit one in the seventh inning. And now, here
in the bottom of the eighth, as sure as an omen from the gods, Darryl
Strawberry -- who had suffered indignity like no other Met in this series --
was watching his ball fall innocently over the right-center field wall,
hearing the Sinatra music explode over the loudspeakers ("START SPREADING THE
NEWS . . . ") and as the fans in Shea Stadium blew their skulls open with
noise, trotting slowly around the base paths as if he knew it all along, the
end, the inevitable. . . .
The Mets were going to win the World Series, four games to three.
Glory, glory, glory.
That's right. The Mets. The one-strike-away-from-elimination Mets, who had
come back to win in spectacular fashion in Game 6 Saturday, turned around and
did it again Monday night, winning, 8-5, taking every tendency, every warning
signal, every negative sign and tossing it in the East River.
"When you were down 3-0 in the sixth, weren't you worried?" someone would
ask Keith Hernandez, whose bases-loaded single in the sixth knocked in the
Mets' first two runs.
"You know, I never was," he would say, champagne dripping from his hair. "I
had this feeling all night. . . . " He pointed to his heart. "I had a feeling
right here."
Right there. Where else?
Hadn't Boston's Bruce Hurst looked unbeatable against these Mets for the
first five innings? "Forget Bruce Hurst," the Mets seemed to say. Hadn't Dave
Henderson -- always-the-hero Dave Henderson -- come to bat with the tying run
on base in the eighth? "Forget Dave Henderson," the Mets seemed to say. Hadn't
Ron Darling, their own handsome hero, let them down in the second inning,
surrendering three early runs to Boston, including two homers? "Forget that,"
the Mets seemed to say. "Darling? He's OK."
In classic New York fashion, the Mets arrived fashionably late for their
own championship, their bats not showing up until the sixth inning. But oh,
how they showed up! With all the aplomb of Bruce Springsteen bounding
onstage, of Sinatra taking over Carnegie Hall.
"Just a matter of time," Strawberry would say afterward, and surely few
words were ever as sweet coming out.
Every Met got a key hit. Didn't it seem that way? Hernandez and Mookie
Wilson and Knight, who would win the Series MVP award, and . . . hell, before
it was over, even Jesse Orosco, the relief pitcher, would drive in a run.
And finally, when Orosco put that last pitch past Marty Barrett --
ironically the best hitter in this Series -- and struck him out swinging, and
the earth moved, and the skies opened, and Orosco leaped halfway to the
lights, lifting his legs, never wanting to come down . . .
Well, if it's one thing you needn't tell New York, it's how to celebrate.
"METS! METS! METS! . . . "
This was a show of strength in a city where only the strong survive. How many
people figured it was over when Boston took a 3-0 lead into the final three
innings? Well, perhaps not that many. Certainly not those who had watched
this Series from the start. Both of these teams had been one out away from
winter vacations at some point in the last few weeks. And at times, both
seemed destined to win -- and to lose.
In the end, sadly, it was Boston that lived up to its history.
Oh my, yes. Boston. The Red Sox had gone 180 degrees, from one end of the
earth to the other. In the playoffs, they had been one strike away from going
home losers and on Saturday night they were one strike away from going home
winners, World Series winners, and now . . .
Oh, my.
"Can you describe how you feel?" someone asked Barrett afterward.
"Well," he said, sighing, "what goes around comes around, I suppose."
He grinned, but it was a sad grin. "I just didn't think it would come
around this fast."
How tough is this for Boston -- the team and the city? Very tough. Very,
very tough. In baseball championships, the Red Sox are the kid at the end of
the lunch line who waits until everybody else has gone, only to reach the
front and see them all ahead of him again. How long had the Red Sox been
without winning the World Series? Sixty-eight years?
They are at the end of the line again. Their dugout in that final inning
was a study in agony. Calvin Schiraldi -- who let the game get away -- burying
his head in a towel. Jim Rice -- whose most consistent quote was "I've waited
a long time for this" -- staring at the ground. Dwight Evans -- with Rice, the
only man left from the 1975 team that lost Boston's last Seventh Game --
staring at the sky, perhaps trying to figure out why his team seems so
cursed.
How else could it end for Boston? Tragedy seems to follow the Red Sox like
a loyal dog. Didn't they have the tying run at second in the eighth inning
with nobody out? Didn't they have Rich Gedman and Henderson and Don Baylor at
the plate? Didn't they have the better starting pitcher? Didn't they grab the
early lead? Weren't they supposed to benefit from the rain delay? And didn't
they lose anyhow?
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Let John McNamara call it "crap." If the Red Sox aren't jinxed, then the
New York subways are safe at midnight.
And what of New York? Madness! The last glimpse of Shea saw four of the
Mets sitting on the pitcher's mound, spraying champagne as the crowd chanted,
"WE'RE NO. 1!"
Where do you begin? They had heroes all over their lineup Monday night.
Strawberry coming back at last with the demoralizing home run, just minutes
after Boston had closed the gap to one run. And Knight, with his
seventh-inning home run. And Hernandez, and oh -- what of pitcher Sid
Fernandez?
Fernandez? Yes. "The unsung hero of this game," Gary Carter would yell.
He was the second Hawaiian-born pitcher to take the mound for the Mets this
night, but his 2 1/3-inning, no-hit, four-strikeout performance in relief of
Darling simply inspired his team to victory.
"SID!" someone screamed at him in the frenzied, soaking clubhouse
afterward. "YOU'RE BIGGER THAN MAUI!"
And the Mets -- favorites from Day 1 in this baseball season that is
finally, finally over -- are at long last, bigger than their expectations.
Moments after they won Game 6 Saturday night, Wilson ran into the clubhouse
and encountered Strawberry with his hand held high.
"Miracles always happen!" Strawberry yelled, slapping Wilson's palm.
"Miracles always happen!"
They have happened once again.
Mets. Mets. Mets.
The World Series is theirs.
COLUMN;GAME;WORLD SERIES