The 1988 World Series

"You know, we just don't recognize the most significant moments of our lives while they're happening."

Dr. Archibald "Moonlight" Graham, Field of Dreams

Thirty-six years ago this month, I took my dad to a baseball game, not unlike last night's game. Now, my dad wasn’t as into baseball as I was. He was more of a football fan, but he had taken me to many Dodger games and had come to all my sporting events growing up.

Plus, I wanted to take my dad to the World Series! A small but meaningful thank you. My dad and I didn’t always get along, and it would be easy to focus on that, but in thinking back, the blessing he was to me far outweighs our quarrels.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I was thirty-three and would meet the love of my life in just about a year. I was also moving along in the insurance business and doing pretty well. One of the managers at my office was a major Dodgers fan and had even played catcher at the Dodger Adult Baseball Camp.

Occasionally, I jokingly asked him if he could get me tickets if the Dodgers made it to the World Series.

They did, and he did. I could have kissed him!

The Dodgers had home field advantage, so the first two games were played at Dodger Stadium. This was also the year that Orel Hershiser set the record for fifty-nine consecutive scoreless innings, a record that still stands.

Our seats were close on the Reserve Level, just inside third base. The Oakland A’s were heavily favored to win. Bash Brothers Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco were supposed to slaughter the Dodgers.

With two outs in the ninth, the score was 4-3 in favor of the A’s, and my dad turned to me and said, “Well, they gave it a good try.”

I said, with no real conviction, “It ain’t over yet,” hoping that somehow, they could pull it off. Taillights could be seen over the center field wall, as many cars were leaving early to beat the crowd.

The Dodgers’ star slugger, Kirk Gibson, had been injured in a previous playoff game, hadn’t suited up, and wasn’t even in the dugout. But unbeknownst to the 55,983 fans, from a table in the trainer’s room late in the game, he called for manager Tommy Lasorda and said, “I think I can hit for you, Skipper.”

Gibson stayed out of sight. Dave Anderson stood in the on-deck circle while Mike Davis was walked by Dennis Eckersley, who led all of baseball with forty-five saves that season.

Lasorda pulled Anderson back, and out of the tunnel came Gibson. The crowd went wild, but clearly Gibson could barely walk, let alone hit. After several tense pitches, he faced a full count, three balls and two strikes.

Sports Illustrated called what happened next one of the twenty-five greatest moments in sport. Gibson took one last wild swing and hit it over the right-field fence for a 5-4 walk-off win against the A’s.

The crowd went absolutely wild, screaming, yelling, and everything else you can think of. Watch this video if you would like to see the bottom of the ninth action with Vin Scully announcing.

The hit played over and over again on the giant Diamond Vision screen, and the crowd seemed to cheer forever. Nobody would leave until they stopped showing Gibson’s hit, and it was just as crazy in the parking lot, fans celebrating and high-fiving total strangers in a sea of joy, like the stroke of midnight in Times Square. I lost my voice for two days, as I’m sure lots of other people did too.

Bottom of the ninth, first game of the World Series, two outs against you, full count, Vinny calling the game. Is there anything better?

There is — being there with my dad.

-Hank

"The 1988 World Series," from The Saturday Morning Post at hankfrazee.com