30 Years Later: "Little Roller Up Along First..."

Every generation has its defining moment.  People who grew up in the 1960s know exactly where they were when President Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated.  In the 1980s, every American knows where they were when the Space Shuttle exploded.  It's no different for Mets fans.

People who grew up rooting for the Mets remember every detail of the 1969 Miracle Mets' run to the World Series.  Fans of my generation well up with happy tears when you mention two words to them:  Game Six.  How can anyone forget the night of October 25, 1986?

The Mets were facing elimination entering Game Six of the 1986 World Series.  They fought back to tie the Series at Fenway Park after dropping the first two games of the Fall Classic at Shea Stadium.  Then Bruce Hurst shut them down in Game Five to send the series back to New York with the Mets down three games to two.

It was up to Bob Ojeda to save the Mets' season.  He was opposed by Roger Clemens, who was on his way to his first Cy Young Award.  Ojeda was also called upon for Game Six of the 1986 NLCS against the Astros, a game in which the Mets defeated Houston in 16 innings to claim the National League pennant.  In that game, Ojeda struggled early, giving up three runs in the first inning before settling down.  Game Six of the 1986 World Series was no different for Ojeda.  He gave up single runs to the Red Sox in each of the first two innings, but then settled down.

When Ojeda was replaced by Roger McDowell to start the seventh inning, the Mets had come back against Roger Clemens to tie the score at 2.  Although the drama that unfolded in the tenth inning is what Game Six is most known for, a number of interesting events occurred in the seventh inning that are often forgotten.

With one out and Marty Barrett on first base for the Red Sox, Jim Rice hit a ground ball near the third base line that barely stayed fair.  Ray Knight fielded it and threw wildly to first base, with the ball popping in and out of the glove of a leaping Keith Hernandez.  That brought up Dwight Evans with runners on the corners.  Evans hit a ground ball for the second out of the inning, but Barrett scored the go-ahead run and Rice was able to advance to second base.  That was when Mookie Wilson became a hero for the first time that night.

Roger McDowell was able to get ahead of Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman by throwing strikes on the first two pitches, but Gedman then grounded the 0-2 pitch from McDowell between short and third for a base hit that appeared to give the Red Sox an insurance run.  However, Mookie Wilson charged the ball and fired a strike to Gary Carter at home plate to cut down a sliding Jim Rice for the third out of the inning.

The defensive efforts of Wilson and Carter helped keep the Red Sox lead at one, a lead that would be erased when the Mets came up to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning.

Roger Clemens had been pinch hit for in the top of the eighth inning, so the Red Sox brought in former Met Calvin Schiraldi to pitch the bottom of the eighth.  Schiraldi had been brilliant in relief for the Red Sox during the regular season, compiling a 4-2 record and a sparking 1.41 ERA.  However, all that changed once Lee Mazzilli led off the inning with a base hit.  Lenny Dykstra followed with a sacrifice bunt, but he reached first base safely when Schiraldi threw wildly to second base in a failed attempt to nail Mazzilli.  Now the Mets had two men on with nobody out for Wally Backman, who laid down a bunt of his own.  His successful sacrifice moved Mazzilli and Dykstra into scoring position for Keith Hernandez, who was intentionally walked to load the bases.  That brought up Gary Carter.  On a 3-0 pitch, Carter had the green light and lined a sacrifice fly to left field.  The fly ball allowed Mazzilli to score the tying run.  When neither team scored in the ninth inning, the stage was set for the most dramatic frame in Mets history.

The inning started with a bang, but not the one wanted by Mets fans.  Dave Henderson led off the tenth with a laser beam down the left field line that just stayed fair as it cleared the wall.  The home run off Rick Aguilera silenced the Shea Stadium crowd of 55,078 and gave the Red Sox a 4-3 lead.  They weren't done yet.  Aguilera came back to strike out the next two batters but then proceeded to give up a double to Wade Boggs and a run-scoring single to Marty Barrett.  The latter hit gave the Sox an insurance run as the lead was now 5-3.  The next batter was hit by a pitch.  Who was the victim of Aguilera's wayward offering?  None other than Bill Buckner (more on him later).  Now there were two men on base for Jim Rice.  Rice could have redeemed himself for being thrown out at home in the seventh inning with a hit in the tenth.  However, Rice failed to add to the Red Sox lead when he flied out to Lee Mazzilli in right.  His failure to come through in two crucial spots set up the events in the bottom of the tenth inning for the Mets.

Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez were due to lead off in the bottom of the tenth inning.  However, two fly balls later and the Mets were down to their final out with no one on base.  The dream was one out away from becoming a nightmare.  108 regular season wins and a thrilling NLCS against the Astros would mean nothing if the Mets couldn't start a rally against Calvin Schiraldi and the Red Sox.  The Shea Stadium scoreboard was flashing "Congratulations Red Sox: 1986 World Champions" and NBC had already awarded its player of the game to Marty Barrett.  Then Gary Carter stepped up to the plate and something special began to happen.

On a 2-1 pitch from Schiraldi, Carter singled to left.  Then Kevin Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Rick Aguilera lined a hit to center on an 0-1 curveball.  The tying runs were now on base for Ray Knight.  If you recall, Knight had made an error in the seventh inning that led to a run for the Red Sox.  Perhaps this game would never have gone into extra innings had Knight not committed his error.  Knight didn't care.  All he cared about was getting a hit to continue the inning.  Unfortunately for him, Schiraldi threw his first two pitches for strikes.  The Mets were down to their final strike, but Knight had a little something to say about that.

On a pitch that was headed for the inside corner of the strike zone, Knight fisted it over Marty Barrett's head into short center for another base hit.  Carter scored from second base and Mitchell went from first to third on the hit.  The tying run was 90 feet away and the winning run was at first base.  Red Sox manager John McNamara had made up his mind.  He was going to Bob Stanley to try to win the World Series.  Stanley would face one batter, Mookie Wilson, with everything on the line.

Stanley would throw six pitches to Mookie Wilson to get the count to 2-2.  Hoping for strike three with his seventh pitch, Stanley let go of the pitch and at the same time, let go of the lead.  The pitch was way inside, causing Mookie to throw himself up in the air to avoid getting hit.  Fortunately, the ball didn't hit Mookie or Rich Gedman's glove (or home plate umpire Dale Ford for that matter).  The ball went all the way to the backstop and Kevin Mitchell was able to scamper home with the tying run.  The wild pitch also allowed Ray Knight to move into scoring position with the potential winning run.  All Mookie needed to do now was get a base hit to drive him in, or perhaps he could so something else to bring him home.

During the regular season, John McNamara had always removed first baseman Bill Buckner for defensive replacement Dave Stapleton during the late innings.  However, this time Buckner was left in the game despite the fact that he was hobbling around on two gimpy legs and had just been hit by a pitch in the previous inning.  What was McNamara's reasoning for the decision?  He wanted Buckner to be on the field to celebrate their championship with his teammates.  Instead, Buckner was on the field for a different celebration.

Buckner was at first base as the count went to 3-2 on Mookie Wilson.  A mountain of pressure had been lifted off his shoulders once he went airborne to elude Stanley's pitch.  A relaxed Mookie came back to the plate to finish what he came up there to do.  After fouling off two more pitches, including a line drive that curved foul down the left field line, Wilson hit a slow ground ball that hugged the first base foul line, bringing Mets fans to their feet as Bill Buckner hobbled to the line in an attempt to field it.  I'll let NBC broadcaster Vin Scully describe what happened.

"Little roller up along first.  Behind the bag!  It gets through Buckner.  Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!"

A miracle had happened on the diamond.  Perhaps Mookie's grounder hit a pebble.  Perhaps Buckner took his eyes off the ball as he watched Mookie sprint down the first base line.  Perhaps God was a Mets fan.  Regardless of what caused it to happen, Mookie's grounder found its way under Buckner's glove and the Mets lived to see another day.  (Buckner later admitted in the film "Catching Hell" that his momentum as he approached the first base line caused his glove to close on its own, a split second before he would have fielded it.  With the glove closed before the ball reached it, the grounder was able to scoot by the gimpy first baseman.)

As a dejected Bill Buckner walked off the field, Shea Stadium was rocking as it never had before.  Mookie Wilson was still running towards second base because he had no idea that Ray Knight had scored the winning run.  Ron Darling, who was scheduled to start the seventh and deciding game of the World Series the following night (even though it was rained out and played two nights later), admitted that he could see dust falling from the roof of the Mets dugout because of the vibrations caused by the fans jumping up and down over it.  Keith Hernandez had left the dugout to go into Davey Johnson's office after making the second out of the inning, but never moved from the chair he was sitting in, even after the historic rally had begun because as he admitted afterwards, the chair he was sitting on had hits in it.

As the unbelievable events were flashing on the TV screen for those of us who weren't fortunate enough to have tickets to the game, Vin Scully came back on the air after a long pause to tell the viewers everything they needed to know about what they had just seen unfold at Shea Stadium on that Saturday night.  The recently retired Hall-of-Fame broadcaster said:

"If one picture is worth a thousand words, you have seen about a million words.  But more than that, you have seen an absolutely bizarre finish to Game Six of the 1986 World Series.  The Mets are not only alive, they are well and they will play the Red Sox in Game Seven tomorrow."

Game Six didn't give the Mets the World Championship as many baseball fans mistakenly believe.  There was still one game left to play.  Although it was scheduled for the following night, rain put a hold on Game Seven until the night of Monday, October 27.  Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, who had been scheduled to start the seventh game for the Red Sox, was scratched from his start to allow Met killer Bruce Hurst to pitch.  But I'll leave that narrative for another night.

For now, think of the memories you have of that unbelievable Game Six.  Imagine how different things would have been if Jim Rice had not been thrown out at home plate in the seventh inning, or if Bob Stanley had relieved Calvin Schiraldi before Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell or Ray Knight produced base hits in the tenth inning.  Mets fans who celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Miracle Mets during Citi Field's inaugural campaign might still be talking about that team as their only championship squad.

A miracle happened at Shea Stadium 30 years ago today, on October 25, 1986.  It is the single greatest Mets memory I have.  I'm sure for many of you reading this, it's your favorite Mets memory as well.  Do Mets fans believe in miracles?  If you watched Game Six of the 1986 World Series, the answer is a definite yes.

One Mo-MET In Time: Mookie Wilson

A legendary player is known for many things.  Mention Willie Mays to a casual baseball fan and that person might bring up the Say Hey Kid's catch in the 1954 World Series or his 660 career home runs.  Fans questioned about Tom Seaver could discuss his near-perfect game in 1969, his three Cy Young Awards or the Midnight Massacre trade to Cincinnati.

But what about players who weren't first ballot Hall of Famers?  Or those who didn't even make an appearance in an All-Star Game?  Naturally, those players are going to be known for far less.  However, every once in a while, a player will do something that he will forever be remembered for.  Whether it be a memorable season, a special game or just a bizarre play, that athlete will have to live with that moment and be linked to it long after his baseball career is over.  And those moments are not always positive - even if the rest of the player's career was - much to the chagrin of that player.

There have been numerous Mets players who will always be known for one thing above anything else they accomplished on a baseball field.  This series will focus on some of those players and discuss not only the primary things for which they are remembered, but also the events and occurrences that may not immediately come to mind or have simply been forgotten that each player was responsible for.

One such player spent an entire decade in a Mets uniform and when he played his final game as a Met, he was the team's all-time leader in multiple offensive categories.  He was also one of the most exciting and beloved players in team history.  But ask anyone about his career and it will always come down to just one moment.

Mookie Wilson should be known for far more than just one memorable moment.

William Hayward Wilson was a second round draft pick in 1977 and quickly advanced through the Mets' minor league system.  His blazing speed helped him leg out 25 triples and steal 87 bases between the Double-A and Triple-A level in 1978 and 1979.  But with All-Star and fan-favorite Lee Mazzilli playing center field at Shea Stadium, Wilson had no position to play at the big league level, so he began the 1980 campaign at AAA-Tidewater.  Also hurting Wilson was the fact that he was solely a right-handed hitter, while Mazzilli batted from both sides of the plate.  So upon returning to Tidewater for a second season, Wilson took it upon himself to learn how to hit left-handed.

The decision paid off beautifully, as the new switch-hitter batted .295 for the Tides with 14 triples, 92 runs scored and 50 stolen bases.  His year at Tidewater caught the eye of the front office, and despite having Mazzilli entrenched in center field, the Mets called up Wilson in September for his first taste of the big leagues.  Wilson batted .248 with three triples, seven steals and 16 runs scored in 27 games.  He wouldn't return to the minors again for six years.

As the 1981 season opened, Wilson still did not have a regular position because of the presence of Lee Mazzilli, so manager Joe Torre platooned Wilson with Joel Youngblood in right field.  But an injury to newly-reacquired first baseman Rusty Staub forced Torre to move left fielder Dave Kingman to first, causing Mazzilli to move to left field, which opened up a spot for Wilson.  Wilson took advantage of the opportunity, leading the team in runs scored (49), triples (8) and stolen bases (24) in the strike-shortened season.

With Wilson claiming center field as his own, the Mets used the opportunity to trade Mazzilli - their main box office attraction since Tom Seaver was dealt away in 1977 - to Texas for two young pitchers, Ron Darling and Walt Terrell.  Darling would go on to become a vital cog in the Mets' resurgence during the mid-'80s, while Terrell was sent to Detroit in a deal that brought Howard Johnson to New York.  Wilson, on the other hand, became a mainstay in the Mets lineup for the next three seasons.

From 1982 to 1984, Wilson was one of the premier leadoff hitters in the National League.  Although he didn't walk much (76 free passes during the three seasons) and struck out a little too much (295 Ks), Wilson ranked in the top ten among all National League hitters in several categories during those three campaigns, including hits (516; 7th in the NL), triples (25; T-3rd), runs scored (269; 7th) and stolen bases (158; 4th).  The lofty stolen base totals allowed Wilson to become the Mets' all-time leader in that category, as he supplanted Lee Mazzilli - Mookie always seemed to be taking something away from Maz whenever he could - when he stole his 140th career base in a game against the Pittsburgh Pirates on September 27, 1983.  And who got a great view of the record-setting theft from the Pirates dugout?  That would be none other than Mazzilli, who by then had been traded to Pittsburgh and had been relegated to pinch-hitting duties.

Wilson was the starting center fielder for the Mets entering the 1985 season, but a sore shoulder limited him to pinch-running duties in late April and early May.  Darryl Strawberry had filled in for Wilson for five games, but the Straw Man was not a center fielder.  Once the Mets realized that Darryl belonged in right, they called up Lenny Dykstra to fill the void left by Wilson.  Dykstra caught the Mets' eye in 1983 when he stole 105 bases at Class A-Lynchburg.  He was a scrappy player who was tough as nails and would go all out to help his team win.  In other words, he was just the type of player manager Davey Johnson loved.

Eventually, Wilson's shoulder required surgery, and the center fielder was out of action for two months during the latter part of the season.  In his absence, Dykstra gave the Mets everything Mookie did.  He ran down fly balls in the gap.  He stretched singles into doubles and doubles into triples.  He stole bases.  But there was one thing Dykstra did far better than Wilson.  He was patient at the plate and had a good eye.  Whereas Mookie struck out four times for every time he walked, Dykstra was more likely to walk than strike out.  In fact, when Dykstra's major league career ended following the 1996 season, he had drawn more walks than strikeouts in ten of his 12 seasons.

Although Wilson wasn't thrilled with losing playing time to the younger Dykstra, he took his new platoon role as a challenge.  Gone were the days when he racked up 600-plus plate appearances.  But in his diminished role, Wilson learned how to become a better hitter.  From 1980 to 1984, Wilson batted .275 with a .309 on-base percentage and a .688 OPS.  Over his next four seasons - all of which involved sharing time with Dykstra - Wilson posted a .290 batting average, reached base at a .345 clip and upped his OPS nearly 100 points to .781.

By the time Wilson played his final game as a Met in 1989, he was the team's all-time leader in runs scored (592), triples (62) and stolen bases (281), and was third in hits (1,112) and doubles (170).  In ten seasons with the Mets, Wilson had become one of the team's best players and had accomplished many positive things with the club.  But one moment stood above all others, and it occurred in what is perhaps the most memorable game ever played by the franchise.

After six-plus seasons in New York, Mookie Wilson finally made it to the postseason in 1986.  A year that began with a dangerous eye injury in spring training (one that required a rehab assignment that saw him play minor league games for the first time since 1980) ended with the Mets' first division title in 13 years.  Mookie's first playoff experience did not start out well on an individual level, as the veteran collected just four hits in his first 36 postseason at-bats.  But one of those hits was a single that plated the first run in the Mets' three-run ninth-inning rally in Game 6 of the National League Championship Series against the Houston Astros.

As hard as it was for Wilson to reach base in his first nine postseason games, it seemed like he was always on base during the final four games of the World Series.  In those four games, Wilson collected six hits, one walk and was hit by a pitch.  He also reached base another way, and did it when the Mets needed it the most.

With the Red Sox one win away from securing their first championship in 68 years, the Mets had to win Game 6 at Shea Stadium to force a deciding seventh game.  The game was tied, 2-2, as the Red Sox came to bat in the seventh inning.  But a walk, a throwing error by third baseman Ray Knight and a groundout produced the go-ahead run for Boston.  The Red Sox had a chance to score a second run in the inning when catcher Rich Gedman lashed a single to left, but Wilson ended the Red Sox rally by throwing out Jim Rice at the plate.

Two Hall of Famers exchange pleasantries at the plate, courtesy of Mookie Wilson's throwing arm.  (Peter Southwick/AP)

New York eventually tied the game to send it to extra innings, but there may not have been a tenth frame had it not been for Mookie Wilson's accurate throw to nail Rice.  Had the Mets won the game in nine innings, Wilson's legacy might have been based on that throw, but the game did not reach its conclusion after each team had recorded 27 outs.

In the top of the tenth inning, Dave Henderson homered to left as Mookie could only watch the ball sail over the wall.  Boston added an insurance run on a Marty Barrett single, which was followed by Bill Buckner getting hit by a pitch.  But Jim Rice, who ended a Red Sox rally in the seventh inning, did so again in the tenth, as he flied out to right.

The Mets were now facing the reality of losing the World Series in front of their home crowd to a team that had not won a title since 1918.  And after Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez flied out to start the bottom of the tenth, that heartbreaking conclusion was becoming more and more likely.  But singles by Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell and Ray Knight - the latter coming on an 0-2 pitch - brought the Mets to within one run and put the spotlight on the shoulders of Mookie Wilson.

Wilson was never a good breaking ball hitter, and Red Sox closer Bob Stanley - who had been brought into the game to face Wilson - specialized in palm balls, sinkers and sliders.  Four pitches into the at-bat, Wilson had two strikes on him.  It was then that he decided to go to with his mantra, a phrase he had heard in church.

"Thou shalt not pass without offering."

Mookie Wilson was not going to go down without a fight.  He was determined to swing at every pitch, not allowing the game to end on a called third strike.  Simply stated, he was not going to let a pitch pass by without offering at it.  And that's exactly what he did.

Pitch No. 5 was foul tipped.  Barely.  Pitch No. 6 was then fouled off to his left.

Wilson was sticking to his guns, taking aim at every ball fired his way by Stanley.  That is, until pitch No. 7 took aim at him.

With Rich Gedman setting up on the outside part of the plate, Stanley's pitch went inside.  An acrobatic Wilson threw his body out of the way as Gedman's lunged in vain for the errant pitch.  Scoring from third base with the tying run was Mitchell, as Knight moved into scoring position.  The Mets were now a well-placed hit away from tying the game, but Wilson kept placing balls in the left and right field stands.

Pitch No. 8 was fouled off near the first base dugout.  Pitch No. 9 was lined down the left field line and into the crowd.  Then came the tenth pitch of the at-bat, a pitch that Mookie made sure to keep in fair territory.

Wilson chopped the ball into the dirt along the first base line.  The ball took three hops in the direction of a running (some might say hobbling) Bill Buckner.  Buckner, who was already playing with a bad Achilles tendon and had been struck in the ribs by a Rick Aguilera pitch in the top of the tenth, was only on the field because manager John McNamara wanted him to celebrate the final out with his teammates.  Late-inning defensive replacement Dave Stapleton, who had replaced Buckner in the final inning of each of Boston's three victories over the Mets, remained on the bench as the ball took a fourth hop and rolled by Buckner's glove into right field, giving the fragile first baseman a bruised ego to go with his bruised ribs.

Mookie Wilson did not let any strike pass without offering at it, and in doing so, hit the most famous ground ball in Mets history.  It gave the Mets an unlikely victory in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series and helped set up their championship win two nights later.

In the late 1970s, Mookie Wilson's path to the majors was blocked by Lee Mazzilli.  But through perseverance and the will to get better at his craft, Wilson finally achieved his dream of playing in the major leagues.  Similarly, in 1986, Mookie refused to make the final out of the World Series.  And that refusal to give up allowed him to run down the first base line and into the hearts and memories of Mets fans everywhere.

Mookie Wilson was a dynamic player who brought excitement to the game.  He could make an acrobatic catch as easily as he could leg out a triple, steal a base or score from second base on a groundout.  He could do so many things so well that he became the team's all-time leader in several categories.  But all that was overshadowed by a little roller up along first in the biggest game of his life.

Perhaps Mookie said it best in his memoir, "Mookie: Life, Baseball, and the '86 Mets", when he discussed the play that forever changed the course of his life and the Mets franchise.

Photo by Christian Oth/NY Times

  
 "I think everyone has to have a moment that defines them. ... But if you take that moment away and just look at my career numbers, there's nothing that jumps out at you.  So while there may be some regrets over how the play has become the focal point of my career, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."





Mets fans wouldn't trade his defining play either.  The tenth inning of Game 6 was one of many reasons why Mookie Wilson will forever be a beloved figure in the Mets community.  But it should come as no surprise that one little dribbler will always overshadow all the other wonderful moments in his career.  It would be almost impossible for it not to.


Note:  One Mo-MET In Time is a thirteen-part weekly series spotlighting those Mets players who will forever be known for a single moment, game or event, regardless of whatever else they accomplished during their tenure with the Mets.  Please come back next week for the next installment.

October 25, 1986: "Little Roller Up Along First..."

Every generation has its defining moment.  People who grew up in the 1960s know exactly where they were when President Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated.  In the 1980s, every American knows where they were when the Space Shuttle exploded.  It's no different for Mets fans.

People who grew up rooting for the Mets remember every detail of the 1969 Miracle Mets' run to the World Series.  Fans of my generation well up with happy tears when you mention two words to them:  Game 6.  How can anyone forget the night of October 25, 1986?

The Mets were facing elimination entering Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  They fought back to tie the Series at Fenway Park after dropping the first two games of the Series at Shea Stadium.  Then Bruce Hurst shut them down in Game 5 to send the series back to New York with the Mets down three games to two.

It was up to Bob Ojeda to save the Mets' season.  He was opposed by Roger Clemens, who was on his way to his first Cy Young Award.  Ojeda was also called upon for Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS against the Astros, a game in which the Mets defeated Houston in 16 innings to claim the National League pennant.  In that game, Ojeda struggled early, giving up three runs in the first inning before settling down.  Game 6 of the 1986 World Series was no different for Ojeda.  He gave up single runs to the Red Sox in each of the first two innings, but then settled down.

When Ojeda was replaced by Roger McDowell to start the seventh inning, the Mets had come back against Roger Clemens to tie the score at 2.  Although the drama that unfolded in the tenth inning is what Game 6 is most known for, a number of interesting events occurred in the seventh inning that are often forgotten.

With one out and Marty Barrett on first base for the Red Sox, Jim Rice hit a ground ball near the third base line that barely stayed fair.  Ray Knight fielded it and threw wildly to first base, with the ball popping in and out of the glove of a leaping Keith Hernandez.  That brought up Dwight Evans with runners on the corners.  Evans hit a ground ball for the second out of the inning, but Barrett scored the go-ahead run and Rice was able to advance to second base.  That was when Mookie Wilson became a hero for the first time that night.

Roger McDowell was able to get ahead of Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman by throwing strikes on the first two pitches, but Gedman then grounded the 0-2 pitch from McDowell between short and third for a base hit that appeared to give the Red Sox an insurance run.  However, Mookie Wilson charged the ball and fired a strike to Gary Carter at home plate to cut down a sliding Jim Rice for the third out of the inning.

The defensive efforts of Wilson and Carter helped keep the Red Sox lead at one, a lead that would be erased when the Mets came up to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning.

Roger Clemens had been pinch hit for in the top of the eighth inning, so the Red Sox brought in former Met Calvin Schiraldi to pitch the bottom of the eighth inning.  Schiraldi had been brilliant in relief for the Red Sox during the regular season, compiling a 4-2 record and a sparking 1.41 ERA.  However, all that changed once Lee Mazzilli led off the inning with a base hit.  Lenny Dykstra followed with a sacrifice bunt, but he reached first base safely when Schiraldi threw wildly to second base in a failed attempt to nail Lee Mazzilli.  Now the Mets had two men on with nobody out for Wally Backman, who laid down a bunt of his own.  His successful sacrifice moved Mazzilli and Dykstra into scoring position for Keith Hernandez, who was intentionally walked to load the bases.  That brought up Gary Carter.  On a 3-0 pitch, Carter had the green light and lined a sacrifice fly to left field.  The fly ball allowed Lee Mazzilli to score the tying run.  When neither team scored in the ninth inning, the stage was set for the most dramatic inning in Mets history.

The inning started with a bang, but not the one wanted by Mets fans.  Dave Henderson led off the inning with a laser beam down the left field line that just stayed fair as it cleared the wall.  The home run off Rick Aguilera silenced the Shea Stadium crowd of 55,078 and gave the Red Sox a 4-3 lead.  They weren't done yet.  Aguilera came back to strike out the next two batters but then proceeded to give up a double to Wade Boggs and a run-scoring single to Marty Barrett.  The latter hit gave the Sox an insurance run as the lead was now 5-3.  The next batter was hit by a pitch.  Who was the victim of Aguilera's wayward offering?  None other than Bill Buckner (more on him later).  Now there were two men on base for Jim Rice.  Rice could have redeemed himself for being thrown out at home in the seventh inning with a hit in the tenth.  However, Rice failed to add to the Red Sox lead when he flied out to Lee Mazzilli in right.  His failure to come through in two crucial spots set up the events in the bottom of the tenth inning for the Mets.

Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez were due to lead off in the bottom of the tenth inning.  However, two fly balls later and the Mets were down to their final out with no one on base.  The dream was one out away from becoming a nightmare.  108 regular season wins and a thrilling NLCS against the Astros would mean nothing if the Mets couldn't start a rally against Calvin Schiraldi and the Red Sox.  The Shea Stadium scoreboard was flashing "Congratulations Red Sox: 1986 World Champions" and NBC had already awarded its player of the game to Marty Barrett.  Then Gary Carter stepped up to the plate and something special began to happen.

On a 2-1 pitch from Schiraldi, Carter singled to left.  Then Kevin Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Rick Aguilera lined a hit to center on an 0-1 curveball.  The tying runs were now on base for Ray Knight.  If you recall, Knight had made an error in the seventh inning that led to a run for the Red Sox.  Perhaps this game would never have gone into extra innings had Knight not committed his error.  Knight didn't care.  All he cared about was getting a hit to continue the inning.  Unfortunately for him, Schiraldi threw his first two pitches for strikes.  The Mets were down to their final strike, but Ray Knight had something to say about that.

On a pitch that was headed for the inside corner of the strike zone, Knight fisted it over Marty Barrett's head into short center for another base hit.  Carter scored from second base and Mitchell went from first to third on the hit.  The tying run was 90 feet away and the winning run was at first base.  Red Sox manager John McNamara had made up his mind.  He was going to Bob Stanley to try to win the World Series.  Stanley would face one batter, Mookie Wilson, with everything on the line.

Stanley would throw six pitches to Mookie Wilson to get the count to 2-2.  Hoping for strike three with his seventh pitch, Stanley let go of the pitch and at the same time, let go of the lead.  The pitch was way inside, causing Mookie to throw himself up in the air to avoid getting hit.  Fortunately, the ball didn't hit Mookie or Rich Gedman's glove (or home plate umpire Dale Ford for that matter).  The ball went all the way to the backstop and Kevin Mitchell was able to scamper home with the tying run.  The wild pitch also allowed Ray Knight to move into scoring position with the potential winning run.  All Mookie needed to do now was get a base hit to drive him in, or perhaps he could so something else to bring him home.

During the regular season, John McNamara had always removed first baseman Bill Buckner for defensive replacement Dave Stapleton during the late innings.  However, this time Buckner was left in the game despite the fact that he was hobbling around on two gimpy legs and had just been hit by a pitch in the previous inning.  What was McNamara's reasoning for the decision?  He wanted Buckner to be on the field to celebrate their championship with his teammates.  Instead, Buckner was on the field for a different celebration.

Buckner was at first base as the count went to 3-2 on Mookie Wilson.  A mountain of pressure had been lifted off his shoulders once he went airborne to elude Stanley's pitch.  A relaxed Mookie came back to the plate to finish what he came up there to do.  After fouling off two more pitches, including a line drive that curved foul down the left field line, Wilson hit a little roller up along first, bringing Mets fans to their feet as Bill Buckner hobbled to the line in an attempt to field it.  I'll let NBC broadcaster Vin Scully describe what happened.

"Little roller up along first.  Behind the bag!  It gets through Buckner.  Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!"

A miracle had happened on the diamond.  Perhaps Mookie's grounder hit a pebble.  Perhaps Buckner took his eyes off the ball as he watched Mookie sprint down the first base line.  Perhaps God was a Mets fan.  Regardless of what caused it to happen, Mookie's grounder found its way under Buckner's glove and the Mets lived to see another day.  (Buckner later admitted in the film "Catching Hell" that his momentum as he approached the first base line caused his glove to close on its own, a split second before he would have fielded it.  With the glove closed before the ball reached it, the grounder was able to scoot by the gimpy first baseman.)

As a dejected Bill Buckner walked off the field, Shea Stadium was rocking as it never had before.  Mookie Wilson was still running towards second base because he had no idea that Ray Knight had scored the winning run.  Ron Darling, who was scheduled to start the seventh and deciding game of the World Series the following night (even though it was rained out and played two nights later), admitted that he could see dust falling from the roof of the Mets dugout because of the vibrations caused by the fans jumping up and down over it.  Keith Hernandez had left the dugout to go into Davey Johnson's office after making the second out of the inning, but never moved from the chair he was sitting in, even after the historic rally had begun because as he admitted afterwards, the chair he was sitting in had hits in it.

As the unbelievable events were flashing on the TV screen for those of us who weren't fortunate enough to have tickets to the game, Vin Scully came back on the air after a long pause to tell the viewers everything they needed to know about what they had just seen unfold at Shea Stadium on that Saturday night.  The Hall-of-Fame broadcaster said:

"If one picture is worth a thousand words, you have seen about a million words.  But more than that, you have seen an absolutely bizarre finish to Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  The Mets are not only alive, they are well and they will play the Red Sox in Game 7 tomorrow."

Game 6 didn't give the Mets the World Championship as many baseball fans mistakenly believe.  There was still one game left to play.  Although it was scheduled for the following night, rain put a hold on Game 7 until the night of Monday, October 27.  Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, who had been scheduled to start the seventh game for the Red Sox, was scratched from his start to allow Met killer Bruce Hurst to pitch.  But I'll leave that narrative for another night.

For now, think of the memories you have of that unbelievable Game 6.  Imagine how different things would have been if Jim Rice had not been thrown out at home plate in the seventh inning, or if Bob Stanley had relieved Calvin Schiraldi before Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell or Ray Knight produced base hits in the tenth inning.  Mets fans who celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Miracle Mets three years ago might still be talking about that team as their only championship team.

A miracle happened at Shea Stadium 27 years ago today, on October 25, 1986.  It is the single greatest Mets memory I have.  I'm sure for many of you reading this, it's your favorite Mets memory as well.  Do Mets fans believe in miracles?  If you watched Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, the answer is a definite yes.

Bill Buckner: The Forrest Gump of Baseball

You don't have to have been alive in 1986 to know who Bill Buckner is.  If you're a Mets fan of any age, you're quite familiar with that name.  But Bill Buckner was more than just a wobbly-kneed, high-top wearing error-maker.  In fact, in a career that spanned four decades (he played one game for the Dodgers in 1969 and 22 games for the Red Sox in 1990), Buckner had a very successful extended stay in the major leagues.

Bill Buckner collected 2,715 hits over his long career, falling two doubles short of 500.  He also was one of the toughest batters to strike out in the history of the game.  In over 10,000 career plate appearances (9,397 at-bats), Buckner whiffed a total of 453 times.  To put that into perspective, Buckner was more likely to get a double (he had 498 of those) than he was to strike out.  In 1980, he won the National League batting title while striking out only 18 times in 578 at-bats.  Furthermore, from 1974-1987, Buckner finished as one of the top three players in the league in AB/SO rate a whopping ten times.  That includes the forever-to-be-remembered-for-another-reason 1986 campaign, a year in which he had gimpy legs, but not a gimpy bat, as he collected 39 doubles, a career-high 18 HR, 102 RBI and struck out a mere 25 times in 629 at-bats.  But it was a swing and a miss with the glove that stands out in the memories of Mets fans and baseball fans everywhere.

The 1986 World Series wasn't the only time Bill Buckner didn't come up with the ball in a famous play.  In fact, twelve years before the little roller up along first went behind the bag and not into his glove, Buckner failed to field another ball.  However, this one had a far more historical impact than the grounder by Mookie Wilson did.

In 1974, Hank Aaron was approaching Babe Ruth's all-time home run record.  He had finished the 1973 season with 713 career home runs and was poised to break the record early in the 1974 campaign.  He wasted no time doing so, blasting his record-tying 714th home run on Opening Day  against the Cincinnati Reds.  Four days later, on April 8, Aaron broke the record with a home run off Dodger pitcher Al Downing.  The video below has footage of the home run, but I'd like to call to your attention the Dodger outfielder who gave a valiant effort by climbing the left field wall in a failed attempt to catch Aaron's historic blast.  (The wall-climbing takes place at the 0:24 mark of the video.)




The athletic outfielder who did whatever he could to catch Aaron's ball, even if it meant ripping his pants on the chain-link fence, was none other than William Joseph Buckner.  Buckner failed to come up with the ball, allowing Aaron to circle the bases (with his overexuberant bodyguards joining him between second and third base).  It was the first of two times that Buckner would be thrust into the spotlight for not catching a ball.

In essence, by failing to come up with Aaron's fly ball in 1974 and Mookie Wilson's ground ball in 1986, Buckner has become the Forrest Gump of baseball.  As any astute moviegoer would be able to tell you, Forrest Gump always seemed to find his way into memorable moments in American history.   From teaching Elvis Presley how to swing his hips to exposing the Watergate scandal to inadvertently creating the "have a nice day" t-shirt, the famous resident from fictional Greenbow, Alabama couldn't help but contribute to historical events, even if he didn't realize he was doing it at the time.  The same can be said about Bill Buckner.

Buckner was just trying to catch a high fly ball off the bat of Hank Aaron in 1974.  Instead, his body hanging on top of the left field fence became part of baseball history.  Similarly, he was just trying to field a ground ball in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  Instead, he left Red Sox fans hanging, having to wait another 18 years before the Curse of the Bambino could be lifted.

Bill Buckner was a great baseball player who played for a very long time.  His 22 years in the major leagues alone should have cemented his place in baseball history.  But Buckner carved his own place in baseball history that had nothing to do with what he did best, which was making contact with the ball and collecting hit after hit after hit.  In 1974, Buckner was on the wrong end of a historic home run.  Twelve years later, it was a ground ball that trickled under his glove and into endless video replays.  To add insult to injury, I'm sure it would surprise no one to know that Buckner played in only two World Series in his 22-year career.  Naturally, those appearances came in 1974 and 1986, with both series ending in defeats.

Perhaps it was Bill Buckner who was running alongside Forrest Gump when Gump stepped in a heaping pile of doggie doo during his multiple runs across America.  For a player who had such a wonderful career in the big leagues, "it" has certainly happened to Buckner, and "it happened" more than "sometimes".

"Little Roller Up Along First..."

Every generation has its defining moment.  People who grew up in the 1960s know exactly where they were when President Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated.  In the 1980s, every American knows where they were when the Space Shuttle exploded.  It's no different for Mets fans.

People who grew up rooting for the Mets remember every detail of the 1969 Miracle Mets' run to the World Series.  Fans of my generation well up with happy tears when you mention two words to them:  Game 6.  How can anyone forget the night of October 25, 1986?

The Mets were facing elimination entering Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  They fought back to tie the Series at Fenway Park after dropping the first two games of the Series at Shea Stadium.  Then Bruce Hurst shut them down in Game 5 to send the series back to New York with the Mets down three games to two.

It was up to Bob Ojeda to save the Mets' season.  He was opposed by Roger Clemens, who was on his way to his first Cy Young Award.  Ojeda was also called upon for Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS against the Astros, a game in which the Mets defeated Houston in 16 innings to claim the National League pennant.  In that game, Ojeda struggled early, giving up three runs in the first inning before settling down.  Game 6 of the 1986 World Series was no different for Ojeda.  He gave up single runs to the Red Sox in each of the first two innings, but then settled down.

When Ojeda was replaced by Roger McDowell to start the seventh inning, the Mets had come back against Roger Clemens to tie the score at 2.  Although the drama that unfolded in the tenth inning is what Game 6 is most known for, a number of interesting events occurred in the seventh inning that are often forgotten.

With one out and Marty Barrett on first base for the Red Sox, Jim Rice hit a ground ball near the third base line that barely stayed fair.  Ray Knight fielded it and threw wildly to first base, with the ball popping in and out of the glove of a leaping Keith Hernandez.  That brought up Dwight Evans with runners on the corners.  Evans hit a ground ball for the second out of the inning, but Barrett scored the go-ahead run and Rice was able to advance to second base.  That was when Mookie Wilson became a hero for the first time that night.

Roger McDowell was able to get ahead of Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman by throwing strikes on the first two pitches, but Gedman then grounded the 0-2 pitch from McDowell between short and third for a base hit that appeared to give the Red Sox an insurance run.  However, Mookie Wilson charged the ball and fired a strike to Gary Carter at home plate to cut down a sliding Jim Rice for the third out of the inning.

The defensive efforts of Wilson and Carter helped keep the Red Sox lead at one, a lead that would be erased when the Mets came up to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning.

Roger Clemens had been pinch hit for in the top of the eighth inning, so the Red Sox brought in former Met Calvin Schiraldi to pitch the bottom of the eighth inning.  Schiraldi had been brilliant in relief for the Red Sox during the regular season, compiling a 4-2 record and a sparking 1.41 ERA.  However, all that changed once Lee Mazzilli led off the inning with a base hit.  Lenny Dykstra followed with a sacrifice bunt, but he reached first base safely when Schiraldi threw wildly to second base in a failed attempt to nail Lee Mazzilli.  Now the Mets had two men on with nobody out for Wally Backman, who laid down a bunt of his own.  His successful sacrifice moved Mazzilli and Dykstra into scoring position for Keith Hernandez, who was intentionally walked to load the bases.  That brought up Gary Carter.  On a 3-0 pitch, Carter had the green light and lined a sacrifice fly to left field.  The fly ball allowed Lee Mazzilli to score the tying run.  When neither team scored in the ninth inning, the stage was set for the most dramatic inning in Mets history.

The inning started with a bang, but not the one wanted by Mets fans.  Dave Henderson led off the inning with a laser beam down the left field line that just stayed fair as it cleared the wall.  The home run off Rick Aguilera silenced the Shea Stadium crowd of 55,078 and gave the Red Sox a 4-3 lead.  They weren't done yet.  Aguilera came back to strike out the next two batters but then proceeded to give up a double to Wade Boggs and a run-scoring single to Marty Barrett.  The latter hit gave the Sox an insurance run as the lead was now 5-3.  The next batter was hit by a pitch.  Who was the victim of Aguilera's wayward offering?  None other than Bill Buckner (more on him later).  Now there were two men on base for Jim Rice.  Rice could have redeemed himself for being thrown out at home in the seventh inning with a hit in the tenth.  However, Rice failed to add to the Red Sox lead when he flied out to Lee Mazzilli in right.  His failure to come through in two crucial spots set up the events in the bottom of the tenth inning for the Mets.

Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez were due to lead off in the bottom of the tenth inning.  However, two fly balls later and the Mets were down to their final out with no one on base.  The dream was one out away from becoming a nightmare.  108 regular season wins and a thrilling NLCS against the Astros would mean nothing if the Mets couldn't start a rally against Calvin Schiraldi and the Red Sox.  The Shea Stadium scoreboard was flashing "Congratulations Red Sox: 1986 World Champions" and NBC had already awarded its player of the game to Marty Barrett.  Then Gary Carter stepped up to the plate and something special began to happen.

On a 2-1 pitch from Schiraldi, Carter singled to left.  Then Kevin Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Rick Aguilera lined a hit to center on an 0-1 curveball.  The tying runs were now on base for Ray Knight.  If you recall, Knight had made an error in the seventh inning that led to a run for the Red Sox.  Perhaps this game would never have gone into extra innings had Knight not committed his error.  Knight didn't care.  All he cared about was getting a hit to continue the inning.  Unfortunately for him, Schiraldi threw his first two pitches for strikes.  The Mets were down to their final strike, but Ray Knight had something to say about that.

On a pitch that was headed for the inside corner of the strike zone, Knight fisted it over Marty Barrett's head into short center for another base hit.  Carter scored from second base and Mitchell went from first to third on the hit.  The tying run was 90 feet away and the winning run was at first base.  Red Sox manager John McNamara had made up his mind.  He was going to Bob Stanley to try to win the World Series.  Stanley would face one batter, Mookie Wilson, with everything on the line.

Stanley would throw six pitches to Mookie Wilson to get the count to 2-2.  Hoping for strike three with his seventh pitch, Stanley let go of the pitch and at the same time, let go of the lead.  The pitch was way inside, causing Mookie to throw himself up in the air to avoid getting hit.  Fortunately, the ball didn't hit Mookie or Rich Gedman's glove (or home plate umpire Dale Ford for that matter).  The ball went all the way to the backstop and Kevin Mitchell was able to scamper home with the tying run.  The wild pitch also allowed Ray Knight to move into scoring position with the potential winning run.  All Mookie needed to do now was get a base hit to drive him in, or perhaps he could so something else to bring him home.

During the regular season, John McNamara had always removed first baseman Bill Buckner for defensive replacement Dave Stapleton during the late innings.  However, this time Buckner was left in the game despite the fact that he was hobbling around on two gimpy legs and had just been hit by a pitch in the previous inning.  What was McNamara's reasoning for the decision?  He wanted Buckner to be on the field to celebrate their championship with his teammates.  Instead, Buckner was on the field for a different celebration.

Buckner was at first base as the count went to 3-2 on Mookie Wilson.  A mountain of pressure had been lifted off his shoulders once he went airborne to elude Stanley's pitch.  A relaxed Mookie came back to the plate to finish what he came up there to do.  After fouling off two more pitches, including a line drive that curved foul down the left field line, Wilson hit a little roller up along first, bringing Mets fans to their feet as Bill Buckner hobbled to the line in an attempt to field it.  I'll let NBC broadcaster Vin Scully describe what happened.

"Little roller up along first.  Behind the bag!  It gets through Buckner.  Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!"

A miracle had happened on the diamond.  Perhaps Mookie's grounder hit a pebble.  Perhaps Buckner took his eyes off the ball as he watched Mookie sprint down the first base line.  Perhaps God was a Mets fan.  Regardless of what caused it to happen, Mookie's grounder found its way under Buckner's glove and the Mets lived to see another day.  (Buckner later admitted in the film "Catching Hell" that his momentum as he approached the first base line caused his glove to close on its own, a split second before he would have fielded it.  With the glove closed before the ball reached it, the grounder was able to scoot by the gimpy first baseman.)

As a dejected Bill Buckner walked off the field, Shea Stadium was rocking as it never had before.  Mookie Wilson was still running towards second base because he had no idea that Ray Knight had scored the winning run.  Ron Darling, who was scheduled to start the seventh and deciding game of the World Series the following night (even though it was rained out and played two nights later), admitted that he could see dust falling from the roof of the Mets dugout because of the vibrations caused by the fans jumping up and down over it.  Keith Hernandez had left the dugout to go into Davey Johnson's office after making the second out of the inning, but never moved from the chair he was sitting in, even after the historic rally had begun because as he admitted afterwards, the chair he was sitting in had hits in it.

As the unbelievable events were flashing on the TV screen for those of us who weren't fortunate enough to have tickets to the game, Vin Scully came back on the air after a long pause to tell the viewers everything they needed to know about what they had just seen unfold at Shea Stadium on that Saturday night.  The Hall-of-Fame broadcaster said:

"If one picture is worth a thousand words, you have seen about a million words.  But more than that, you have seen an absolutely bizarre finish to Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  The Mets are not only alive, they are well and they will play the Red Sox in Game 7 tomorrow."

Game 6 didn't give the Mets the World Championship as many baseball fans mistakenly believe.  There was still one game left to play.  Although it was scheduled for the following night, rain put a hold on Game 7 until the night of Monday, October 27.  Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, who had been scheduled to start the seventh game for the Red Sox, was scratched from his start to allow Met killer Bruce Hurst to pitch.  But I'll leave that blog for another night.

For now, think of the memories you have of that unbelievable Game 6.  Imagine how different things would have been if Jim Rice had not been thrown out at home plate in the seventh inning, or if Bob Stanley had relieved Calvin Schiraldi before Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell or Ray Knight produced base hits in the tenth inning.  Mets fans who celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Miracle Mets three years ago might still be talking about that team as their only championship team.

A miracle happened at Shea Stadium 26 years ago today, on October 25, 1986.  It is the single greatest Mets memory I have.  I'm sure for many of you reading this, it's your favorite Mets memory as well.  Do Mets fans believe in miracles?  If you watched Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, the answer is a definite yes.

25 Years Later: "Little Roller Up Along First..."

Every generation has its defining moment.  People who grew up in the 1960s know exactly where they were when President Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated.  In the 1980s, every American knows where they were when the Space Shuttle exploded.  It's no different for Mets fans.

People who grew up rooting for the Mets remember every detail of the 1969 Miracle Mets' run to the World Series.  Fans of my generation well up with happy tears when you mention two words to them:  Game 6.  How can anyone forget the night of October 25, 1986?

The Mets were facing elimination entering Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  They fought back to tie the Series at Fenway Park after dropping the first two games of the Series at Shea Stadium.  Then Bruce Hurst shut them down in Game 5 to send the series back to New York with the Mets down three games to two.

It was up to Bob Ojeda to save the Mets' season.  He was opposed by Roger Clemens, who was on his way to his first Cy Young Award.  Ojeda was also called upon for Game 6 of the 1986 NLCS against the Astros, a game in which the Mets defeated Houston in 16 innings to claim the National League pennant.  In that game, Ojeda struggled early, giving up three runs in the first inning before settling down.  Game 6 of the 1986 World Series was no different for Ojeda.  He gave up single runs to the Red Sox in each of the first two innings, but then settled down.

When Ojeda was replaced by Roger McDowell to start the seventh inning, the Mets had come back against Roger Clemens to tie the score at 2.  Although the drama that unfolded in the tenth inning is what Game 6 is most known for, a number of interesting events occurred in the seventh inning that are often forgotten.

With one out and Marty Barrett on first base for the Red Sox, Jim Rice hit a ground ball near the third base line that barely stayed fair.  Ray Knight fielded it and threw wildly to first base, with the ball popping in and out of the glove of a leaping Keith Hernandez.  That brought up Dwight Evans with runners on the corners.  Evans hit a ground ball for the second out of the inning, but Barrett scored the go-ahead run and Rice was able to advance to second base.  That was when Mookie Wilson became a hero for the first time that night.

Roger McDowell was able to get ahead of Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman by throwing strikes on the first two pitches, but Gedman then grounded the 0-2 pitch from McDowell between short and third for a base hit that appeared to give the Red Sox an insurance run.  However, Mookie Wilson charged the ball and fired a strike to Gary Carter at home plate to cut down a sliding Jim Rice for the third out of the inning.

The defensive efforts of Wilson and Carter helped keep the Red Sox lead at one, a lead that would be erased when the Mets came up to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning.

Roger Clemens had been pinch hit for in the top of the eighth inning, so the Red Sox brought in former Met Calvin Schiraldi to pitch the bottom of the eighth inning.  Schiraldi had been brilliant in relief for the Red Sox during the regular season, compiling a 4-2 record and a sparking 1.41 ERA.  However, all that changed once Lee Mazzilli led off the inning with a base hit.  Lenny Dykstra followed with a sacrifice bunt, but he reached first base safely when Schiraldi threw wildly to second base in a failed attempt to nail Lee Mazzilli.  Now the Mets had two men on with nobody out for Wally Backman, who laid down a bunt of his own.  His successful sacrifice moved Mazzilli and Dykstra into scoring position for Keith Hernandez, who was intentionally walked to load the bases.  That brought up Gary Carter.  On a 3-0 pitch, Carter had the green light and lined a sacrifice fly to left field.  The fly ball allowed Lee Mazzilli to score the tying run.  When neither team scored in the ninth inning, the stage was set for the most dramatic inning in Mets history.

The inning started with a bang, but not the one wanted by Mets fans.  Dave Henderson led off the inning with a laser beam down the left field line that just stayed fair as it cleared the wall.  The home run off Rick Aguilera silenced the Shea Stadium crowd of 55,078 and gave the Red Sox a 4-3 lead.  They weren't done yet.  Aguilera came back to strike out the next two batters but then proceeded to give up a double to Wade Boggs and a run-scoring single to Marty Barrett.  The latter hit gave the Sox an insurance run as the lead was now 5-3.  The next batter was hit by a pitch.  Who was the victim of Aguilera's wayward offering?  None other than Bill Buckner (more on him later).  Now there were two men on base for Jim Rice.  Rice could have redeemed himself for being thrown out at home in the seventh inning with a hit in the tenth.  However, Rice failed to add to the Red Sox lead when he flied out to Lee Mazzilli in right.  His failure to come through in two crucial spots set up the events in the bottom of the tenth inning for the Mets.

Wally Backman and Keith Hernandez were due to lead off in the bottom of the tenth inning.  However, two fly balls later and the Mets were down to their final out with no one on base.  The dream was one out away from becoming a nightmare.  108 regular season wins and a thrilling NLCS against the Astros would mean nothing if the Mets couldn't start a rally against Calvin Schiraldi and the Red Sox.  The Shea Stadium scoreboard was flashing "Congratulations Red Sox: 1986 World Champions" and NBC had already awarded its player of the game to Marty Barrett.  Then Gary Carter stepped up to the plate and something special began to happen.

On a 2-1 pitch from Schiraldi, Carter singled to left.  Then Kevin Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Rick Aguilera lined a hit to center on an 0-1 curveball.  The tying runs were now on base for Ray Knight.  If you recall, Knight had made an error in the seventh inning that led to a run for the Red Sox.  Perhaps this game would never have gone into extra innings had Knight not committed his error.  Knight didn't care.  All he cared about was getting a hit to continue the inning.  Unfortunately for him, Schiraldi threw his first two pitches for strikes.  The Mets were down to their final strike, but Ray Knight had something to say about that.

On a pitch that was headed for the inside corner of the strike zone, Knight fisted it over Marty Barrett's head into short center for another base hit.  Carter scored from second base and Mitchell went from first to third on the hit.  The tying run was 90 feet away and the winning run was at first base.  Red Sox manager John McNamara had made up his mind.  He was going to Bob Stanley to try to win the World Series.  Stanley would face one batter, Mookie Wilson, with everything on the line.

Stanley would throw six pitches to Mookie Wilson to get the count to 2-2.  Hoping for strike three with his seventh pitch, Stanley let go of the pitch and at the same time, let go of the lead.  The pitch was way inside, causing Mookie to throw himself up in the air to avoid getting hit.  Fortunately, the ball didn't hit Mookie or Rich Gedman's glove (or home plate umpire Dale Ford for that matter).  The ball went all the way to the backstop and Kevin Mitchell was able to scamper home with the tying run.  The wild pitch also allowed Ray Knight to move into scoring position with the potential winning run.  All Mookie needed to do now was get a base hit to drive him in, or perhaps he could so something else to bring him home.

During the regular season, John McNamara had always removed first baseman Bill Buckner for defensive replacement Dave Stapleton during the late innings.  However, this time Buckner was left in the game despite the fact that he was hobbling around on two gimpy legs and had just been hit by a pitch in the previous inning.  What was McNamara's reasoning for the decision?  He wanted Buckner to be on the field to celebrate their championship with his teammates.  Instead, Buckner was on the field for a different celebration.

Buckner was at first base as the count went to 3-2 on Mookie Wilson.  A mountain of pressure had been lifted off his shoulders once he went airborne to elude Stanley's pitch.  A relaxed Mookie came back to the plate to finish what he came up there to do.  After fouling off two more pitches, including a line drive that curved foul down the left field line, Wilson hit a little roller up along first, bringing Mets fans to their feet as Bill Buckner hobbled to the line in an attempt to field it.  I'll let NBC broadcaster Vin Scully describe what happened.

"Little roller up along first.  Behind the bag!  It gets through Buckner.  Here comes Knight and the Mets win it!"

A miracle had happened on the diamond.  Perhaps Mookie's grounder hit a pebble.  Perhaps Buckner took his eyes off the ball as he watched Mookie sprint down the first base line.  Perhaps God was a Mets fan.  Regardless of what caused it to happen, Mookie's grounder found its way under Buckner's glove and the Mets lived to see another day.  (Buckner later admitted in the film "Catching Hell" that his momentum as he approached the first base line caused his glove to close on its own, a split second before he would have fielded it.  With the glove closed before the ball reached it, the grounder was able to scoot by the gimpy first baseman.)

As a dejected Bill Buckner walked off the field, Shea Stadium was rocking as it never had before.  Mookie Wilson was still running towards second base because he had no idea that Ray Knight had scored the winning run.  Ron Darling, who was scheduled to start the seventh and deciding game of the World Series the following night (even though it was rained out and played two nights later), admitted that he could see dust falling from the roof of the Mets dugout because of the vibrations caused by the fans jumping up and down over it.  Keith Hernandez had left the dugout to go into Davey Johnson's office after making the second out of the inning, but never moved from the chair he was sitting in, even after the historic rally had begun because as he admitted afterwards, the chair he was sitting in had hits in it.

As the unbelievable events were flashing on the TV screen for those of us who weren't fortunate enough to have tickets to the game, Vin Scully came back on the air after a long pause to tell the viewers everything they needed to know about what they had just seen unfold at Shea Stadium on that Saturday night.  The Hall-of-Fame broadcaster said:

"If one picture is worth a thousand words, you have seen about a million words.  But more than that, you have seen an absolutely bizarre finish to Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  The Mets are not only alive, they are well and they will play the Red Sox in Game 7 tomorrow."

Game 6 didn't give the Mets the World Championship as many baseball fans mistakenly believe.  There was still one game left to play.  Although it was scheduled for the following night, rain put a hold on Game 7 until the night of Monday, October 27.  Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, who had been scheduled to start the seventh game for the Red Sox, was scratched from his start to allow Met killer Bruce Hurst to pitch.  But I'll leave that blog for another night.

For now, think of the memories you have of that unbelievable Game 6.  Imagine how different things would have been if Jim Rice had not been thrown out at home plate in the seventh inning, or if Bob Stanley had relieved Calvin Schiraldi before Gary Carter, Kevin Mitchell or Ray Knight produced base hits in the tenth inning.  Mets fans who celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Miracle Mets two years ago might still be talking about that team as their only championship team.

A miracle happened at Shea Stadium 25 years ago today, on October 25, 1986.  It is the single greatest Mets memory I have.  I'm sure for many of you reading this, it's your favorite Mets memory as well.  Do Mets fans believe in miracles?  If you watched Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, the answer is a definite yes.

PNC Park: The House That Sid Bream Built

This past weekend, the Studious Metsimus / My Summer Family World Tour touched down in the Iron City, Pittsburgh, hoping to see the Mets win a series at a ballpark they've not had much success in (13-15 at PNC Park since it opened its mustard colored doors in 2001).

The trip there was long and filled with Cracker Barrel meals, but after what seemed like days, we finally made it to The House That Sid Bream Built.

Excuse me? The House That Sid Bream Built? In a city known for its steel workers and some football team that plays in Ketchup Field (which probably explains why the Pirates play in a mustard colored park), why would Sid Bream get the credit for building the stadium? Please allow us to elaborate for you.

Sidney Eugene Bream (no relation to Dwight Eugene Gooden and Darryl Eugene Strawberry) was sent to the Pirates by the Dodgers in 1985 to complete a deal in which four-time National League batting champion Bill Madlock was shipped off to Los Angeles. Bream was stuck playing first base, a position that was on lockdown due to the emergence of legendary Dodger first baseman Greg Brock, who hit all of .233 in his five Bream-repelling seasons in the City of Angels.

Once he arrived in Pittsburgh, he was part of a team that rose from the catacombs of the NL East (57-94 in 1985) to the division champions they became in 1990 (95-67). He formed a nucleus that included some of the most well-known Pirates in franchise history, like Jose Lind, Sammy Khalifa and Orlando Merced.

With Sid Bream anchoring the infield, the Pirates looked like a dynasty in the making. The supporting cast of Barry Bonds* and Bobby Bonilla served as fine complementary pieces to the team, but the glue that kept it together was Sid Bream.

However, after five and a half years in Pittsburgh, Sid Bream was due to become a free agent, and the $510,000 he was being paid by the Pirates just wasn't enough to keep the glue sticking to the team. With the Pirates deciding that the future at first base was the hitting machine known as Orlando Merced, Bream was deemed expendable.

Although the Atlanta Braves were a horrible team in 1990, Bream decided to go where the money was, and Atlanta had the green for him. Bream signed a three-year deal to play first base for the Braves and was paid far more money than he would have gotten to stay in Pittsburgh ($5.6 million over the three years).

The move appeared to benefit both Bream's former team and his new team. Orlando Merced hit .275, with 10 HR and 50 RBI in his first full season as a Pirate, finishing second in the NL Rookie of The Year balloting, robbed of his glory by some guy named Jeff Bagwell. Bream was the starting first baseman on the worst-to-first Braves and was part of a team that helped defeat the Pirates in the 1991 NLCS.

The defining moment of Bream's career came in the 1992 NLCS, also against the Pirates. After his Braves held a commanding 3-1 series lead in the NLCS, the Bucs stormed back, blowing out Atlanta in Games 5 and 6. Their convincing victories (7-1 in Game 5 and 13-4 in Game 6) gave Pittsburgh hope that they would finally make it to the World Series for the first time since 1979, after falling just short in 1990 and 1991. Everything looked set for the Pirates' first pennant in thirteen years when they took a 2-0 lead into the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 7. Then poop happened, and Sid Bream was one of the fecal, I mean, focal points of the rally.

Starting pitcher Doug Drabek had been in complete command over the first eight innings of Game 7 and manager Jim Leyland decided to keep him in the game for the ninth inning. The former Cy Young Award winner was still the ace of the staff, leading the Pirates with 15 wins and a 2.77 ERA during the 1992 season.

However, Drabek had not been particularly effective against lefties in 1992 (.261 batting average for lefties against Drabek in '92, as opposed to a .189 batting average for righties) and the Braves had two of the best left-handed hitters in the game leading off the ninth inning in Terry Pendleton and David Justice.

Pendleton led off the inning with a double, bringing up the power-hitting David Justice, who represented the tying run. Drabek got Justice to hit a ground ball to the normally sure-handed Jose Lind at second base. However, there was nothing normal about what happened next.

Feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders (or maybe it was his batting helmet), Lind booted the routine grounder, allowing Justice to reach base. After a walk to our hero (Mr. Bream) loaded the bases, the night was over for Drabek. Although the Pirates were still up 2-0, the lead was precarious at best, with the tying run in scoring position and the winning run on first base in the form of Sid Bream, who reportedly once beat former track star Bill Buckner in a race.

Stan Belinda was called upon to put out the fire started by Drabek and Lind. His first batter, Ron Gant, hit a sacrifice fly to plate the first run and cut the Pirates' lead in half. A walk to Damon Berryhill reloaded the bases for Brian Hunter, but Belinda got Hunter to pop up to the shortstop, Jay Bell, for the second out of the inning.

The Braves were down to their last out and the Pirates had visions of champagne dancing in their heads, especially when the Braves were forced to call upon seldom-used Francisco Cabrera to pinch-hit in the most crucial at-bat of the series.

Cabrera lined a base hit to left that fell in front of Barry Bonds*. The tying run had scored. Chugging around third was Sidney Eugene Bream, hoping to score around Popeye's #1 fan (the restaurant, not the cartoon), Mike LaValliere. Bonds*' throw was slightly up the first base line. Bream slid at the same time that LaValliere threw his ample body at the plate in an attempt to block it. In a bang-bang play, Bream scored the winning run, sending the Braves back to the World Series and the Pirates back to the steel mills.

So let's get back to the title of this blog, in the event that you're still awake. Why do we call PNC Park "The House That Sid Bream Built"?

Well, when the Mets defeated the Pirates on Friday night, it gave the Pirates their 82nd loss of the season. This clinched their record-setting 18th consecutive losing season. Doing the math, that means their last winning season was in that fateful 1992 season.

After the Pirates dismantled their team following their devastating loss to the Braves in the 1992 NLCS, their attendance at Three Rivers Stadium plummeted. After finishing 7th in attendance in 1992, the Pirates never finished higher than 12th in the years following '92. The team knew they had to do something to bring the fans back into the ballpark, since the product on the field wasn't doing the job.

Thus the idea of PNC Park was born. Once Sid Bream crossed the plate in 1992, he set in motion the events that would lead to the beautiful park on the banks of the Allegheny River. Had Sid Bream been thrown out at the plate in Game 7, perhaps the Pirates would have won the game in extra innings. Perhaps Barry Bonds* wouldn't have bolted for San Francisco, home of BALCO. Perhaps the fans would have continued to come to Three Rivers Stadium.

But Sid Bream scored that run. The Pirates didn't win the pennant. Barry Bonds* didn't stay in Steel Country and the fans didn't come out to the ballpark.

Without that run, perhaps PNC Park would not have been needed to bring the fans back to the ballpark. Sid Bream built that house with his mad dash for home plate, the same house that the Studious Metsimus / My Summer Family tour invaded this past weekend (see, it all comes full circle).

Although we didn't see any Sid Bream statues, we did see statues of Roberto Clemente and legendary Negro League players such as Cool Papa Bell, Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson.




We also saw a food court named after Pirate Hall-of-Famer Willie Stargell with Pops-themed eateries. (There was no "We Are Family" cookie stand there, because as we all know, the cookie stand is not part of the food court.)



The Mets and Pirates were dressed in throwback uniforms in honor of African-American Night. The Mets wore New York Cubans jerseys while the Pirates wore the uniforms of the old Pittsburgh Crawfords. Starting pitchers Jonathon Niese and James McDonald were kind enough to model the throwback jerseys for us when we watched them warm up in the bullpen prior to the game.



The game itself was a washout, and I mean that quite literally. The Mets had a slim 2-1 lead before David Wright hit a three-run homer to make it 5-1. During Wright's home run trot, the light drizzle that was falling throughout the game became heavier.

When the umpires realized that they had left their swim trunks and scuba gear in the hotel room, they decided to stop the game and put the tarp on the field.


After a one hour and six minute delay, Mr. Public Address Announcer told us that the game had been cancelled and that the Mets had come away with a rain-shortened victory. It was the first time the Mets had won a series on the road in a National League ballpark this season.

Unfortunately, the Mets were unable to sweep the Pirates, as Lastings Milledge and super-slugger Jose Tabata homered off Johan Santana in Sunday's series finale. At the same time, the Mets offense paid tribute to the late Three Rivers Stadium by imploding.


Lefty starter Zach Duke stifled the Mets' batters, allowing one run and five hits over his seven innings of work. That dang Duke boy had entered the game with a lowly 5-12 record and an ERA well over 5.00. But just like the Mets who played against those Sid Bream-led Pirates teams in the late '80s and early '90s, the Mets couldn't hit a Pirates lefty who had no success against any other teams in the National League.

Back then, it was the team of John Smiley, Zane Smith and Randy Tomlin who shut down the Mets and no one else. Now, it was the disciple of PSSST (Pitching School of Smiley, Smith and Tomlin) who handled the Mets.



The House That Sid Bream Built was a beautiful ballpark to visit, even if it was only for five innings. Pittsburgh embraces their history well, both Pirates history and Pittsburgh Crawfords history. The Wilpons should pay attention to that, noting that the city of Pittsburgh can be proud of their Pittsburgh Crawfords history without neglecting that the Pirates have history as well.

Pirates fans were far more polite than their counterparts across the state in Philadelphia. They did not insult fans and even suggested places to visit in the ballpark and around their city. They might not have a good team right now, but they're proud of their ballpark and their city and it showed in how they treated the "enemy" from New York.

Someday we'll go back to The House That Sid Bream built, but we will definitely do it by plane, even if it means sacrificing a trip or three to Cracker Barrel. Driving to Pittsburgh was a major chore, with traffic, poor weather, traffic, lack of scenery and traffic being the reasons why it almost became a good idea to hand over the car keys to Studious Metsimus blogger Joey Beartran.

That's it for our road trips this year. Next year, we'll go to new ballparks, eat new food and hopefully come back with more Mets victories, especially ones that take more than five innings to complete.

Thanks for reading about the latest Studious Metsimus / My Summer Family tour stop. We hope you enjoyed our wordy beyond belief blog. Although our road trips have come to an end for 2010, the Mets will play on for the next six weeks. Perhaps with one last run, similar to the one that ya gotta believe happened in 1973, we'll have a road trip in late October / early November. So let's keep on cheering for our boys in orange and blue. Ya (still) gotta believe! Let's Go Mets!