|
|
A
GAME THAT FEATURED EVERYTHING It was everything we expected. And more. Game 7 of the 2001 World Series was full of all the drama and excitement that preceded it in the first six games. It was the sixth World Series in the past 30 years to be decided in the final at bat of the game as Luis Gonzalez got the game winning hit off Mariano Rivera to give Arizona the 3-2 win and the Series championship. It was a game that kept us on the edge of our seats and our minds constantly working to figure out what was going to happen next. Just when we thought we knew what would happen, a play would completely shock us by coming out of left field, so to speak. After the first few innings, it looked like it would be a pitchers dual. The starters were Roger Clemens and Curt Schilling, both hard throwing right handers with a work horse mentality. Neither one was going to give an inch. And neither one did for the first five innings. Clemens was overpowering in the first five innings. He made a lot of pitches, but Arizona could not make a dent and get a run across. Clemens struck out eight batters in those first 15 outs recorded, and seven of those eight strikeouts were swinging. Schilling was just as overpowering, as he struck out eight batters through six full innings, with five of those being swinging strikeouts. He faced the minimum of 18 batters after six innings pitched, and struck out four of the last five outs. Schilling, as he has done the whole postseason, appeared to be picking up momentum as the game went on. At this point in the contest, visions of memorable pitchers duals in the past came to mind. It was Jack Morris and John Smoltz in Game 7 from the 1991 World Series. It was Bob Gibson and Mickey Lolich in the 1968 World Series. A complete game with a 0-0 score after nine innings seemed possible at that point. Then in the bottom of the sixth, Arizona got to Clemens. A led off single and an RBI double by Danny Batista made it a 1-0 game. It was the third time in the Series that Batista had knocked in the first run of the game, and in all three games the Diamondbacks prevailed. Could it happen again? Would this be the edge Schilling needed to somehow raise his performance yet another notch above the out of this world level he has pitched in so far? Visions of a complete game shutout quickly came to mind. Just as quickly those visions faded. In the seventh, the Yankees finally found the kryptonite for Schilling. Two base hits followed by a fielders choice and an RBI single by Tino Martinez tied the game at 1-1. Now the visions flashed back to a complete game by both starters that would go into extra innings, only this time with the score tied at 1-1. This thought was further supported by the decision to leave Schilling in the game and lead off at the plate in the bottom of the seventh. That had to mean it was going to happen. Schilling was fine. He had the strength to keep going and finish this game. He was going to duke it out with Clemens. Somehow, after a second straight start on just three days rest, Schilling was going to survive. Why else would he be batting? Those visions were eliminated in just a few short batters. Clemens would give up a single to Tony Womack, forcing the Yankees to use their bullpen. His night was done, after 6 1/3 innings and just one run and 10 strikeouts. Schilling was going to be the one to survive and finish it off. Or so we thought. Soon, everything would change. In the top of the eighth, Alfonso Soriano led off by hitting an 0-2 pitch into the left field stands. And that was it. Before Soriano could even finish rounding the bases, Mariano Rivera, the best postseason closer in the history of baseball, had already started to warm up in the bullpen. A sense of amazement came at this point. Thinking back upon all the great Yankee teams of the past that had won the World Series and provided us with so many heros in the big games. In 1962, it wasn’t Roger Maris or Mickey Mantle, but Bobby Richardson who made a game saving catch off a Willie McCovey line drive to win the series. Then Reggie Jackson, Mr. October himself, led the Yankees to World Series titles in 1977 and 1978. Over the last few years, New York won four titles, and in each year a different player walked off with the Most Valuable Player honors. Then there was this postseason, with numerous game-winning heros in game four and five alone. And now there was Soriano. A new Yankee hero. The rookie who seemed to soak in greatness through the pinstripped uniform. He hit the game winning home run against Seattle in the ALCS. He followed with the game winning hit in the 12th inning of game five. And now the game winning home run in the seventh game. A new hero was born. Not so fast. As we learned in games four and five, and in the words of yet another past Yankee hero, it ain’t over till its over. With two outs in the eighth and a runner on base, an ominous figure came out of the Arizona bullpen to get that last out of the inning. A force seemed to follow him into the game as Yankee hitters saw their worst nightmare. A tall left hander who had silenced the New York bats in game two with a complete game shutout and then again in game six. Randy Johnson was on the mound. When Johnson entered the game, there was a new feeling in the air. One of confidence and strength. A sense that all hope was not lost. It was a menacing force that had reared its head once again to force the defending champions back on their heels. Those feelings were subdued in the bottom of the eighth as Rivera struck out the side to send the game to the ninth. He was in his usual postseason form. Unhittable. But Johnson would match him, retiring three straight in the top of the ninth and sending another surge of hope and strength through the Diamondback dugout. Then it was the bottom of the ninth. Every players dream. And from the beginning, there was a sense that something special was going to happen. Mark Grace led off with a single and we moved forward in our chairs. All of the sudden, Rivera’s armor had a dent. He was hittable. After two bunts and one out, Womack came to the plate and not only put a dent in the armor of Rivera, but tore off a chunk in the process. Womack lined a shot down the right field line to knock in one run and tie the game. Now we were on the edge of our chairs. It was possible. You could score off Rivera. And again, there was a sense that the Yankees were on their heels. They were cornered, and with bases loaded, Luis Gonzalez put the final touches to the game with a blooper into shallow center field. As the ball fell to the ground just past the infield dirt, we fell off our chairs in amazement as the winning run scored. This game was everything. It was a pitchers dual for the ages as one work horse battled another, matching strikeout for strikeout most of the way. It was a run here, and a run there, and the pitchers dual endured despite one horse heading for the stables. It was a new hero born into a teams storied history already full of countless heros and another championship on the wall alongside many others. It was the unthinkable, as an unhittable force became hittable and gave up a base hit there, a double here and the final base hit up the middle. It was everything we could have asked for. And more. It was unforgettable. |
