Game 6 of the '95 World Series was the night that the Braves finally cashed in on all the promise that had been out there since 1991. Way back in '91, both of my brothers had been paying attention to the Braves early in the season as they were working to over take the Dodgers for the National League pennant. I still remember my brother Mark being very excited about their chances and Dad telling us, "Wait and see where they are at the All-Star break. It's a long season."
Dad's pessimism was justified - the Braves had finished last in 1990 and were about 9 and a half games back at the break. But after the break.... the Braves started winning and the Dodgers started losing. We did not have cable yet so we could only listen to the games on the radio. I have think this had to be fun for Dad. This was a throw back to his youth. He was getting to gather around the radio with his boys and listen to baseball just like he had done as a kid.
Now, we were not shy people. Dad found a friend who had cable and so, on Sunday's after church and Sunday dinner, we would invite ourselves over to watch the game at his house. Did that for several Sunday's. We were over there on the last day of the season when the last out was recorded on the last game and the Braves were one game better than the Dodgers. The memory stands out mainly because Greg Olson, the Braves catcher, ran out to the mound and jumped into the arms of the starting pitcher, John Smoltz. I wish I could say my memory was locked in by the sheer emotional power of the scene. But no. I had noticed when Olson leaped up that there was a large brown stain on the bottom of his pants from a recent slide that looked exactly like he had poo'd his pants. Yeah. I am just that mature.
The Braves went on to win a thrilling National League championship series from a really, really good Barry Bonds led Pirates team. From there they went on to the World Series to face the Minnesota Twins. Many baseball historians will tell you that the 1991 World Series was the best one ever. One run games, extra innings, seven games, clutch hitting, great pitching, and a Kent Hrbek wrestling move that ticks me off to this day (look up hrbek and gant on youtube or somewhere and you might be able to see what I mean).
The next year we had cable and the Braves beat the Pirates again and lost to the Blue Jays in the World Series. The following year the Braves lost in the National League Championship series to the Phillies. That led to 1994. I was doing pretty good for a single guy and bought tickets to about 8 different games that year for my family. My brothers and I went to several games together in Atlanta that year even though we lived over four hours away. Our plan was to wait until late in September and take Dad to a game.
Dad's health was really poor at this time. He was suffering from heart failure following several heart attacks over the previous few years. We knew he would never have been able to stand the heat of any of the other games we had gone to and that even a late September game might still be too warm. But we were optimistic that we could get him there and keep him seated in the shade to see a Braves game with us.
Two days before the game that I had tickets, baseball went on strike. And it was not a short strike. The rest of that season was lost. And the playoffs. And the World Series.
The strike actually carried into the 1995 season a little as well. When they finally started the season again, I was still a fan. My brothers and my dad and my mom were all still fans. We made a point of watching every game we could. Dad was in and out of the hospital at this point, so some of those games were watched on televisions featuring something less than High Definition. Much less. We might have come out better huddled around a radio some times.
There was an added round of playoffs that year with the advent of the wild card berth. And the Braves had to face the Colorado Rockies. Not much pitching on the Rockies, but those guys could hit. And the Braves beat them 3-1 in the best of five series.
The next in line were the Cincinnati Reds. The Reds were another team that could hit. These guys had speed, hit for average, and hit for power. And the Braves went through them like a buzz saw. The Braves swept them in four games and only allowed them to score five runs TOTAL. And the broken bats - they don't keep this as a stat that you can look up, but I just remember broken bat after broken bat as the Braves pitchers over powered the Reds hitters.
Back to the World Series at last. And it does not get any easier. It came down to the best pitching in baseball (Braves) versus the best hitting in baseball (Indians). The Indians were amazing. They had eight guys in their starting line up with a batting average over .300.
The Indians had Albert Belle who could hit like a madman and you wondered if he was exactly that. There was an incident where he tried to run down some trick or treaters in his neighborhood - with his CAR. This was the team that had a young Manny Ramirez and Jim Thome. They had a blazing fast Kenny Lofton and future Hall of Fame switch-hitter Eddie Murray. This team was loaded.
And the Braves held them to a .179 batting average in the World Series. It was amazing to watch. It finally came down to game six. Tom Glavine was on the mound. Glavine had been with the Braves from the bad old days through the worst to first year of 1991 and had been a leader in the Union during the strike. He also had ice in his veins and you could never tell by looking at him if he was down by 6 runs or throwing a no-hitter.
My family and I were all crowded in my dad's hospital room watching the game in the dark on a myopic 19 inch screen while Dad dozed fitfully in his bed. The bed was set in a sitting position. Dad had not been able to lay down completely for well over a year without the fluid in his lungs causing a coughing fit. He was too weak to walk without one of us providing support. Lately, he had gotten to the point that he did not have enough energy to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. There were even times that he would nod off while in the middle of a discussion. On this night, while our hopes were raised and crashed pitch by pitch, inning by inning, Dad would snore, start, wake, ask the score or the count on the batter and then start the whole circuit again - snore, start, wake, ask...
After six agonizingly scoreless innings, Dave Justice, another veteran of the 1991 team, tattooed a pitch from Jim Poole for a home run. We went absolutely nuts with a capital "N"! Way too loud for a hospital. Woke Dad up too. It was great. And now, Glavine just had to make sure that one run stood up against the best offense in baseball in 1995.
He only gave up one hit in eight innings. He was masterful. The one hit he gave up was a bloop from the catcher. But my guts stayed tight the whole game. Every new batter was the potential for disaster. Each pitch held the possibility of being a hanger and the Indians just murdered hangers. The stress was oppressive.
In the ninth inning, Braves manager Bobby Cox chose to replace Glavine with the team's closer, Mark Wohlers. Wolhers, yet another hold over from 1991, had spent the past few years trying to be the team's closer and not quite able to pull it off. He would show so much promise with a fast ball that could be just unhittable and then it would all crumble again and he would not be able to throw strikes at all or the ones he did throw were hit a very long, long way.
Not this time. Wohlers pitched like the closer all of us Braves fans wanted him to be. The final fly ball was caught by Marquis Grissom in left center field and we went nuts again. With the victory ours, there really was no holding us back. We yelled, screamed, high fived, and hugged. I woke Dad up and used my right hand on his cheek to turn his face to look into mine and told him that the Braves had won. He smiled and went back to sleep.
We never did get a chance to take Dad to a Braves game. His health continued to get worse. He was not out of the hospital much after that. On one of THOSE occasions, he got to hold the one grandchild of his that had been born. That November Dad died. I did not get to the hospital until he had been dead a couple of hours. Same sort of room as when we had watched the World Series. Much more subdued this time.
Strange the comfort we find in things as meaningless as baseball. My father has been gone for years now and there have been movies I have wanted to show him, thoughts I would like to have shared and jokes I would like to have told him. My brothers have had more grand children who have never been held by him and I have married the love of my life without him ever getting a chance to charm her. And I miss those things. I miss those things that I have never had.
But I find joy in other things. I remember the day my brother Jason placed his daughter Raelyn in her grandfather's arms. I remember Dad making a slightly off color joke at my brother Mark's expense and Mark turning the joke on its ear and Dad laughing until all of us were red faced and coughing. I remember looking my dad in the eyes and telling him, "The Braves won. The Braves won."
You mentioned there were people and events you would have like to share with your dad since his passing. Well, I know I wish my grandpa could have met you. I know he would have enjoyed sharing his stories with someone like you who enjoys listening to a good story. I would have enjoyed listening to the two of you share and try to out do each others saw mill stories. I know it would have been a joyful time for all of us. You would have been able to appreciate first hand the hard work he did as a young man along side his father.
ReplyDeleteOn a less sappy note, you talked about how Olson looked as if he'd poo'd his pants by the end of the game. It was fun getting to see that clip tonight during the Braves game with you. Your smile and anticipation of that hilarious moment was priceless! Oh, and your description of how it looked, dead on! Thanks for the potty humor!