The Boston Red Sox recently held a reunion of their ’86 World Series team during a series with the Mets. Bill Buckner declined the invitation to return. And that’s a shame. My gut feeling is that Buckner would have been well received by the Red Sox faithful, especially since they have won a World Series in the meantime. But Buckner was not taking any chances. He’d been reminded far too many times already about his error in Game 6 of the ’86 World Series that he didn’t want to tempt the fact that anyone would bring it up if he visited Fenway for the reunion. Unfortunately, because we take our sports in America very seriously, he was probably right.
Donnie Moore, Doug Brien, Doug Sanders, Scott Norwood, and Buckner, to name a few. What’s the first thing that comes to mind when reading these names? More than likely, it’s how each was on the cusp of victory, a huge victory, only to have a cruel and unexpected twist of fate intervene and forever mark them as being associated with a loss. A big loss. Each had admirable, in some cases stellar, careers, but each will unfortunately be remembered for the one moment in the spotlight in which glory escaped them. Avoided them like the plague. Spit in their faces, even. Each is remembered unfairly for the one play, the one moment, which erased years of guts, glory, and success. Sports have a way of working themselves into the very core of our soul, and becoming, in a figurative sense, life and death for many of us. Sometimes, for those involved, it is.
Donnie Moore with pitching coach Rene Lacheman after the ’86 ALCS loss.
Donnie Moore was one of the best closers in baseball in the mid '80s, but he was never the same after giving up a home run to Dave Henderson in Game 5 of the AL Championship Series in 1986. Moore’s team, the California Angels, were one strike away at the time from getting to their first World Series. It’s not remembered that Moore was playing hurt at the time. He was still the Angels’ best option, which is a testament to his talent. And even though the Angels still had two games with a chance to advance after the loss, neither was close. And Moore was never allowed to get over his single-pitch mistake. (In an incredible precursor of the fate that was to follow, Bill Buckner had a base hit to ignite the rally in the ninth inning of Game 5). Any highlights or remembrance of that ’86 ALCS focuses on Henderson’s homer off Moore, and makes little mention of the fact that the Angels still had two games after that to win the pennant. They didn’t, and Moore was vilified. He pitched two more relatively ineffective years for the Angels before being released. His battles with depression finally caught up with him on July 18, 1989, when he shot his wife Tonya three times, (she survived), and then took his own life. He was 35.
Scott Norwood will forever be remembered as the kicker who missed a field goal that would have won his team, the Buffalo Bills, the Super Bowl. It’s forgotten that it was a 47-yarder, not a chip shot by any means, especially with the pressure of the moment. (If you ever make it onto a football field, look at the uprights from 47 yards away). It’s also forgotten that just before his missed field goal, the Bills had gotten inside the New York Giants’ 20 yard line, only to have the play called back because of a holding penalty. How many fans that watched the game even remember that? It’s not talked about much. What is talked about, and shown front and center in Super Bowl highlights, is the fact that he missed and the Bills lost. The game winning field goal would have been in the 30-yard range were it not for that penalty. Who was the culprit? And to be fair, did the holding penalty allow Thurman Thomas the room to get inside the 20 in the first place? Doesn’t matter. History cannot be changed. And history will show that Norwood missed the field goal that would have won the Super Bowl for the Bills. And if the Bills had won that game, there’s no telling how many Super Bowls the Bills would have won, even though there’s obviously no guarantee the Bills would have even gotten to the Super Bowl the next year, since history has shown us how difficult it is to repeat. I’m pretty sure that most Bills fans would take that one championship over four straight losses in the big game, though.
Doug Sanders had the 1970 British Open in his grasp. All that was standing in his way was a three foot putt on the final hole, and the Championship was his. Any amateur can knock in a three footer when it doesn’t mean anything. Well, this one meant something. A lot, in fact. Sanders had been pretty good since turning pro in the mid 50s, winning 17 tournaments, but no majors. And this putt was important. By making it, he would turn back Jack Nicklaus and win his first major championship. No one knows, or even cares, how many tournaments he won before or after that British Open. He lost decisively in a playoff to Jack the next day, and the missed putt is what is remembered. Sanders never reached the same level of play after that British Open that he had achieved before it. And everywhere he went, he was asked about the putt . . .
Doug Brien had two chances late in the game to push the New York Jets over the favored Pittsburgh Steelers in their playoff game following the 2004 season. He missed both field goals. Either would have won the game for the Jets and propelled them to the AFC Championship game against the New England Patriots. Never mind that Brien had hit numerous clutch kicks for the Jets during the season that had helped the Jets get to the playoffs. Brien had also hit several clutch kicks for the 49ers during his rookie year and had won a Super Bowl with them. He had hit kicks under pressure before, but they weren’t talked about nearly as much. After all, that’s what kickers are supposed to do, right? Deliver. Yet even on a field that was cold, muddy, and torn up, we don’t want to hear excuses. He choked, we say. And “How could you possibly miss that kick,” says Joe Sixpack. “You freaking piece of ####!” Oh well, Joe. Have another beer and tell everyone how even you could have made that kick. We have very little margin of error for our athletes. After all, they're making all this money and should be expected to come through. Perhaps, but the bad when they don't is not worth the good for many of them.
Bill Buckner broke into major league baseball in 1970 with the Los Angeles Dodgers, after having one at-bat in the 1969 season. He could hit line drives to any field, and had a swashbuckling style, sort of a fan favorite. What an irony that would prove to be. He didn’t have the greatest speed, but didn’t hesitate trying to stretch a single into a double if the opportunity arose. He was never one to jog to first base. In fact, players who did didn’t sit very well with Buckner. He finished with stats that would surprise a lot of fans-Wally Joyner, Dale Murphy, Fred Lynn, and Hall of Famers Willie Stargell, Dave Winfield, and the great Nellie Fox had lower career batting averages than Buckner. Granted some of those were power hitters, and had many more HRs than Buckner had. But Buckner also had a career fielding percentage of .991. That’s right, .991. Not bad for a player who shifted between the outfield and first base most of his career. But, unfortunately, that is not what he is remembered for. All of us, as sports fans, are guilty of holding players to the highest expectations. And we expect those expectations to be met. It's unfortunate, and sometimes excruciating for the fan, but more so for the athelete, when they aren't.
A little break from the current popular sports stories; NBA, Bonds, NHL, etc. Some of the best moments in sports were witnessed by millions but have been forgotten over time in favor of something more memorable that happened later on. As I stated in my 'About Me,' I have a wacked memory for sports happenings. The fact that I can set my keys down and have no idea where they are five minutes later has always baffled me, though. But I've always been able to remember bits of trivia or moments in sports like they happened yesterday, or at least last month. For example, who is the only player in MLB history to hit 35 homers and have 200 hits three straight years? (Answer at the end. The most logical guess would be Lou Gehrig. It's not him). Just one of many bits of trivia I have floating around. Without further ado, (and from memory-hopefully it's accurate), here is my list of some of the most (un)remembered happenings in sports.
1975 World Series: Everyone has seen the footage of Carlton Fisk coaxing his home run fair in the bottom on the 12th inning in Game 6. While there was a certain amount of pressure on him during that at-bat, it was nothing compared to the bottom of the 9th. The Red Sox trailed 6-3, were down 3-2 in the Series, had two runners on and two outs. In other words, last gasp. The Red Sox sent up a pinch hitter. He homered. Tie game. Way, way more dramatic that Fisk's home run in extra innings. It's a game that I watched, and I'll never forget it. Unfortunately though, it's been lost in Fisk's later heroics. Nothing against Fisk here. The pinch hitter's name? Bernie Carbo.
Super Bowl XXV: Scott Norwood. That name makes everyone say, "Oh, yeah. That one." Norwood missed a 47-yard field goal at the end of the game that would have won the Super Bowl for Buffalo. A 47-yarder is certainly not a chip shot, and he hit it well. It had plenty of distance, it was just wide by a small margin. Yet he has been villified as if he had hit it like a chunked pitching wedge. What has been forgotten is this: a couple plays before that, Thurman Thomas took a screen pass down to the Giants 17 yard line or so, but it was called back for holding. Nobody ever mentions that play. The real goat is the lineman who committed the penalty. (I'm not condemning the lineman here, just trying to make a point). I'm guessing that Norwood would have made a 35 yarder, but we'll never know. That was the first of four straight Super Bowls the Bills lost. Could it have been the first of two, three, or four that they won? We'll never know that either. Best NFL team that didn't win a championship? Has to be the Bills of the early 90s.
Rose Bowl 1997: Ohio State won with a late touchdown against Arizona State. The same Arizona State team that vaulted from #24 in the rankings into the top ten with a 19-0 victory over defending champion Nebraska early in the season. Jake Plummer was the QB of that Sun Devil team, and had a phenomenal season. What got lost in ASU coach Bruce Snyder's asinine decision to squib kick it after his Sun Devils had scored with a minute and a half left is this: During ASU's scoring drive to take the lead before that, Plummer threw an absolutely perfect fade pattern on fourth and 11 to a receiver who was covered like a blanket but caught the ball in the only possible place it could be thrown-over his outside shoulder. He made a spectacular diving catch that would be remembered as one of the great plays of all time had ASU won he game. Later on third and goal from the 11, Plummer dropped back to pass and had to scramble after finding no one open and getting pressured. And what a scramble it was. He somehow got the ball into the end zone. How Plummer didn't win the Heisman that year is beyond me. (Some guy from Florida won it. Must have been the media hype). To this day, one of the greatest games I've ever seen.
Nolan Ryan: Okay, this one isn't a moment, but rather a statement to those who say Roger Clemens is the greatest living pitcher. For starters, Ryan was 8-16 in 1987 but led the league in ERA. Think about that for a minute. (Again, these numbers are off the top of my head, so accuracy is hoped for, but not a given. I can assure you that they are not too far off). Ryan had 14 complete game one-hitters. A staggering number. So are his seven no-hitters, especially considering that two of those came after his 40th birthday. He had over a hundred games in his career where he struck out ten or more batters. Look at his innings pitched, complete games, and strikeout totals. And while you are doing that, keep in mind that even in his mid-40s, he still overpowered hitters on a regular basis. Clemens has had the luxury, due to free agency, of playing with some very good teams with good offenses. Ryan never had that. (Since I am just a wealth of information, here's a tidbit for our younger bloggers: Steve Carlton once won 27 games for a Phillies team that won 54 all season. I'll let you do the math and imagine that one.)
Spent half my life in North Dakota. The other half, so far, in the Valley of the Sun. As a kid, I was always playing, watching, reading, or writing about sports. I lost most of the "playing" along the way, but the rest remains the same. I pledge to refrain from commenting on a blog unless I've read it in its entirety. If I have time, of course.
Carry on.
Email address: rickoblog@ear thlink.net