Last night the Houston Astros tied the World Series at two games apiece with a history-making no-hitter. It was the first time in World Series history that a pitching staff pitched a combined no-hitter. Christian Javier, Bryan Abreu, Rafael Montero and Ryan Pressly shut down the hard-hitting Philadelphia Phillies 5-0 without a hit in a game for the ages. The only other World Series no-hitter occurred 66 years ago when Don Larsen of the New York Yankees threw his remarkable perfect game against the Brooklyn Dodgers.
The young flame-thrower Javier pitched the first six innings recording nine strikeouts. Abreu, Montero and Pressly each pitched one inning mowing down the Phils with ease. The four pitchers totaled 14 punchouts. They allowed three walks for the only Phillie baserunners.
An interesting comparison between Larsen’s masterpiece and last night’s gem was the similarity of pitching deliveries. Larsen was noted for his no-windup delivery which back in the fifties was very uncommon. Today many pitchers throw without a windup and have tremendous success as was evident last night. All four Astro pitchers used a no-windup delivery. Of course, it would be unheard of back in the fifties to remove a pitcher in the sixth inning throwing a no-hitter. Things have changed nowadays, and no one has questioned Dusty Baker’s decision to remove Javier. In fact, the Astros had a similar combined no-hitter against the Yankees in 2003. And since Houston had a comfortable 5-0 lead last night it made sense to remove Javier in case he is needed again if the series goes to seven games.
We’ll see if Philadelphia can bounce back tonight.
Last night Aaron Judge hit his 61st home run of the 2022 season and tied Roger Maris for the American League single-season home run record. The momentous blast over the leftfield wall in Toronto occurred in the top of the seventh inning against Blue Jay lefty Tim Mayza. The home run propelled the Yankees to an 8-3 victory over the Blue Jays.
Judge’s home run ironically came 61 years after the Maris record which was set in 1961. The ball bounced back onto the playing field where it was retrieved and given to Judge. He in turn gave the historic baseball to his mom in a touching moment.
This historic event has specific meaning for me. As a nine-year-old I was fortunate enough to attend the game in 1961 where Maris hit his 61st. Pictured above is the ticket stub from that game that my brother saved. Back then our dad made it his mission to take us to at least one Yankee game every year. The trek over to Yankee Stadium from New Jersey wasn’t always an easy one especially for my dad who worked in construction and the summer and early fall were extremely busy for him. But we made it to that game. The last game of the 1961 season. And it will forever be etched in our memories.
Congrats to Aaron Judge for his tremendous achievement and to Roger Maris for all the memories. And thanks, dad.
On Friday night Albert Pujols hit the 699th and 700th home runs of his illustrious career. Only three other major leaguers have hit 700 or more home runs. Babe Ruth was the first, finishing his career in 1935 with 714 home runs. That number remained the gold standard for 39 years until Hank Aaron surpassed it in 1974. Hammerin’ Hank finished his career in 1976 with 755 round trippers. It would take another 33 years until Barry Bonds passed Aaron in 2007. Bonds holds the all-time record as he finished his career with 762.
Although Pujols may still have plenty left in the tank he has vowed to end his 22-year career at the end of this season. His production numbers have dropped dramatically over the past several years. Pujols saw a modest resurgence this year fueled by a return to his beloved St. Louis Cardinals and the implementation of the DH in the National League, but it is unlikely that if he continued playing, he could seriously challenge the Bonds home run record.
Yet what a way to go out! Prince Albert will add 700 home runs to the list of the incredible achievements of his 22-year career which include three MVP awards, the 2001 Rookie of the Year award and two-time NL home run leader. Pujols also is the only player in major league history to hit 400 home runs in his first ten seasons.
A fabulous way to end a remarkable Hall-of-Fame career.
Last night Aaron Judge of the New York Yankees became only the sixth major leaguer to hit or surpass 60 home runs in a single season.
Only Babe Ruth, Roger Maris, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds have accomplished that incredible feat.
Babe Ruth had 60 home runs in 1927 with the Yankees.
Roger Maris 61 in 1961 with the Yankees.
Mark McGwire 70 in 1998 and 65 in 1999 with the St. Louis Cardinals.
Sammy Sosa 66 in 1998, 63 in 1999 and 64 in 2001 with the Chicago Cubs.
Barry Bonds has the Major League record with 73 which he hit in 2001 with the San Francisco Giants.
Judge now holds the American League single season record for most home runs by a right-handed batter. Jimmy Foxx hit 58 for the Philadelphia Athletics and Hank Greenberg had 58 in 1938 for the Detroit Tigers.
Although the 60-home run mark has been a milestone for nearly a century those who have achieved it have done so with a certain amount of controversy.
Ruth achieved his feat during an era when some of the greatest baseball players were not allowed to play in the major leagues due to racial segregation.
Maris reached 60 home runs only after the majors extended the season from 154 games to 162. Thus, giving him more games than Ruth.
McGwire, Sosa and Bonds all reached the 60-home run mark during the steroid era. McGwire has admitted that he used steroids to improve his power numbers. Though there is much evidence to the contrary Sosa and Bonds have not admitted steroid use.
To this point Judge’s pursuit of the single season home run record has been met with tremendous excitement and no controversy. We’ll see how far he goes. I for one will be rooting for him.
This incredible photo was taken on September 18, 1965, at Mickey Mantle Day in Yankee Stadium. The Mick is with New York Senator Bobby Kennedy who had come to the Stadium to take part in the event honoring the Yankee legend. The photo was signed by Mantle and given to my friend who had worked on the RFK presidential campaign in 1968. My friend had read my book Mickey Mantle’s Last Home Run and understood the metaphoric connection between Mickey and Bobby. Kennedy had won the New York Senate seat the previous November.
On that September day Mickey Mantle and Bobby Kennedy were probably the two most popular people in New York and the entire country. Though Mantle was on the downside of his playing days he was at the pinnacle of his fame and New Yorkers were coming to appreciate what he meant to the city and to baseball. And Mickey Mantle Day was a time to show it.
Bobby Kennedy was carrying the torch of optimism once held by his deceased brother and was happy to have the opportunity to bask in Mickey’s glory.
In just a few short years Mickey Mantle’s remarkable career would fade away in retirement and Bobby Kennedy’s valiant life of public service would end tragically.
Though their paths would never again cross Mickey and Bobby would forever be etched on the soul of America.
On this day 59 years ago something unique occurred in baseball history. The three Alou brothers: Felipe, Matty, and Jesus, all played together in the same outfield for the Giants. Three brothers in the same outfield had never happened before. In the game, played on September 15, 1963, at Forbes Field, the Giants defeated the Pirates 13-5 in front on 18,916 fans. The game featured Hall-of-Famers Willie Mays, Orlando Cepeda, and Willie McCovey for the Giants; and Roberto Clemente and Bill Mazerowski for the Pirates.
The three Alou’s played together in eight games in 1963. Felipe, then 28, was a regular outfielder for the Giants; Matty, 24, was a defensive replacement and pinch hitter who started only six games; and Jesus, 21, was a September call-up. They played in the same outfield for a few innings in three games in September. Despite some lingering baseball mythology, they never all started a game together.
Jesus made his debut on Sept. 10, and it was unique in its own right. Manager Al Dark had the Alou brothers bat consecutively in the eighth inning, Jesus and Matty as pinch hitters before Felipe came up. The Alou’s went 0 for 3 against the Mets’ Carlton Willey. On Sept. 15, the historic day, Felipe played all three outfield positions, and Matty and Jesus joined him in the outfield as late-inning substitutes. Two days later, Felipe started again and Matty and Jesus moved into the outfield late in the game. On Sept. 22, they played in the outfield together one last time, with Felipe again starting and ultimately playing all three positions before Matty and Jesus flanked him in the late innings. The Alou’s all played in the same game one more time, on Sept. 25, when Felipe started, and his brothers pinch-hit.
The next season Felipe was traded to the Milwaukee Braves. The brothers all played at least 15 seasons in the major leagues, but there were no more all-Alou outfields!
Felipe was the best of the Alou brothers with 2,101 hits from 1958-74. Matty had 1,777 hits from 1960-74 and Jesus had 1,216 from 1963-79. The Alou’s, some of the first ball players to come from the Dominican Republic, played a combined 47 seasons. Matty Alou passed away in 2011.
A lot has been made of Aaron Judge’s remarkable season. He recently blew past the 50-home run mark and all eyes are upon him as he heads towards 60. But what about all those sluggers who made it all the way to 49 home runs and never got to that milestone number 50.
A review of the 49er’s list includes some of baseball’s best hitters.
Lou Gehrig reached 49 twice in 1934 and 1936, as did Harmon Killebrew in 1964 and 1969.
Frank Robinson hit 49 home runs in his 1966 Triple Crown season. Ted Kluszewski blasted 49 in 1954. Larry Walker clubbed 49 round trippers in 1997.
The slugfest year of 2001, when Barry Bonds led the way with his record shattering 73 home runs, also provided 3 members of the 49ers Club; Shawn Green, Todd Helton and Jim Thome.
Eugenio Suarez who is still active hit 49 homers in 2019.
And finally, there is future Hall of Famer Albert Pujols who has belted 40 or more home runs in seven seasons topping out with 49 in 2006.
Quite an extraordinary, though overlooked achievement, by a group of some great Major League sluggers.
August is a great month for baseball. The winter sports have totally petered out. Football is grinding through a sweltering preseason just hoping no major stars will get injured. And with baseball heating up and embracing the steamy, sunny days and warm, sultry nights, I was ready.
First there were softball playoffs. I’m in two leagues, an over age 60’s league and an over 70’s league. In the 60’s league our team lost in the best of three semi-finals. Although we lost, we did our best and had just as much fun playing as we did celebrating the end of another season with a couple cool ones and great conversation later at Rocky’s Bar.
Our 70′ team lost both ends of a Thursday morning double-header—game two of which was shortened to five innings due to the increasing mid-day heat. We were sure we would have won had we gone the full seven though none of us complained as we retired to the shade of a broad oak tree debating what could have been.
Next came a Friday night trip to Yankee Stadium with my daughter, her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s father. It was a belated Father’s Day present and an absolutely wonderful way to spend a warm summer night. As we watched the game, we swapped stories about the many previous games we attended over the years. Although the Yanks were slumping and got shutout, the Big Ballpark in the Bronx never looked better. And along with our stories, the fan cam scenes of our jubilant and uninhibited fellow Yankee aficionados made the evening memorable and entertaining.
I was back at the Stadium on Sunday with two of my buddies as we celebrated our upcoming seventieth birthdays. This day there was more success on the field though some serious trepidation on line prior to the game. My friend Al, who was in charge of the tickets, had trouble locating them on his smartphone. As my other friend, the none-soon-to-be-septuagenarian Jeff, growled about the ravages of technology, I was of absolutely no help futilely fumbling with my phone looking for the e-tickets I was sure I had somewhere in my troves of undeleted emails. Somehow Al eventually found the tickets, we made it inside and we were treated to an exciting game decided by a late inning rocket of a home run by an unlikely source, the light-hitting Andrew Benintendi. All was right with the world has the Bombers’ losing streak came to an end.
Although baseball’s charms can best be experienced in a warm summer breeze, they can also be enjoyed on the couch in front of the TV in some AC. And that’s how I partook of the pleasures of watching women’s softball and the Little League World Series. Both are fast paced and highly entertaining versions of the national pastime featuring plenty of sensational plays and high drama but without the drawn out starts and stops that slow down the major league game. However, the question remains; when watching the Little League World Series, we know we are watching potential major leaguers but why are we not when watching these extremely athletic and talented women softball players?
I continued my August coach potato routine by watching The Captain, the ESPN documentary about Derek Jeter. As a Yankee fan ya gotta love Jeter and the series is highly entertaining. But Jeter’s entire theme is that, in baseball, winning is everything, and he sure did a lot of it leading the Yankees to five World Championships. But as you have been reading in this post and in my blog, baseball is about a lot more than just winning.
Then on Thursday I attended a minor league game with my three high school buddies. We hadn’t all been together for 20 years. If you haven’t been to a minor league baseball game on a warm summer night, do it! Inexpensive, plenty of tasty food, not too crowded, good quality play. Really, you should try it. I’m serious! And go with family and friends. We spent most of the night reminiscing about the bygone days as we sat at a comfortable concession stand table sipping on beer and soft drinks. And yes, there was a ball game going on in the background. A pretty darn good one as a dramatic ninth inning game-tying double sent us into extra inning. But that was not the point. We had seen thousands of games over the years but this time old friends Tony, Bruce, Neil and I were once again together and that was what mattered.
Finally on the last Friday of the month I enjoyed the last of my August baseball charms. My friend Frank arranged a visit at the home of his friend Cal who has an impressive collection of baseball memorabilia. I know Frank through my father-in-law Herb who passed away at the age of 99 a year ago. Herb and Frank became friends because they were, what else? big baseball fans, and Frank wanted to make sure I got to see Cal’s basement baseball museum. We were not disappointed. Cal had every manner of baseball relics from autographed baseballs and photos, to gloves and bats, to programs, yearbooks and vintage baseball cards. But what was best about Cal’s collection was not so such the individual items but the stories behind them. We listened with rapt attention to Cal’s tales, each more enthralling than the previous one. As our visit came to a close the inevitable question was posed to Cal. “How much is all this worth?” He didn’t hesitate to answer. “I don’t think of my collection in those terms. What is important to me is being able to show these items to baseball fans like you and to tell my stories.”
Although he didn’t actually say it, we knew what he meant. To Cal each item in his collection is priceless.
I will never forget this day 27 years ago when Mickey Mantle passed away at the age of 63. Growing up in New Jersey in the late fifties and early sixties Mantle was more than a star, more than an icon, he was a constant—a force of nature binding together the scattered remnants of the big bang.
If you were a kid in those days, who liked baseball, Mantle was everything—the best slugger with the best smile and the best name—the best baseball player period. He was always there, and we never knew a world without him. His presence was transcendent, and it seemed it would never change. Summers were endless, playing ball was ceaseless. And Mickey Mantle’s roughed elegance was timeless.
I thought about all of this the day the Mick died, but most of all I thought about how much he meant to my childhood, and it brought tears to my eyes as the hero of my youth would now be left only to my memories.
Vin Scully passed away yesterday at the age of 94. He was born in the Bronx in 1927 the same year Babe Ruth hit his record-shattering 60 home runs but later his family moved to Manhattan, and he became a New York Giants fan. With baseball in his blood, Scully played the outfield for Fordham University and eventually landed a job as an announcer for the then Brooklyn Dodgers. A ginger himself, he honed his craft under the tutelage of the “ol’ Redhead” Red Barber, but when Barber moved over to the Yankees in 1954, the Dodger broadcast booth became Scully’s domain. He followed Dem Bums to Los Angeles in 1957 and would be the voice of the Dodgers for 67 years until retiring in 2016.
He called classic games: Don Larsen’s perfect World Series game in 1956, the Mets improbable comeback in game six of the 1986 World Series and Kirk Gibson’s unbelievable game-winning home run against the Oakland A’s in game one of the 1988 World Series. All these games are featured in my book Grandpa Gordy’s Greatest World Series Games. Click the link. https://amzn.to/2T9lYVT
You can see the You Tube video of the Gibson home run here.
All together Scully called three perfect games and 20 no-hitters.
My most personnel memory of Vin Scully was his call of the 1963 World Series. I was eleven years old at the time and as a die-hard Yankee fan I wasn’t expecting my Yankees to lose to the lowly Dodgers. But that they did in four straight agonizing games with Vin Scully at the mike for much of it. His iconic voice, which everyone is praising, would be like fingernails on a chalk board for me for many years. But fortunately, I grew up and got over it. Like everyone in the sports world I grew to have nothing but respect for Vin Scully and his indelible impact on the wonderful world of baseball.