1978 World Series

When the two teams met again the following fall, it was very much an encore of the previous season. Once again, the Dodgers knocked off the Phillies in the NLCS, while the Yankees ended the Royals' season for the third straight year. Of course, the Yankees struggled to even reach the ALCS. The 1978 AL East wasn't the summer long three team dog fight that it had been the previous year, but the Yankees needed a furious late season comeback and one game playoff in Boston to win the division. Oddly enough, the big blow in that game - Bucky Dent's improbable go-ahead homer - was served up by Mike Torrez, who had signed with Boston after winning Game Six of the '77 Series for the Yankees.

Both clubs carried relatively the same rosters as in '77, but for the Yankees there were two major changes: one in the bullpen, one in the dugout. Goose Gossage was signed as a free agent in the off-season, relegating Sparky Lyle to a lesser role in bullpen. Or, as Graig Nettles put it, causing him to go from Cy Young to sayonara. Meanwhile, the ever present tension amongst Steinbrenner, Martin, and Jackson finally boiled over in July. Martin suspended Jackson for failing to follow a bunt sign, then choosing to follow it after it had been taken off. Feeling that Steinbrenner didn't have his back, Martin quipped "The two deserve each other. One's a born liar, the other's convicted", referencing Steinbrenner's earlier conviction for illegal campaign contributions to Richard Nixon. Citing his health, Martin resigned before he could be fired, replaced by Bob Lemon. Then, in a move perfectly representative of the Bronx Zoo years, at Old Timers Day, five days after his resignation, it was announced that Martin would return as Yankee manager in 1980, with Lemon being promoted to the general manager's position.

-1978-

The Series began in L.A. on Tuesday October 10th. Tommy John, who had lost Game Three to the Yankees the year before, started for L.A. The Yankees countered with Ed Figueroa, who had just become the first, and thus far only, native of Puerto Rico to post a twenty win season. The Dodgers chased Figueroa early, with homers from Dusty Baker and Davey Lopes knocking him from the game in the second. Ken Clay, Paul Lindblad, and Dick Tidrow didn't offer any relief, combining to allow an additional eight runs. The Yankees put up five over the seventh and eighth, including another homer from Reggie Jackson, but it was a drop in the bucket as the Dodgers won 11-5.

The Yankees sent Catfish Hunter out to oppose Burt Hooton in Game Two. A two run double from Jackson gave the Yankees the lead in the third. The Dodgers got on the board with a Ron Cey RBI single in the fourth, and took the lead when he hit a three run homer in the sixth. Jackson brought the Yankees within one with an RBI groundout in the seventh, and had a chance to tie it in the ninth. Jackson came up with two outs, runners on first and second, and the Yankees trailing by a run. Lasorda called on fireballing twenty one year old rookie Bob Welch. In a 1-2 hole, Jackson fouled off four pitches in working the count full. On the ninth pitch of the at bat, Welch blew one by Jackson, putting the Dodgers up two games.

Back in New York for Game Three, the Yankees sent Ron Guidry out to avoid falling behind three games. Guidry had just turned in the finest pitching season in Yankee history, going 25 and 3 in 35 starts, his final victory coming in the one game playoff in Boston. He led the league in wins, winning percentage at .893, ERA at 1.74, shutouts with nine, WHIP at 0.946, and hits per nine at 6.1. He also led the league in WAR on his way to capturing the Cy Young Award and a second place MVP finish. He had a convincing victory against Kansas City in the ALCS and with his team in desperate need of win in Game Three, Guidry found a way to dominate without having his best stuff. He struck out only four and worked around eight hits and seven walks, but allowed just one run in nine innings of work. Graig Nettles made no fewer than four outstanding plays at the hot corner to help Guidry work out of trouble. The Yankees got a second inning home run from veteran Roy White, and RBIs from Dent, Munson, Jackson, and Piniella to take a 5-1 victory.


Game Four was a rematch between John and Figueroa. A three run homer by Reggie Smith in the fifth opened the scoring. The Yankees got two back in the sixth. A single by White and a walk to Munson put two on for Jackson. His single scored White to make it 3-1, but his biggest contribution came from his butt rather than his bat. With Munson on second and Jackson on first, Lou Piniella bounced a tailor made double play ball to short. Bill Russell made the force at second, but as his relay throw sailed towards first, Jackson, caught halfway between the bases, not-so-subtly turned his right hip into the path of the ball. The ball bounced off into short right field, allowing Munson to score despite the protests of Tommy Lasorda. In the eighth, Paul Blair led off a with a single, moved to second on a sacrifice from White, and scored the tying run when Munson doubled him home. Welch and Gossage kept the slate clean in the ninth. In the bottom of the tenth White drew a one out walk. Without two outs, Jackson turned the tables on Welch, singling to keep the inning alive. Piniella followed with a base hit, and the Yankees walked off with the Series tied at two.

For Game Five, the Yankees turned to young Jim Beattie, passing over Hunter. The tall 23 year old rookie had made the fourth most starts for the club on the season, but was also demoted mid-season and was skipped on several occasions. He put the Yankees in a two run hole over the first three innings, but his offense soon came to his aid. White, Munson, and Piniella combined to drive in four runs in the third, then Rivers, White, and Munson combined for three more in the fourth. Beattie shut the Dodgers down the rest of the way and the Yankees added five more in the seventh and eighth to take a convincing 12-1 victory and come back from being down 0-2 take a 3-2 lead in the Series.

Back in L.A. the Yankees looked to Catfish Hunter to close it out, while the Dodgers asked Don Sutton to save their season. Davey Lopes' leadoff home run gave the Dodgers a 1-0 first inning lead, but in the top of the second Brian Doyle, subbing for an injured Willie Randolph, doubled home Nettles, and Bucky Dent followed with a single that scored Jim Spencer and Doyle. Lopes made it 3-2 with an RBI single in the third, but it was the last offense the Dodgers would get. Hunter, pitching in the 22nd and final post-season game of his career shut the Dodgers down into the eighth. Doyle and Dent added RBIs in the sixth, and Jackson hit a two run shot off Welch in the seventh to make it 7-2. Gossage retired the final five in a row, and the Yankees had won their second consecutive title and their twenty second overall.

1977 World Series

Fourteen years passed before the Yankees and Dodgers met again. Baseball underwent some significant changes in that time. After years of pitching dominance, Major League Baseball lowered the mound to a regulation 10 inches after the 1968 season. Both leagues added two new teams for the '69 season, causing both leagues to split into two six team divisions, with the winners meeting in a League Championship Series prior to the World Series. The AL added two more teams in 1977, by which point the AL was in its fifth year of using the designated hitter, and multi-use, cookie-cutter, Astroturf parks had become home to about a third of baseball's clubs.

-1977-

Despite all the changes, there was an air of familiarity as the World Series dawned in October. The Dodgers, who had made three World Series appearances since their last meeting with the Yankees, put an end to the Big Red Machine's reign of terror over the National League, outpacing Cincinnati by ten games for the NL West flag then dispensing with Philadelphia in the NLCS.

The Yankees meanwhile were making their second consecutive appearance in the Fall Classic. After faltering through the late sixties and early seventies they returned to the World Series in '76 only to be swept by the mighty Reds. The Yankees went through a soap opera season in '77, winning a three team battle with Boston and Baltimore for the division crown, and fighting a three headed battle amongst their owner, manager, and star slugger on the tabloid backpages throughout the summer. Despite the turmoil, they not only won the division, but knocked Kansas City out of the ALCS for the second consecutive year.

While none of the players had been around long enough to remember past Yankee-Dodger tilts, there were folks in each dugout who had plenty of memories. The Yankees were managed by the combustible Billy Martin, a veteran of four Subway Series against Brooklyn in the fifties. His coaching staff featured Yogi Berra and Elston Howard, who between them faced the Dodgers in ten World Series.

Meanwhile the Dodgers coaching staff featured Junior Gilliam, a veteran of four World Series against the Yankees. Dodgers rookie manager Tommy Lasorda had ties to both organizations. Lasorda succeeded the legendary Walter Alston with four games remaining in the 1976 season. Alston had been the Dodger manager since 1954, dating back to their days in Brooklyn. Three times his clubs faced the Yankees in the Fall Classic, and twice they had emerged victorious. Lasorda made eight appearances as a middling pitcher on those '54 and '55 teams. After washing out with the Athletics in 1956, Lasorda was traded to the Yankees and assigned to their top affiliate in Denver. The next year he was traded back to the Dodgers, spent three more years in their system, then began a career as a scout, minor league manager, coach, and eventually their skipper.

The Series began at Yankee Stadium on Tuesday October 11th. For the Dodgers, longtime ace Don Sutton was on the mound. The Yankees sent lefty Don Gullett to oppose him. Just 26 years old, Gullett was the Yankees' second biggest free agent signing the previous off-season. He broke in with the Reds as a 19 year old in 1970 and was a member of their back-to-back World Series winners in '75 and '76. Arm troubles had prevented Gullett from pitching a full season since 1974, and limited him to just 22 starts in his first season with the Yanks.

Gullett spotted the Dodgers to a 2-0 lead in the first, walking leadoff man Davey Lopes, allowing a triple to Bill Russell, and surrendering a sacrifice fly to Ron Cey. The Yankees got one back in the bottom half, as an RBI single from Chris Chambliss scored Thurman Munson. Gullett settled down from there, shutting the Dodgers out through the eighth. The Yankees tied in the sixth on a solo shot from Willie Randolph, and took the lead in the eighth, when Munson doubled Randolph home.

Given the lead, Martin elected to stick with Gullett rather than summon relief ace and eventual AL Cy Young Award winner Sparky Lyle. Lyle was coming off an outstanding season, tossing 137 innings of relief to a 2.17 ERA, saving 26 games and winning 13 more. Dusty Baker singled to start the frame, and after Manny Mota flew out, Steve Yeager walked. With the tying run in scoring position Lyle came on, and allowed a game tying single to Lee Lacy. The teams traded zeros into the twelfth, with Lyle retiring eleven in a row after the game tying hit. Randolph led off the bottom of the inning with a double. The Dodgers walked Munson to face light hitting defensive replacement Paul Blair, and the former longtime Oriole delivered a game winning base hit.

Game Two matched Burt Hooton against Catfish Hunter. Hunter fronted the A's rotation as they won three straight titles earlier in the decade, then signed with the Yankees as a free agent prior to the '75 season. Though only 31, Hunter had logged more than 3,000 Major League innings, and they had begun to take their toll upon his arm. He was limited to just 22 starts in '77, but he was a certified big game pitcher and his championship pedigree was considered to be a major influence in putting the Yankees over the top. Hunter couldn't recapture his past magic in Game Two though, lasting only two and a third surrendering five runs on homers to Ron Cey, Steve Yeager, and Reggie Smith. Hooton allowed just six base runners over nine innings, and the Dodgers evened things up with a 6-1 victory.

Two days later in L.A., veteran starters Tommy John and Mike Torrez got the ball for the Dodgers and Yankees respectively. This time, it was the Yankees jumping out to an early lead, riding back-to-back-to-back RBI hits from Munson, Reggie Jackson, and Lou Piniella to a 3-0 lead. The Dodgers drew even in the third on a three run homer from Baker. The following inning, a Mickey Rivers groundout pushed Graig Nettles across with the go-ahead run, and an RBI single from Chambliss the following inning made it 5-3. Torrez shut the Dodgers down the rest of the way, and the Yankees jumped up two games to one.

The Yankees sent Ron Guidry to the mound for Game Four. After appearing briefly in '75 and '76, Guidry established himself as a valuable starter in 1977, his five shutouts portending things to come. Once again, the Yankees gave their starter an early 3-0 lead, as RBIs from Piniella, Nettles, and Bucky Dent chased Dodgers started Doug Rau in the second. Guidry gave two back in the third on a homer by Davey Lopes, but it was all the scoring the Dodgers would do. Reggie Jackson added a home run in the sixth, and Guidry surrendered four hits, three walks, and struck out seven in tossing the Yankees second straight complete game.

With their back against the wall, the Dodgers went back to Sutton in Game Five. A first inning RBI single from Bill Russell gave them an early lead, then they pounded Gullett, Ken Clay, and Dick Tidrow nine more across the middle three frames. The Yankees had a late rally, scoring two in the seventh and two more in the eighth on solo shots from Munson and Jackson, but it wasn't enough, as they fell 10-4.

As the teams returned to New York for Game Six, Reggie Jackson was winding down a tumultuous first season in pinstripes. The prize of the first free agent class the previous winter, George Steinbrenner was hellbent on making a splash by adding Jackson's potent bat and flair for the dramatic to the heart of the Yankee order. Martin preferred Orioles second baseman Bobby Grich, with designs on using him to fill the Yankees gaping hole at shortstop. Per usual, Steinbrenner got his way. The three clashed repeatedly over the course of the season: over Jackson's spot in the batting order, over whether he'd be the right fielder or the designated hitter, over everything. When Martin felt Jackson loafed it fielding a ball during a summer game at Fenway Park, he replaced him mid-inning. The two nearly came to blows in the dugout. Jackson's social awkwardness and desire for attention made him a bit of a misfit in a clubhouse full of gruff personalities, and his spring training interview with Sport magazine, in which he claimed he was "the straw that stirred the drink" and took a swipe at respected team captain Thurman Munson, alienated him from nearly the entire roster.

Despite all that, Jackson entered Game Six doing what he did best: shining on the big stage. His legend began as an A, with a monstrous home run off a Tiger Stadium roof transformer in the 1971 All-Star Game. That fall, in post-season play for the first time, Jackson knocked two more homers in a losing effort in the ALCS. A leg injury suffered in the ALCS the following year kept Jackson out of the '72 Series, but he returned with homers in the '73 Series against the Mets, the '74 Series against the Dodgers, and the '75 ALCS against the Red Sox.

When Jackson stepped into the batters with one on and no one out in the fourth inning of Game Six, he had already homered twice over the Series' first five games. With a chance to clinch, the Yankees were trailing 3-2, a Chris Chambliss home run not enough to overcome Steve Garvey's two run triple and Reggie Smith's solo shot. As he so often did though, Jackson game through when it mattered most. He took Hooton's first offering and launched it into the right field stands.

Jackson came up the following inning. The Yankees were now leading 5-3. Willie Randolph was on first with two outs and Elias Sosa had replaced Hooton on the mound. Jackson took Sosa' first offering and deposited into the right field seats to make it 7-3 Yankees. Three innings later, Jackson led off against Dodger fireman Charlie Hough. Jackson jumped on the knuckleballer's first pitch, blasting into the black bleacher seats in dead center field. In doing so, Jackson joined Babe Ruth as the only men to hit three homers in a World Series game. Torrez gave one back in the ninth to make it 8-4, but when he squeezed a pop bunt of the bat off Lee Lacy for the game's final out, the Yankees had their first championship in fifteen years.

15 Days Until Spring Training: Thurman Munson

Aside from the natural ability to hit and play the position, Thurman Munson had plenty of characteristics that perfectly suited him to be the Yankees' catcher. He was pugnacious, rugged and passionate, willing to sacrifice his body on any given play. He was simultaneously proud and humble, holding the game of baseball in the highest regard. Furthermore, he had a mean-ass mustache and hated the Red Sox. Boy, did he hate the Red Sox. I'd like to think that if he was alive today, old Squatty Body would have rather liked the name of this blog.

The above sequence is from a game at Fenway, on August 1st, 1973. Stick Michael was up to bat in the top of the 9th with the score tied, and failed to make contact on a suicide squeeze, unleashing Munson down the third baseline towards Sox catcher Carlton Fisk. Munson led with a left forearm and Pudge went low, sending the two tumbling over home plate. Fisk held onto the ball, Munson was out, and they quickly got to their feet and began exchanging blows.

Munson and Pudge had a contentious rivalry which extended beyond your typical rival hatred. Although some elements of the feud may have been exaggerated in Munson's biography written by Christopher Devine, there was a legitimate dislike between the two that was exacerbated by the teams they played for.

Perhaps the seeds of Munson's hatred of Boston were planted, like mine, in the time he spent there as a young man. In the summer of 1967, Joe "Skippy" Lewis, manager of the Chatham A's of the Cape Cod Baseball League offered Munson a spot as their starting catcher, along with a side job with the Chatham Parks Department for $75 a week. In 39 games that summer, Munson hit .420 as a catcher, .65 higher than any other other player in the league and was named MVP of the league. Now, the winner of the CCBL batting title receives the Thurman Munson Award.

It was during his time on the Cape that he was discovered by the Yankees. They selected him with the fourth overall pick in the 1968 Amateur Draft, gave him a $75,000 signing bonus and a $500 per week salary.

Munson made his debut in 1969 but appeared in only 26 games. In 1970, he won Rookie of the Year, netting 96% of the vote after batting .302/.386/.415. While remaining solid behind the plate, Munson had two years in 1971 & '72 where he was above league average, but unspectacular offensively.

Although it was not recognized as such by the MVP voting, 1973 was Munson's finest year as a hitter. He raked 29 doubles, 20 homers and hit .301/.362/.487, good for a 141 OPS+. That season was also the beginning of Thurm's three year Gold Glove and six year All-Star appearance streaks. In each of those six years, Munson placed in the MVP voting and played 144 games or more behind the plate.

He was named Yankee captain in 1975, claiming a post that Lou Gehrig vacated with his farewell speech in 1939. In 1976, Munson clocked 17 homers, 27 doubles, drove in 105 runs and was rewarded with the AL MVP, receiving 18 out of a possible 24 first place votes. A testament to his hard-headed, competitive nature, that year he stole 14 bases but was caught 11 times. In fact, over his career, he was actually caught more than he was successful, stealing only 48 bases in 98 tries.

Munson was behind the plate for Ron Guidry's legendary 1978 season, where he went 25-3 with a 1.74ERA. Guidry later said about Munson, "I went through the whole year never shaking him off one time. He always knew when to say something, and when to shut up."

Munson had three children who lived with his wife in Canton, Ohio, where he grew up. He often grew homesick and decided to take flying lessons to make it easier to commute back and forth to see his family. On August 2nd, 1979, he was practicing take-offs and landings at Akron-Canton Regional Airport when he met his untimely end.

On the approach to the runway, Munson dropped the flaps on the wings of his Cessna Citation I/SP, but waited too long before giving the plane more power. As a result, the aircraft came up well short of the intended target. Munson had failed to fasten his shoulder strap, was paralyzed during the initial impact and trapped inside the cockpit when the plane finally came to a rest after rolling and sliding for over 500 feet. His flight instructor, David Hall and his friend Kenny Anderson attempted to free Munson, but the plane caught on fire and they were forced to retreat. His last words were "Get me out of here! Please get me out!" A tragic and powerless cry for help that in no way reflected the way he lived. He was 32 years old.

Munson's funeral was held four days later on August 6th in Canton, Ohio. Lou Pinella and other Yankees spoke while Bobby Murcer delivered the eulogy that morning. That same day, the team took the field back in the Bronx to face the Orioles. Ron Guidry started but through the top of the 7th, the Yanks were down 4-0. Then with two outs in the bottom half of the frame, Bucky Dent worked a walk. Willie Randolph followed with a double, bringing up Murcer. Facing Dennis Martinez, Murcer blasted a three run shot, bringing the Yanks within one.

Guidry remained in the game, holding the O's at 4 through the tops of the 8th and 9th. Just as it was in the 7th, Bucky Dent reached base on a walk in the 9th, putting the tying run on base. Next up, Willie Randolph laid down a bunt in an attempt to move Dent over but Tippy Martinez made a throwing error that allowed the runners to advance to second and third. This brought up Murcer once again and he poked a single to left which drove in the tying and winning runs. Guidry got a complete game win and Murcer drove in all five runs for the Yankees.

Despite it's brevity, Thurm's career was one of constant success. In each of his nine full seasons as a player, he captured either the Rookie of the Year, Gold Glove, MVP, or a World Series Championship.

When someone dies young, they are enshrined in our minds in their youth. There is a different legacy left than when we watch a person decline with age, grow frail and forget people's names. We see the sad portrayal of modern day Muhammad Ali, but only remember the dynamic vibrance of a prime Jimi Hendrix.

Munson's number was retired immediately after his death and an empty locker with the number 15 was kept in the Yankees Clubhouse through the closing of the Old Stadium. Written by George Steinbrenner, his plaque in Monument Park reads:

Our captain and leader has not left us, today, tomorrow, this year, next ... Our endeavors will reflect our love and admiration for him.

The 30th annual Thurman Munson Awards dinner will be held tonight at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan and will honor Joba Chamberlain, Darryl Strawberry and Lou Pinella, among others. The foundation has raised over $10M for children and adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities since its inception.

In Appreciation Of Andy Pettitte

Last night's eighth and ninth innings featured huge home runs by the Yankee bats and a bit of a high wire act from the previously untouchable bullpen duo of Phil Hughes and Mariano Rivera. But prior to Johnny Damon launching his third career HR against Roy Halladay, it was a classic pitcher's duel.

After allowing two quick runs in the first, Roy Halladay started pitching like the best pitcher in the AL again, shutting the Yanks down until the eighth inning. But Andy Pettitte, enjoying a second half renaissance that's the polar opposite of his 2008 second half, was more than up to the task. He's not the horse that can go the distance anymore, but when he handed the ball to Phil Hughes with two outs in the seventh, Pettitte had done all that could have been asked of him and more.

As I drove to work Monday morning, I was thinking of Andy Pettitte. Why, I'm not quite sure. I mean I think about baseball constantly it seems, but why Pettitte popped into my mind at that point I don't know. What occured to me about Pettitte is that he is now in his fifteenth Major League season. I was conscious of the fact that he debuted in 1995, but it never quite dawned on me just how long ago that was.

I can remember Pettitte coming up through the system. I probably first heard of him on Yankees Magazine or something. When the 1994 strike hit, I did my best to satisfy my baseball jones by keeping up with the Yankees' minor leaguers through the now-defunct Baseball Weekly. I remember being impressed with his stats on his way to a 14-4, 2.86 ERA season split between AA and AAA. I remember arguing with my father as to whether the name was pronounced "PET-it" or "peh-TEE-tee". (I was right).

When Pettitte arrived in New York the next spring, he immediately reminded me of Ron Guidry: a homegrown, Louisiana-born lefty, his #46 reminiscient of Guidry's #49. Like Gator, Pettitte kicked off his career working out of the pen, before transitioning to the rotation early in his rookie year. Like Guidry, Pettitte had immense success early in his career. Louisiana Lightning turned in his remarkable 25-3 1.78 year in his second full season, winning the Cy Young Award. Pettitte went 21-8 in his second season, finishing second in Cy Young voting. Both pitchers made post-season appearances in their first two seasons, and both quickly established themselves as big time playoff performers.

Perhaps my comparison is a bit strained. Pettitte is a big workhorse at 6'5" 235, Guidry was a slight 5'11" 162, athletic enough to be routinely used as a pinch runner and occassional centerfielder. Guidry was a classic fastball/slider guy, Pettitte has used an arsenal of fastballs and curveballs and cutters and sinkers. But at the time I began following the Yanks, though he was a shadow of his former self, Louisiana Lightning was the gold standard by which modern Yankee pitchers were judged. He was the Yankee Captain. He was the franchise's greatest pitcher since Whitey Ford. He was the man who turned in the historic 1978 season, who had the famous 18 strikeout game against the Angels, who picked up the win in the Bucky Dent game.

I guess what struck me as I drove to work Monday is that Pettitte's career, and even his Yankee career, has now lasted longer than Guidry's. Guidry seemed to me like an ancient relic of another time, the last link to Bronx Zoo years and the 1977-78 championship teams, when he announced his retirement in July 1989. Twenty years after that, Pettitte is the greatest Yankee starter since Ford, and sits in Guidry's company in several categories on the all-time Yankee leader board. And perhaps that says as much about me getting older as it does about Pettitte's career being older than I realized.

Andy Pettitte has had an underappreciated career. Beloved by the fan base but quiet and yeoman-like in his work, he's been perpetually overshadowed, whether it be by more colorful aces in David Cone and David Wells, the Legend of Roger Clemens, or high profile international free agents Orlando Hernandez and Hideki Irabu.

Four times in his Yankee career he's finished in the top six in Cy Young voting, yet his best finishes (2nd in '96 and 4th in '00) were built on the strength of his win totals, while his best Yankee seasons in terms of ERA+ were '97 (5th in voting) and '02 (DNF). While playing in Houston, his teammate Roger Clemens won the 2004 Cy Young and finished 8th in the MVP voting by going 18-4 with a 146 ERA+ and 1.16 WHIP. The next year Pettitte went 17-9 with a 177 ERA+ and 1.03 WHIP and finished 5th in the Cy Young and 24th in the MVP voting.

Pettitte has also been undervalued by the Yankees organization. As The Yankee Years detailed, he was nearly dealt at the 1999 trade deadline and departed as a free agent after the 2003 season when the Yankees mustered only a half-hearted effort to retain him. Even this past offseason, as the Yankees (rightly) took a hard line on their negotiations with Pettitte, the situation took on a slight air of inappreciativeness.

Pettitte has flirted with retirement in each of the last three offseasons. I imagine this year will bring much of the same. But my gut tells me this is Andy's last hurrah, so I'm going to try sit back and enjoy it as much as I can. I've never been particularly fond of pitchers, their occassional and often unpredictable playing making it difficult to grow attached to them. But if I can put aside strict statistical analysis for a moment, Pettitte is exactly the type of pitcher I love to watch: not necessarily dominant, but a guy who attacks hitters, doesn't nibble, doesn't pitch afraid, doesn't complain, and one who seemingly always takes the ball, always answers the bell, and has a knack for coming up big on the big stage. He's had his rough patches this year and has been vocal in his criticism of the new Stadium. But he's also been on a tear since the All-Star break, outdueling the League's best pitcher last night and posting a 2.36 ERA, 1.01 WHIP, and 29:7 K:BB over 26.2 IP in his last four starts. That's vintage Pettitte, and given Joba's inning limit and the fifth starter situation that sort of performance from Pettitte will be much needed down the stretch.

1996 World Series: My Look Back

As I mentioned in my Dave Winfield post a couple weeks back, I began following the Yankees closely in 1988. In many ways, it was a watershed season for the Yankees. It was the last of Billy Martin's five tours of duty as Yankee manager and the last time Lou Piniella appeared in a Yankee uniform. It was the swan song for co-captains and longtime Yankees Ron Guidry and Willie Randolph - the last two connections to the glory years of the late 70s and early 80s, and essentially the last hurrah for Winfield as well. It was also Rickey Henderson's final full season in pinstripes.

Don Mattingly had another very good year, but it wasn't quite as good as the lofty standards he had set from 1984-87, and he failed to finish in the top ten in MVP voting for the first time since his rookie year. He would be productive again in 1989, but only show flashes of his former brilliance thereafter.

In the broadcast booth, Bill White was calling his 18th and final season of Yankee baseball with Phil Rizzuto on WPIX, leaving after the season to become President of the National League. On the cable side, it was the Yankees' final season on SportsChannel before moving to MSG Network the following year and ushering in a new era for baseball TV contracts.

On June 13, 1988, the Yankees were 39-21, playing .650 ball and leading the AL East by 3 games. They went 46-55 the rest of the way, finishing at 85-76, only 3.5 games out of first but fifth in the seven team division. For the next several years, that would be the highwater mark of my Yankee fandom, at a time when to me Yankee baseball was most important thing on the face of the planet.

1989 started a string of four consecutive losing seasons for the Yanks, lowlighted by an American League worst 67-95 (.414) season in 1990, the Yankees fifth worst winning percentage in their history and the worst since 1913. The only MLB team worse that year was the Braves at 65-97.

As I touched in the Game 6 recap, things began to change in 1993. General Manager Gene Michael and manager Buck Showalter had changed the culture of the team, bringing in character veterans like Key, O'Neill, Boggs, Mike Stanley, and Mike Gallego and fostering the development of young talent like Bernie Williams, Jim Leyritz, Sterling Hitchcock, and Bob Wickman.

The 1993 team spent a record 21 days tied for first place without ever being able to get ahead of the mighty Blue Jays. In the last season of the two division format, the Yankees finished with the third best record in the league, but were left to watch the postseason on TV.

In 1994 the Yankees were 70-43 with the best record in the AL and second best in baseball when the strike hit and Bud Selig and the recently retired Donald Fehr elected to leave the biggest black mark on the game's history since the Black Sox Scandal.

In 1995 the Yankees won the innaugural Wild Card and jumped out to a commanding 2-0 lead over Seattle in the best of five ALDS. They then lost three straight in Seattle, Games 4 and 5 in heartbreaking fashion.

That offseason the team changed drastically: Showalter and Michael were gone. Mattingly left the game, holding off on official retirement for a year. Stanley was traded to the Rockies. They were replaced by Joe Torre, Bob Watson, Tino Martinez, and Joe Girardi. The roster was peppered with young unproven players like Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, and Andy Pettitte. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this new guard.

But as the 1996 season unfolded, it became apparent that there was something special about the team. By the time the World Series rolled around I had just turned 16. While my suffering certainly wasn't as bad as what fans of other teams have had to endure, I was elated to see my favorite team in the World Series for the first time in my conscious memory. After a rain delay pushed Game 1 back a day, the first two games amounted to a beatdown and stomach punch. Suddenly the luster of just being there had worn off. But the Series was about to change, for the Yankees and for me.

On the morning of Game 3, Tuesday October 22nd, I boarded a plane for Washington, D.C. A teacher had nominated me to attend a leadership conference and my parents were insistent that I go. I was less than enthused about it to begin with, but now, as it interfered with my watching of the Yankees in the World Series, I was postively pissed about it.

Seeing as the conference entailed taking two hundred some horny teenagers and boarding them together for five nights, the organizers figured it best to have every moment of every day planned from roughly 7 AM to 10 PM, so as not to allow any time for extracurriculars. It didn't leave much time for watching baseball either. My memories of Games 3 through 5 are sketchy at best. I was able to catch a bit of the late innings. I remember the Boggs walk. I remember the dramatic catches by Tim Raines and Paul O'Neill to end Games 4 and 5, O'Neill screaming and slapping his hand against the fence in right-center, as his torn hamstring just barely held up. But I missed all of Game 3. I missed the Leyritz home run. My team was charging like a freight train and after waiting nine years for it, I couldn't even enjoy it.

Game 6 fell on Saturday night, my final night in D.C. I phoned my parents numerous times that day, making sure the VCR would be running. Meanwhile, the conference bussed us all off to some hotel in D.C. for a farewell dance. I kept sneaking out. I saw the Girardi triple while hanging out in the hotel bar. The chaperones came and pulled me out of there, but I snuck off again. I found the hotel's weight room. The door was locked, but miraculously the TV was on and it was showing the game. I stood there, peering through the window. I saw Grissom get thrown out at second and Cox get tossed. Shortly thereafter, the power to the weight room went out. As I wandered the hotel searching for another TV, I began considering taking to the streets of D.C., trying to find a bar or someplace where I could watch the game.

It wasn't to be. The pesky chaperones hunted me down again, and this time I was a marked man. Like a prisoner on suicide watch, I was brought back to the dance and placed under constant surveillance. There were no radios there, no TVs, and cell phones had yet to proliferate the earth. I was stranded.

Later in the evening, as Billy Idol's version of "Mony, Mony" played, the DJ dropped the volume and got on the mic. "I have some bad news," he announced, "The Yankees have just won the World Series". I erupted. I don't remember the specifics, but I know that I and a few less dedicated Yankee fans I had befriended over the week spent some time high fiving and yelling and such. To this day I can't hear that song without thinking of that moment. But it was odd, and in some ways sad. It was killing me not to watch; I should have home witnessing it with my father.

I watched the tape as soon as I got home, but it was anticlimactic. In a well-intentioned effort to better me, my parents and former teacher had robbed me of something far more valuable: seeing the Yankees win their first World Series in my lifetime. I was fortunate that just two years later, as I shipped off to college, the Yankees started a run of three consecutive championships, so that helped ease the pain. But they say you never forget your first, unless of course you never remembered it in the first place. To this day the Yankees have never won the World Series with me in my home state of CT. So if any of you would like to take up a collection to set me up with a nice place in Manhattan, let me know.

Tonight on YES

Almost to a fault, the Yankees celebrate their history more than any other organization in MLB, if not all of sports. But they do so with good reason, no other sports franchise has as much history to celebrate. One of the best ways that the Yankees celebrate their past is through the Yankeeography series on YES. And tonight, they debut a new Yankeeography that I am very much looking forward to.

As I imagine most of you were, I was raised to be a Yankee fan. I have a picture of Mickey Mantle holding me as a baby. I have a picture of me as a toddler just a few years later, standing next Joe DiMaggio; the Yankee Clipper being either too old or dignified to pick me up. I can recall dressing myself as young child in a "Billy's Back" t-shirt, celebrating Billy Martin's return as Yankees manager for the 1983 season.

But my favorite Yankee as a youngster was Dave Winfield. I'm not entirely sure why. Before I really started following the Yankees, and probably shortly before he took me to my first game, I remember asking my father who the players were on the Yankees. He rattled off some names, most likely Don Mattingly and Ron Guidry and Dave Righetti and Willie Randolph, and maybe even Rickey Henderson. But the name I latched onto was Dave Winfield. Or as my little 3 or 4 year old ears heard it "Wind Field". It was easy to remember; they were words that I knew. Of the many souveniers I weaseled out of my father at that first game, one was a large Dave Winfield button that I must still have kicking around somewhere.

By the time I began following baseball in earnest in 1988, Winfield's Yankee career was closing out. I won't spoil the Yankeeography for you, but let's just say things had gone south between Winnie and Big Stein. Winfield still had one of his best seasons that year, turning in the top OBP of his career, second best OPS, OPS+, and AVG of his career and his third best SLG at the age of 36. He would finish 4th in the AL MVP voting, but a back injury suffered late in the season required surgery and cost him the entirety of the 1989 season.

He would return briefly at the start of the disastrous 1990 season, but too much bad blood existed between Steinbrenner and him. The crowded Yankee outfield provided the perfect excuse to send him to the Angels for the immortal Mike Witt. Winfield would remain productive for another 4 seasons and finally win a World Series with the 1992 Blue Jays. Mike Witt would start 27 games over 4 seasons for the Yankees, post a 4.91 ERA, and earn more than $7.5M for it. He was Carl Pavano before Carl Pavano was.

During the 1980s the Yankees had the winningest record in baseball and had but one pennant to show for it, despite having rosters featuring Winfield, Mattingly, Henderson, Guidry, Righetti, and Randolph. They consistently had good teams, but never great teams, and the instability and insanity of the Front Office couldn't have helped matters at all. Still in his eight full seasons in pinstripes, Winfield hit .291/.357/.497 (135 OPS+) with 203 HRs, many of them screaming line drives that just cleared the fences. He made 8 All-Star teams, won 5 Gold Gloves, 5 Silver Sluggers, and had 4 top ten MVP finishes.

Winfield was elected to the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility in January 2001. He had spent nearly equal time with the Padres and Yankees and rumor had it he was going to enter the Hall as a Yankee. Fueling the fire, during Spring Training Glenallen Hill switched from Winfield's #31, which he had worn the year before, to #25, causing speculation that Winfield's number would be retired as part of the process. Instead, Winfield took a sweetheart deal from the Padres, much like the one the Yankees had given Reggie Jackson eight years earlier, and became the first man enshrined in the Hall of Fame as a San Diego Padre.

Winfield has been welcomed back into the Yankee family more in recent years, appearing at Old Timers' Days, the closing of the old Yankee Stadium, and the opening of the new one. The team probably wishes they had him along in Cleveland a few weeks ago to help take care of the seagull problem as well. I'm looking forward to checking this one out tonight, but with it scheduled to air following a Yankee-Sox game it probably won't be on until about midnight.

Number of Days Until Spring Training: Thurman Munson (#15)

Thurman Munson was the embodiment of the core values of a Yankee catcher. He was pugnacious, rugged, could hit and play great defense, had a mean-ass mustache, and hated the Red Sox. Boy, did he hate the Red Sox. I'd like to think that if he was alive today, old Squatty Body would have rather liked the name of this blog.

The above sequence is from a game at Fenway, on August 1st, 1973. Stick Michael was up to bat in the top of the 9th with the score tied, and failed to make contact on a suicide squeeze, unleashing Munson down the third baseline towards Sox catcher Carlton Fisk. Munson led with a left forearm and Pudge went low, sending the two tumbling over home plate. Fisk held onto the ball, Munson was out, and they quickly got to their feet and began exchanging blows.


Perhaps the seeds of Munson's hatred of Boston were planted, like mine, in the time he spent there as a young man. In the summer of 1967, Joe "Skippy" Lewis, manager of the Chatham A's of the Cape Cod Baseball League offered Munson a spot as their starting catcher, along with a side job with the Chatham Parks Department for $75 a week. In 39 games that summer, Munson hit .420 as a catcher, .65 higher than any other other player in the league, regardless of position. He was named MVP of the CCBL and the award for the batting title each year is named in his honor.

It was during his time on the Cape that he was discovered by the Yankees. They selected him with the fourth overall pick in the 1968 Amateur Draft, gave him a $75,000 signing bonus and a $500 a week salary.

Munson made his debut in 1969 but appeared in only 26 games. In 1970, he won Rookie of the Year, netting 96% of the vote after batting .302/.386/.415. While remaining solid behind the plate, Munson had two years in 1971 & '72 where he was above league average, but unspectacular offensively.

Although it was not recognized as such by the MVP voting, 1973 was Munson's finest year behind the plate. He raked 29 doubles, 20 homers and hit .301/.362/.487, good for a 141 OPS+. '73 also began Thurm's three year Gold Glove and six year All-Star appearance streaks. In each of those six years, Munson placed in the MVP voting and played 144 games or more behind the plate.

He was named Yankee captain in 1975, claiming a post that Lou Gehrig vacated with his farewell speech in 1939. In 1976, Munson clocked 17 homers, 27 doubles, drove in 105 runs and was rewarded with the AL MVP, receiving 18 out of a possible 24 first place votes. A testament to his hard-headed, competitive nature, that year he stole 14 bases, but was caught 11 times. In fact, over his career, he was actually caught more than he was successful, stealing only 48 bases in 98 tries.

Munson was behind the plate for Ron Guidry's legendary 1978 season, where he went 25-3 with a 1.74ERA. Guidry later said about Munson, "I went through the whole year never shaking him off one time. He always knew when to say something, and when to shut up."

Munson had three children who lived with his wife in Canton, Ohio, where he grew up. He often grew homesick and decided to take flying lessons to make it easier to commute back and forth to see his family. On August 2nd, 1979, he was practicing take-offs and landings at Akron-Canton Regional Airport, when he met his end.

On the approach to the runway, Munson dropped the flaps, but waited too long before giving the plane more power, which resulted in the Cessna Citation I/SP coming up well short of the intended target. Munson had failed to fasten his shoulder strap, was paralyzed during the initial impact and trapped inside the cockpit when the plane finally came to a rest after rolling and sliding for over 500 feet. His flight instructor, David Hall and his friend Kenny Anderson attempted to free Munson, but the plane caught on fire and they were forced to retreat. His last words were "Get me out of here! Please get me out!" A tragic and powerless cry for help, that in no way reflected the way he lived. He was 32 years old.

When someone dies young, they are enshrined in our minds in their youth. There is a different legacy left than when we watch a person decline with age, grow frail and forget people's names. We see the sad portrayal of modern day Muhammad Ali, but only remember the dynamic vibrance of a prime Jimi Hendrix.

Munson's number was retired immediately after his death and an empty locker with the number 15 was kept in the Yankees Clubhouse through the closing of the Old Stadium. Written by George Steinbrenner, his plaque in Monument Park reads:

Our captain and leader has not left us, today, tomorrow, this year, next ... Our endeavors will reflect our love and admiration for him.

Like Don Mattingly, the brevity of Munson's career will keep him out of the Hall of Fame, but that doesn't matter to Yankees fans, who have their own Hall of Fame in left field.