Last night, I spent three hours watching a 50-year-old baseball game even though I knew how it would end. I watched as if it were being played live because, even though it was a game I'll never forget, it was a game I'd never seen before except for the final pitch.
On October 13, 1960, I was in the third grade at Saint Joan of Arc School in Jackson Heights, New York. I was in Sister Saint Catherine's class. Sister Saint Catherine was tough. She thought our education was somehow more important than the seventh game of the World Series. While kids in other classes were listening to Mel Allen broadcast the game, we were listening to Sister Saint Catherine explain the suffering of the martyred missionaries who'd come to America to win souls for Jesus.
We didn't have televisions in the classrooms at Saint Joan's. Some kids would sneak in a transistor radio to listen to the World Series back before baseball's biggest games were played in the dark. Frankie Giannone brought his Japanese pocket radio to class and he kept us all informed of the score while we pretended to be paying attention to Sister St. Catherine.
We'd only begun the afternoon lesson when Frankie informed us that the Pirates had taken a 2-0 lead in the first inning on a home run by Rocky Nelson. The news didn't bother us. It was only the first inning. There would be plenty of time for a Yankee comeback, we thought.
Our early optimism faded somewhat in the next inning when Giannone announced that the Bucs had scored another two runs as starting pitcher Bob Turley was removed for Bill Stafford. The young Stafford quickly gave way to little Bobby Shantz, a 5'6" righty who would silence the Pirate bats for much of the afternoon.
Sitting in the back of the classroom with a tiny earpiece hidden from Sister Saint Catherine, Frankie kept us informed of the game's big plays. When Moose Skowron led off the Yankees fifth with a home run, we all knew something good had happened even before Frankie could relay the news. The shouts coming from the other classrooms told us something good had happened. Skowron's solo homer closed the gap to 4-1 and we knew the Yankees would come back.
It was in the sixth inning, as Sister was drilling us on the multiplication tables, that the Yankees staged an heroic comeback. Second baseman Bobby Richardson began the comeback with a single. Shortstop Tony Kubek followed with a walk to bring up the mighty Roger Maris. The following season, Maris would erase Babe Ruth's record 60-home run season, but on this day in Pittsburgh, he lofted a lazy pop-up to third.
With one out, Mickey Mantle revived the Yankees' hopes with a single to right, scoring Richardson with New York's second run. With runners on the corners, Yogi Berra ripped a three-run homer to right field to give the Yanks a 5-4 lead. Cheers erupted throughout the school, except in Sister Saint Catherine's classroom.
Little Bobby Shantz continued to frustrate the Pirate hitters through the sixth inning. In the seventh, Shantz began to tire and the Bucs began to mount a rally before Shantz got Bill Mazeroski to hit into an inning-ending double play.
By the time the Yanks came up in the eighth, the school day was nearly over. As some of the boys were erasing the blackboard, the Yanks added two more runs on a walk to Berra, singles from Skowron and catcher Johnny Blanchard and a run-scoring double by Tony Kubek. The Pirates trailed 7-4 as they came to bat in the eighth.
As always, Sister Saint Catherine led her students in prayer as we waited for the school bell to ring dismissal. During the Hail Marys, the Pirates rallied.
Pinch hitter Gino Cimolli opened the eighth with a single. Next, Bob Virdon lined a hard shot to short. What should have been a double play ball took a bad hop at the last second and struck Kubek in the throat. Kubek had to leave the game and was replaced by Joe DeMaestri.
The next Pirate hitter, shortstop Dick Groat, singled to left to score Cimolli. Casey Stengel came out and replaced Shantz with Jim Coates. The Old Professer had Whitey Ford, the greatest World Series pitcher in history, warming up in the bullpen. But Ford had pitched a complete game shutout the day before, so Stengel went with Coates.
Coates was able to get Rocky Nelson to fly out to right for the second out. Clementa was coming up to bat as we gathered up our books to march out of school. Clemente hit a soft grounder to first that Skowron fielded, but Coates was slow getting over to cover the bag and Clemente beat out a single to drive in a run and keep the inning alive.
As we were walking down the stairs, Frankie removed the earphone so we could all hear the game. Just as he did, Hal Smith launched a Coates pitch into the stands for a three-run home run. The Pirates took an 8-7 lead, prompting one of our classmates to utter a word seldom heard in the hallowed halls of Saint Joan's.
Sister heard the offensive word as she was leading the class down the stairs. There in the stairwell, she brought our march to freedom to an immediate halt. We would leave, she told us, when the offender stepped forward to receive his just punishment. The seconds went by like hours as Sister stood down her terrified charges.
Stengel replaced Coates with Ralph Terry, who got the last out in the eighth. The standoff continued as the Yanks came to bat in the ninth, needing two runs to tie. Frankie hid the radio in his jacket pocket and tried to hear the play-by-play as Sister Saint Catherine lectured the class on the evils of curse words.
Finally, as Richardson opened with another single, Tommy Kern stepped up to take the fall. Tommy was always a stand-up guy, but never more than that late afternoon. Tommy was sent back to the classroom while the rest of us resumed our march up 82nd Street where we would be set free.
As we walked up the block, Dale Long hit a pinch hit single. Maris again popped out and Mantle followed with an RBI single. Yogi Berra hit a line shot to first that allowed the tying run to score as Mantle dove to avoid a tag that would have ended the game.
Sister Saint Catherine set us free as the top of the ninth came to an end. It was tied 9-9 in the ninth with the Pirates coming to bat.
It was at the corner of 82nd Street and 35th Ave. that I had to make a choice. I could stand with Frankie at the bus stop and listen to his pocket radio, or I could run to find the nearest TV set to see the end of the game.
I decided to make a run for it. I could have run the four blocks to my home, but the game could be over by the time I made it up to our third floor apartment. I decided instead to run down 82nd. Street to 37th Ave. I knew that Davega's appliance store on 81st Street would have the game on a set in the store window. I raced down 82nd Street, crowded with school kids and their mothers, shoppers and people coming and going to work.
I reached Davega's window just in time to see Ralph Terry's second pitch to Mazeroski. The second baseman swung, and lifted a high fly ball to left field. I watched in horror as Yogi Berra turned his back to home plate and watched as the ball cleared the fence. In that moment, it was over. The Pirates had won the World Series. I stood a moment frozen, unable to move, as the Pirates and their fans mobbed Mazeroski at home plate.
In that moment, my eight-year-old heart was broken. Summer had ended and with one swing of the bat, Bill Mazeroski had brought winter to New York City.
Fifty years later, I have not forgotten that moment, that home run that changed my eight-year-old world. But until last night, I'd never had the chance to see that game in its entirety.
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