October Classic
Sat., October 29, 11:00 AM
It’s what CBS calls an almanac item, so “CBS Sunday Morning” ran a piece about October 5, 1955, fifty years ago. It seems a little late, but the October Classic ran earlier in October fifty years ago. There were only eight teams in each league – no divisions, no wild card teams, no divisional playoffs. I’m not surprised that I remember, only that I remember as much detail as I do.
In 1955 I had been a fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers for six years, and had been humiliated most of that time. My brother rooted for the New York Yankees, who won the World Series almost every year; even when the Dodgers actually got into the Series, the Yankees would beat them, and my brother would laugh at me again.
The Dodgers and the Yankees were playing the final game – on a school day. Stay home? Forget it. I don’t think even my brother would have been allowed to skip school for baseball, and as far as a girl was concerned…
I rushed home from school to find that my mother had put the television on for me. (TV sets took a while to warm up in those days.) The game was half over, but I sat down to enjoy the rest. No, I can’t repeat the play by play, or even give you full rosters. (Roger Kahn’s affectionate The Boys of Summer is the best description of the team.) What I remember is the end. The Dodgers were ahead in the ninth inning, but I don’t recall believing it could really happen. I remember watching that last weak hit and the out at first base, and I remember saying, in disbelief, they won!, even before Vin Scully made the formal announcement: “Ladies and gentle, the Brooklyn Dodgers have won the World Series.”
It was the first time in history our Dodgers had won it all. It would never quite happen that way again. Never again would they be the laughingstock of major league baseball. In a year or two they would desert Brooklyn for the west coast.
I continued to follow them – even root for them – but it wasn’t the same. The closest thing that resembled the adoration for the Brooklyn team was the New York Mets. Despite their charm, they were the worst team that ever played major league baseball. Men would walk on the moon before the Mets would manage to win a World Series. Gil Hodges, who had played first base for the old Dodgers, was the manager of the champion Mets. Some things are meant to be. (1969 was also the year that Perpetual Loser Richard Nixon was inaugurated president, among other unbelievable events, including the birth of my first child – something else no one ever thought would happen. Note, however, that the world did not come to an end.)
So, anyhow, while I was writing this, the Chicago White Sox took the World Series – which I did not watch at all. Forty-six years ago the White Sox were in the Series, and the Dodgers beat ’em; no Sandy Koufax this year. Ahem. No fan of the Mets could ever wish for an Astros win, however.
Gee, I miss baseball the way it used to be. The only way I can get into it now is via the history.
