Tipping Pitches Classics

Here at Tipping Pitches, we look to baseball for a comforting rhythm. It’s the salve from a winter full of anxiety, the constant through hectic summers. Though it is low on the actual list of important things affected by COVID-19, the postponement of Major League Baseball’s season has underscored the ominous national mood in a particularly resonant way for us.

So, while the absence of the 2020 baseball season leaves a cavernous void, we’ll be filling it with a (hopefully short) list of MLB classics — whether that be iconic games we’ve never watched, nostalgic games we don’t always have time to transport back to, or a just plain exhilarating nine innings. Every Monday on the podcast we’ll talk about what stuck out to us as different, how we would react to each game in today’s parlance, fun quirks we noticed, and how we can use the past to better appreciate today’s games.

We’ll update this list as we choose a new game each week. All games will be available via YouTube (primarily through MLB Vault, which is a treasure trove, by the way). We hope you’ll watch along with us before each week’s episode, and maybe even reach out to tell us what game you’d love us to watch and why. Until Opening Day  ⚾

Coming April 20.

As we start to talk about Game 5 of the 2015 ALDS between the Texas Rangers and the Toronto Blue Jays, I want you to keep one concept in your mind: the moments before the moment.

We all know where this game is heading, and we all know the fallout from it. But as we talk about the game as a whole, I want you to pay close attention to the very specific sequencing that led up to the moment that inspired us to pick this game. Because what makes a baseball game great and also crushing isn’t necessarily a strikeout to win Game 7 of the World Series — it’s the warning track fly ball from the batter before that gave each team’s fan base a heart attack for polar opposite reasons. It’s not the ground ball up the first base line that scores the winning run, it’s the series of bloop singles that, if the temperature or the wind or the composition of the maple in the bat was slightly different, never would’ve made it to the outfield. It’s not the towering home run, it’s the series of errors that will never let you forget the home run could’ve been avoided.

At the risk of overstating things, it’s kind of profound to me what a difference four years makes. On the hill we have Long Island legend Marcus Stroman vs. Cole Hamels, and it’s pretty unanimously agreed upon that that favors the Rangers. There’s a definite intangible quality bursting through the screen as soon as you see Hamels on it.

The Rangers had won 11 straight games in which he started since acquiring him at the trade deadline that year from the Phillies, and in this game Cole is still sitting 95 with pinpoint precision. It’s not like he was a Cy Young candidate or anything, but he threw 212 innings to the tune of a 110 ERA+ with about a strikeout per nine for the Phillies and Rangers that year.

Meanwhile, Stroman was only in Year 2, which was really more like Year 1.15 because he tore his ACL in spring training in 2015 and only made 4 starts in the regular season (4 wins, by the way, with only five earned runs). Stroman tore his ACL on March 10, tweeted “The return will be legendary” on March 12, made his 2015 debut on September 12, and…on October 14…was on the bump to try and send the Blue Jays to their first ALCS since 1993. Marcus Stroman, ladies and gentlemen.

Let’s go to the top of the first where Delino Deshields is leading off for the Rangers — Delino “First Team All-MLB The Show Franchise Mode Prospect” Deshields. By year 3 of every franchise mode I ever played in MLB The Show 2015 (I think my most played video game of all time), Delino Deshields was a 40/20 guy with a .400 OBP. I know as well as anyone that The Show is not real life (even though it’s the closest thing we have to real baseball right now) but I’ll never understand what happened to him.

Deshields doubles, Shin Soo-Choo hits into a fielder’s choice, Prince Fielder (hold your tears, please) hits into another fielder’s choice, and Deshields scores to gives the Rangers an early lead.

The Jays go quietly in the first, as do the Rangers in the top of the second, thanks to a Josh Hamilton walk and a failed sac bunt attempt from Elvis Andrus. We picked a game in 2015 to try and AVOID this dumb regressive baseball, yet still we’re trying to sac bunt in the second inning of a DS clinching game against a team that can easily hang 10 runs on you.

We’re about 800 words into this summary and still haven’t mentioned the crowd, which is maybe a disservice to the Toronto fans but also maybe just me trying to keep my powder dry for all my thoughts about Toronto fans that will come in the 7th inning. But I do have to mention that in the Top of the second, Stroman gets his first strikeout of the game and the crowd erupts as if Joe Carter had just walked out to the mound to throw out the first pitch.

The Rangers tack on another run in the third courtesy of a Shin Soo-Choo solo shot against one of the only four seam fastballs Stroman really threw in this game. The Jays answer back in the bottom of the third with a Jose Bautista double off the wall that scores the aforementioned Revere. Both starters are kind of cruising at this point, and though they’re not perfect, Stroman’s stuff is on full display and Cole Hamels is rope-a-doping the Blue Jays potent offense into a lot of weak contact and some uncharacteristic strikeouts where they’re caught looking. 2015 Soon-To-Be-MVP Josh Donaldson hasn’t been able to tee up Hamels like he had in Game 2, and you’re starting to get the feeling that the Jays reliance on the home run just might’ve been subverted by a pitcher who has come up big in so many big moments.

I think we’ve put it off long enough. A genuinely relentless Jays offense has tied the game on an Edwin Encarnacion ABSOLUTE NO DOUBTER. Hamels, pitching next to perfectly, is now looking at a no-decision. Give an inch, take a mile, etc etc.

Let’s go to the 7th inning, where the broadcast opens up on a shot of Jays fans returning to their seat, beers in hands. How fitting. Remember what I said about paying attention to the moments before the moments? Here we go.

Stroman, pitch count climbing in only his 6th appearance of 2015, can’t go any longer. In comes the hard throwing Aaron Sanchez out of the bullpen to face 8-9-1 in the Rangers lineup. Odor singles to left on a straight four seamer. Rangers catcher Chris Gimenez sac bunts Odor over to second. Side note: Kenny Albert goes to a live read for Amazon Web Series…a fun game to play with any sports broadcast after like, 2011, is “how long before someone says the name Amazon?”

Deshields grounds out weakly to left, where Donaldson has to charge to make a stellar play to get the out. But Odor advances to third behind him. Shin Soo Choo steps into the box and that’s when we cease watching a Major League Baseball game and start watching a neighborhood wiffle ball game.

Choo fouls the first pitch off, takes the second for a ball, then fouls off the third. Sanchez, a power pitcher getting a boost out of the pen, has him exactly where he wants him. He’s going to waste one high and try to get Choo to chase. Choo doesn’t budge. Count even. But as Jays catcher and former Gold Glove winner Russell Martin goes to throw the ball back, it ricochets off the bat off Choo and squirts away into foul territory down the third base line. Odor, not entirely sure of what was going on, decided that he saw a live ball and would sprint for home. He crosses home AS THE HOME PLATE UMP is waving the ball dead, and now we’re in the very unique hell that is everyone arguing about a rule they’re not sure they understand.

This moment is almost too bizarre for the written word, so here’s our conversation of it on the podcast:

Okay, bottom 7. Russell Martin, the current goat, hits a routine grounder up the middle to Elvis Andrus, who boots it about as bad as a Major League shortstop is ever going to boot an easy ground ball. Kevin Pillar steps into the plate, with Harold Reynolds absolutely THIRSTING over him on the broadcast.

He hits a weak grounder to first base, where Rangers first baseman Mitch Moreland fields it cleanly. He goes to second to get Martin, the lead runner, but absolutely shanks the throw, spiking it into the ground. Everyone is safe. 9-hitter Ryan Goins steps into the box with nothing but sac bunt on his mind. He gets the bunt down, Adrian Beltre fields it cleanly, turns to third to try to nail Martin as the lead runner AGAIN, fires a perfect throw to Andrus, covering, who just flat out drops out. It hit him right in the glove, and he dropped it.

Now, with the bases loaded, no outs, 3-2 Rangers, leadoff hitter Ben Revere grounds into a fielder’s choice. They finally roll the rock up the mountain and it sticks: Martin is out at the lead runner.

Keep in mind, Cole Hamels is still in through all of this. He hasn’t done anything wrong! The ball hasn’t left the infield! He’s now relieved by Sam Dyson (one of the best relievers in baseball in 2015). Donaldson steps to the plate and hits the weakest, seeing eye, bloop single over Rougned Odor’s head (which he should’ve caught but he read the spin off the bat wrong). Ben Revere, thinking Odor was going to catch and he’d have to tag, is thrown out at second base as Kevin Pillar comes in to score and tie the game.

So, let’s get this straight now: we have Goins on third, Donaldson on first. Tie game 3-3. In steps Jose Bautista.

TRT, total run time for this inning: 53 MINUTES.

That’s the end of the scoring for the game, so let’s tie up some loose ends.

Aaron Sanchez comes back out for the 8th, gets one out but puts two on, and in comes rookie reliever Roberto Osuna. He strikes out Josh Hamilton and Elvis Andrus, both swinging, to keep the Jays lead at 6-3. The Jays do nothing in the bottom of the 8th, and then in the top of the 9th, to send the Jays to their first ALCS since ‘93, Osuna gets Odor to line out, before overpowering Mike Napoli and Will Venable to get back to back strikeouts and end the game.

Who the hell am I to introduce this game? When in real life, the greatest of all time Vin Scully did it?

Let me start with the full disclosure thing that writers do, but don’t really always need to do because who’s coming to a blog for objective opinion? Game 6 of the 1986 World Series is the greatest baseball moment I’ve ever lived vicariously. It’s the most profoundly improbable collection of innings ever strung together by men in Mets uniforms. And devoid of context 34 years after it took place, it’s nearly impossible to trust that the Mets find a way to win this game. But, of course they win. They had to win, even more than the Red Sox had to lose. A lot of people’s asses were on the line if this rambunctious, criminal(???), cocky ‘86 Mets team didn’t win the World Series.

Let’s flash back to even before the first pitch. After Scully’s introduction to the broadcast, he throws to a dugout interview with Mets manager Davey Johnson, who looks as slick and confident as ever…a shocking accomplishment given the Mets are down 3-2 in the series and about to face TWENTY FOUR GAME WINNER Roger Clemens (who, you know, if we can jump to the present, broke out that year for a 2.81 ERA to lead the AL, and 238 K’s to go along with it. And, while we’re still here in the present, is career 354 game winner Roger Fucking Clemens). Johnson has confidence in his Game 6 starter, Bobby Ojeda, who was 18-3 that year with a 2.57 ERA as the Mets’ either second or third starter behind Doc Gooden and Ron Darling.

Wade Boggs (he’s back! would you look at that!) steps into the box hitting leadoff for the Red Sox. ‘86 seems like a more reasonable year for him to me. Again, this is a flaw in my historical baseball knowledge. He flies out to get Ojeda’s night rolling and brings up second baseman Marty Barrett. As Ojeda gets the ball back after throwing a first-pitch ball to Barrett, a man with a parachute and a sign that reads “Go Mets” comes cascading down in the outfield. My guy! A parachuter, in the first inning! The Sox tag Ojeda for a run in the first inning, but he’s able to stop the damage and turn it over to a legitimately stacked Mets lineup that did very little for the first 9 innings of this game.

Sidebar: in the first inning, Lenny Dykstra leads off for the Mets. To Vin Scully announcing, and I have to assume to the larger baseball world, Lenny Dykstra is “a threat to bunt,” as is 2-hitter Wally Backman. Now imagine you’re watching the 2017 World Series and George Springer and Jose Altuve come up to kick off the Astros lineup and Joe Buck says, “Wow, Tim, you gotta think these guys are a threat to bunt here.” Strategy was a tire fire in the ‘80s. More on strategy later.

For the first six innings of Game 6 of the ‘86 World Series, things were pretty normal. As normal as they can be with a generational ace flashing his good stuff in the World Series in front of 55,078 fans in Shea Stadium (RIP Shea). There are a few perfectly executed hit and runs, there are more errors than you’d expect from these two teams, there are sac bunts and intentional walks and Marlboro ads in the outfield — it feels like 1986. But come inning 7, things start to get weird.

Reliable Mets third baseman Ray Knight makes a throwing error on a routine ground ball from Red Sox right fielder Dwight Evans. The Sox had a runner on second, who advanced to third on the error and was singled in one batter later by Red Sox center field Dave Henderson. Mookie Wilson has an outfield assist to keep the score 3-2 heading into the bottom of the 7th.

Nothing doing in the bottom of the 7th for the Mets, or the top of the 8th for the Red Sox for that matter. But in the bottom of the 8th, we have a sequence almost as quintessentially 80s as the Top Gun mustaches ⅔ of the players in this game are sporting. Mets utility man Lee Mazzilli gets a pinch hit, leadoff single to start the inning. Dykstra sacrifice bunts and Red Sox pitcher Calvin Schiraldi (who relieved Clemens to start the 8th inning) fields it and guns it to second. But his throw skips and gets away from Red Sox SS Spike Owen. Then, Wally Backman lays down ANOTHER sac bunt (and they say baseball used to be more exciting…they’re right, by the way), to make it second and third with one out for Keith Hernandez. The Sox walk Keith, bringing up Gary Carter (RIP), who does his goddamn job like a good 80s baseball player should and hits a sac fly to left to tie the game. Carter led all of baseball with 15 sac flies during the season. SMALL. BALL.

Let’s skip the 9th altogether for the sake of time. we could spend a lot of time talking about how Vin crucifies Davey Johnson for not sac bunting with Howard Johnson when they had a man on first base in the bottom of the 9th of an elimination game in the World Series. On to the 10th, with Rick Aguilera, who came on in the ninth in relief of Roger McDowell, still on the hill for the Mets.

It’s an unmitigated disaster.

Aguilera gets behind 1-0 and then grooves a fastball that Dave Henderson lines over the left field wall to put the Sox up 4-3. He strikes out Spike Owen and Calvin Schiraldi (YES, THE FUCKING RELIEF PITCHER HITTING FOR HIMSELF IN THE 10TH INNING OF A WORLD SERIES CLINCHING GAME), Wade Boggs doubles, Marty Barrett singles, and suddenly the Red Sox are up 5-3. Aguilera stops the bleeding but is clearly beside himself as he heads back to the dugout to join his team, their backs pinned to the wall.

Here’s the thing about the bottom of the 10th inning of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series between the New York Mets and the Boston Red Sox: taken with everything I know, as a fan of the team, to be true about the Metropolitans, it’s the biggest anomaly in the history of baseball.

If you’re going to get a rally started when you’re about to be eliminated at home in the World Series, 2-3-4 is exactly who you want due up. Especially when 2 is Wally Backman, who had and always would show a penchant for doing whatever the Mets needed any and every time. He hits a pedestrian fly ball to left.

Davey Johnson now looks inconsolable, and Scully is still crushing his decision not to sac bunt HoJo in the bottom of the 9th and potentially end it there. He looks, dare I say, like I looked watching Matt Harvey blow Game 5 of the 2015 World Series. Keith Hernandez is up next: Now, they brought Keith in specifically for this moment. He had won a title with St. Louis. He “knew how,” so to speak. What does he do? He flies out weakly to center. Even on a second watch, 34 years later, what happens next feels impossible. Vin Scully is handing out the fucking player of the game award to Marty Barrett!

Gary Carter, God rest his soul, singles to left to keep the Mets alive. Kevin Mitchell (built like a fire hydrant, more swagger than anyone on the Mets by far), pinch hits and singles to center. Ray Knight, potential goat for his error in the 7th, bloop singles to center just over the second baseman’s glove (who was playing up the middle). That scores Carter to cut the lead in half.

Mookie Wilson steps into the box. A lot of people remember how this at bat ended, but I’d venture to guess that not a lot remember how it started, or even what happened in between when he stepped into the box and when a dribbler off the end of his bat squirted into right field to keep the Mets’ season alive. Now facing Red Sox reliever Bob Stanley (poor Calvin Schiraldi — visibly sweating bullets, looking like me after I finally start doing cardio during this quarantine — has finally been pulled).

Mookie gets behind in the count 1-2, works it to 2-2, fouls off three straight fastballs up in the zone to avoid the season-ending strikeout. And then, as we enter the Twilight Zone, with the hysteria of 1986 Queens creeping onto the field like The Mist, Red Sox catcher Rich Gedman sets up low and outside. Bob Stanley throws low and very far inside. And the Mets salvation begins. Mitchell scores from third on the wild pitch, Knight advances to second as the winning run. And then Mookie, one of the only members of the ‘86 Mets you can truly root for in good conscience watching this game, hits a little roller down the first base line….behind the bag…and mercifully, just into right field to score Ray Knight.

If you gave me a full day to think about it — or hell, maybe a full week, a full month, or let’s just say a full couple months until the baseball season comes back — I don’t think I could concoct a formula that would make a baseball game feel more consequential to the history of the game than Game 5 of the 1995 ALDS between the Yankees and Mariners.

Now, I know what you’re saying. “It’s a Division Series. Neither team even went on to win the Championship Series, let alone the World Series.” You’re right. You’re completely right. But here’s what this game offers that no other baseball game you can watch will offer quite as well: a generational connection between two of the most important generations in baseball history.

In our last episode, we talked about Game 7 of the 1991 World Series — a 10 inning shutout from Hall of Famer Jack Morris that instantly went down in baseball lore as one of the most clutch, gutsy performances imaginable. That game’s cast of characters looks like a JV team compared to ‘95 ALDS’ varsity. In no particular order, here is the list of players that had an impact on the outcome of this game: Wade Boggs, Don Mattingly, Tino Martinez, Bernie Williams (my favorite Yankee of all time), a plucky 20-year-old named Alex Rodriguez (who came in to pinch run because Luis Sojo started at short), Mariano Rivera (who was just throwing darts, Musberger mentioned that Buck Showalter “showed a lot of confidence bringing him into this game at all”), the Big Ticket Randy Johnson, Ken Griffey Jr, and of course, last but not least, Edgar Martinez.

Plus, the guys who never made it into the game but were seen in the dugout or mentioned in passing: Derek Jeter, Andy Pettitte, Jorge Posada, and Daryl Strawberry. And even the goddamn managers, Buck Showalter (slow heart beat on that guy, lounging in the dugout like its an August game against the Orioles), and Lou Pinella.

By my quick count, that’s six Hall of Famers (Griffey, Edgar, Johnson, Boggs, Jeter, Mo) and two guys who’ve still got a shot depending on voters’ attitudes (A-Rod and Pettitte), plus two more guys that maybe didn’t get a long enough look (Bernie Williams and Don Mattingly).

Here’s everything you need to know about the events of the game: it’s Game 5, forced by a heroic Game 4 grand slam from Edgar Martinez (hitting *checks notes* .600 in the series with two home runs). The Yankees have David Cone on the bump, who, over the course of this game, I realized is one of the first modern pitchers. If you want to see the template for Lance McCullers, go watch David Cone. His fastball has zip, but is largely straight, so he uses it in conjunction with the tightest, sharpest slider you’ll ever see from a pitcher before 2000. The M’s have a dude I’ve never heard of (and maybe I’m dating myself here) in Andy Benes on the mound.

While Game 4 was a hitters’ delight, Game 5 is paced out. The Mariners strike first, then the Yankees get two, then the Mariners tie it. It’s a whole lot of pitchers teetering on the edge of getting knocked out, but hanging on to keep it under control — Cone strikes out guys to end the 4th, 6th, and 7th inning with men on base. But it really starts to heat up in the 8th, with the Yankees up 4-2 after they were able to string together a few hits off Mariners reliever Norm Charlton. The heart of the Mariners lineup is due up (a devastating back-to-back-to-back of Griffey, Martinez [Edgar] and Martinez [Tino] that would add Alex Rodriguez, perhaps the greatest hitter of all time, one year later). Griffey cuts the lead in half with an absolute moonshot that Yankees right fielder Paul O’Neill didn’t even move for (side note: Griffey, swing plane founding father?). Cone starts to run out of gas, putting multiple men on via walk, before walking in the tying run and kicking himself on the mound in truly crushing fashion. He was so locked in in this game that I actually found myself feeling bad…for a Yankees player…in the same game where they cut to flaming pile-of-dirt George Steinbrenner like 37 times.

We go to the 9th and, oh, did I forget to mention that when the Mariners started to run into trouble in the 8th they got RANDY JOHNSON up in the pen? He comes on in the 9th with ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ blaring, dodges some incredibly outdated sacrifice bunt attempts, and turns it over the Mariners lineup in the bottom of the 9th (who do nothing against the greatest relief pitcher of all time that no one knew yet…Mariano Rivera). On to the 10th, where Johnson strikes out the side and the Mariners knock out Rivera. They fail to score off former Cy Young Winner Jack McDowell in the bottom of the 10th though, and move on to the 11th, where a leadoff walk costs Johnson as a seeing-eye single scores a Yankees runner to make it 5-4 Yankees heading into the bottom of the 11th.

Here’s where it gets good: outdated contact 2-hitter Joey Cora lays down a kind-of-perfect drag punt to get on first base (and avoids Mattingly’s tag in controversial fashion. Was he out of the baseline? Probably. Was he an American hero for getting on base to beat the Yankees? Definitely). Griffey singles and Cora goes first to third, which brings up THE ABSOLUTE KING Edgar Martinez, who promptly and calmly smacks a double to the left field corner to score both Cora and Griffey and send the Mariners to the ALCS.

Running down a box score of everything that happens in this game may or may not make you want to watch it — it may not even sound like that much — but what should make you want to watch this is baseball history happening in real time. We get good baseball games as often as once a week during the regular season. Gerrit Cole goes 8 and strikes out 10 while the Astros paste the Rangers. Bryce Harper hits one to Jupiter to walk off in the thin air of a Philadelphia night. Jacob DeGrom outduels Max Scherzer on Opening Day to give Mets fans hope before it inevitably comes crumbling down months later. But what we don’t get every day is a generational Venn diagram as poignant and satisfying as this game.

The old Yankee lineup, still potent and electrifying, passing the torch to the new Yankee lineup in ‘96.

The peak of the coolest player in baseball history, Ken Griffey Jr., derailing a gem from Cy Young winner David Cone.

The consistency and power of Edgar Martinez, long one of the most underappreciated superstars in baseball, colliding with another former Cy Young winner in Jack McDowell.

Baseball — we say it all the time — is a game of history and nostalgia. But the beauty of that history is that it truly feels like one long chain, uninterrupted and harmonious with past eras, there for you every step of the way in American history. This game, after the 1994 season was ended short because of a strike, re-linked the chain and gave us the next era of baseball that we came to be so familiar with — a Yankees dynasty, MVP Griffey, the A-Rod era, Seattle heartbreak, and so much more.

Let’s all suspend our disbelief for a moment and transport ourselves back to 1991, back into the hands of the gentle and (sometimes too) calm voice of Jack Buck. The nostalgic grain of standard definition washed over our computer screen — mustaches and mullets as far as the eye can see.

It’s Game 7 of the 1991 World Series. It’s 36-year-old Jack Morris vs. 24-year-old John Smoltz — the bona fide ace in the tail of his prime vs. the baseball legend not yet known to be a baseball legend.

Never mind the fact that each lineup was littered with .300 hitters, or that a lunging line drive home run off the bat of Kirby Puckett had decided Game 6.  Game. 7. Is. About. Pitching. And it did not disappoint.

I won’t bore you with the details of innings 1-8, or the exact box score breakdown of the double plays that ended Twins rallies in the 6th, 8th, and 9th inning before they finally broke through in the 10th. I won’t even bore you with an unnecessary rant about there’s no way that Chuck Knoblauch is the real name of a real baseball player who was integral in winning a World Series.

I’ll start in the top of the 8th. Braves leadoff hitter (and DH? Interesting) Lonnie Smith is on first base when third baseman Terry Pendleton doubled to the gap. Confoundingly, as Smith is rounding second base, Knoblauch and shortstop Greg Gagne run a decoy double play turn…as if Lonnie Smith hadn’t seen the ball hit in the air to the outfield…and the decoy either works or is timed coincidentally enough to make it seem like it worked. Smith pauses rounding second, continues when he sees the ball hit the ground in the outfield but doesn’t score. Jack Morris induced a weak ground ball to get Ron Gant out (for like the 6th time that game), and then they turned the fastest 3-2-3 double play in maybe the history of baseball to get out of the inning.

Smoltz, with his pitch count north of 100 at the beginning of the 8th inning, is knocked out following a gorgeous hit and run (remember those?) to set up Game 6 hero Kirby Puckett…who the Braves intentionally walked in favor of Kent Hrbek who, of course, lined into an unassisted inning-ending double play.

Jack Morris — pitch count at 100? 110? 120? doesn’t matter — goes 1-2-3 in the top of the 9th, the Twins do nothing in the bottom of the 9th, then wash-rinse-repeat with Jack Morris in the top of the TENTH, to lead to what we all know is the end: a walkoff from Gene Larkin in the bottom of the 10th to give the Twins their second World Series in just five years.

Listen to our first episode in this series below: