A TALE OF THREE CITIES: NEW YORK, L.A. AND SAN FRANCISCO IN OCTOBER OF ‘62 (52 page)

"Certainly, it was the biggest hit of my
career," said Kuenn, which was saying something. Larsen came in to
protect the lead. Typical Dodgers fans rushed to the parking lot
and their appointments with the Pasadena, Harbor, Golden State,
Hollywood and Santa Monica freeways. In front of growing numbers of
vacant seats, L.A. loaded the bases for the "Giant killer," Tommy
Davis, who already had two hits and two RBIs in the game. Stu "the
Killer Moth" Miller came in. Davis's drive to left field looked to
be a homer, but Kuenn speared it. Dark dripped to knees in the
dugout. A run scored but there were two outs. Howard, who hated
facing Miller and previously struck out four straight times against
him, came to the plate. Miller got him to swing clumsily, but then
laid one in there. Hondo hit a towering shot, barely foul down the
left field line. Then Howard popped to Davenport and it was over.
Dark called it, "The most important game I've ever managed."

The Giants returned to San Francisco. It was
now September, the best time of the year in the Bay Area. They
trailed by a mere game and a half with three weeks left. San
Francisco and Los Angeles had no more regular season games left
with each other. As if giving thanks for "deliverance" after the
Dodger Stadium dramatics, Felipe Alou invited his manager to the
Peninsula Bible Church in Palo Alto, where 2,000 people heard the
outfielder's testimony on "what the Lord meant to me."

Among Alou's blessings at that time were hits
in seven straight plate appearances and the fact that his club was
as hot as a pistol. They stayed hot, sweeping Chicago and
Pittsburgh to increase their winning streak to seven games.
However, L.A., who refused to buckle amid the late-season pressure,
demolished both of those clubs. Both teams left for their final
road trips - 10 for the Dodgers, 11 for the Giants. On September 12
it was hot and muggy in Cincinnati. Starter Gaylord Perry said the
change from the moderate San Francisco weather to the Midwest
humidity was "a jolt for everyone." Perry changed his shirt twice
that night.

Mays was affected, but not just by the
weather. The pressures of the pennant race, in which he was
carrying his team on his shoulders, combined with his troubles - a
contentious divorce, tax problems, debts, an unhappy personal life
- came to a head after the long plane flight from the cool West
Coast to the sweltering Queen City. To top it off, he ate junk food
that day and it did not sit well with him.

Mays shortened his batting practice turns
and struck out his first time at the plate. In the third inning he
staggered and fainted in the dugout. Mays was carried by stretcher
to the clubhouse and then transferred to Christ Hospital. Mays
rested and felt okay the next day, asking to re-join the team. He
was released after 24 hours of observation.

The San Francisco papers treated Mays's
health in tabloid manner with rumors of venereal disease, a dugout
fight, epilepsy, a heart attack, and even the influence of Kentucky
gamblers supposedly slipping him a "Mickey Finn" to affect the
betting line. He was, simply, emotionally, mentally and physically
exhausted. Later Mays was given a clean bill of health by a San
Francisco doctor.

But their star's collapse was a blow to the
club. The Giants lost two to the Reds and their momentum was gone.
Dark sat him some more to be sure and they lost two straight at
Pittsburgh. In the last 19 games Mays had missed, his team was
0-19! The Giants blew a 2-1 ninth inning lead to the Pirates when
pitcher Earl Francis hit a homer to win his game. The next night
the Pirates broke an eighth inning tie on Bob Bailey's triple.

Mays returned the next night and homered to
send the game into extra innings but Smoky Burgess homered for
Pittsburgh to hand the Giants their fifth straight loss. The next
night the Pirates beat Mike McCormick to sweep the series. Dark was
furious, throwing food around the clubhouse. They trailed by four
games.

The Dodgers had won seven straight but
struggled. Stan Williams beat the Cubs at home but gave up a grand
slam at Wrigley Field in a loss. He was pulled from the rotation
and, with no explanation, never returned in regular season play.
"It really hurt my pride that they felt I wasn't good enough to do
the job," said Williams.

Los Angeles lost two of three in Milwaukee.
In St. Louis, a meeting was held on Thursday, September 20 at the
Chase Park Plaza Hotel. Traveling secretary Lee Scott assembled
Alston, Snider, and the coaching staff. Walter O'Malley flew in. It
was an off-day.

"Get tough, Walter," advised O'Malley.
"You've got to ride herd on 'em. They're going to blow this thing,
sure as hell, unless you can light a fire under them. Warn them
that if they blow the pennant, they’ll lose more than just the
World Series money. It will be reflected in their salaries next
year."

Alston disagreed, preferring a vote of
confidence. O'Malley responded that "These are not high school kids
- they're professionals," insisting that Alston get tough and "make
me the heavy."

Alston held his ground, but O'Malley told
him that if the team lost, "some heads will roll." Snider told
O'Malley not to worry. That night, oddly, the Dodgers attended the
Giants-Cardinals game at the old Busch Stadium. The Giants had
snapped their six-game losing streak when Tom Haller homered twice,
but that night the Giants blew a 4-3 lead in the ninth on a balk
and Ken Boyer's game-winning single, 5-4.

The Giants and Dodgers were both staying at
the Chase Park Plaza at the same time. Perranoski told Felipe Alou
after the game he would "see you guys next year," and "we win and
you won't." On September 7 Wills broke the National League record,
previously set by Cincinnati's Bob Bescher in 1911, with his
81
^st
stolen base. "My sincere congratulations," wired
league president Warren Giles, apparently willing to let Wills's
"nickels, dimes and pennies" fine-paying incident go. "Now go all
the way and break the record held by the great Ty Cobb."

Cobb had stolen 96 bases in 1915 and had
died one year earlier. Considered one of the very best players ever
to play baseball, Cobb was a portrait of human contrast: a virulent
racist who was also a believing Baptist and major contributor to
black colleges in the South. One year earlier, Al Stump's article
about Cobb had been published in
Look
magazine. It told the
story of a bitter old drunk, estranged from friends and family,
utterly unable to make sense of the new world he lived in.

Most incomprehensible to Cobb was the
existence of blacks in the Major Leagues; not just participants,
but veritable matinee idols of sports. One of those very men, the
symbol of the "new breed," Maury Wills was about to break his most
cherished record. Cobb, wrote many a writer, was "turning in his
grave."

But the day of the 154
^th
game of
the season, Commissioner Ford Frick did the same thing he had done
to Roger Maris in 1961, stating that Wills had to break the record
in 154 games for the mark to stand. Because of two ties, Cobb had
played 156 games in 1915, two more than the regular 154-game
schedule. Frick still insisted that the 154-game standard would
apply.

"I wouldn't have minded so much had Frick
made his ruling earlier," Wills said. "But why did he wait until
the last day?" Wills could have broken the mark earlier had he
sensed urgency. "Cobb got 156 games to set his record and I thought
I would, too."

On September 16 Bob Buhl of the Cubs shut
out L.A., 5-0. Koufax returned in mid-September. The team won 17 of
21 after his injury in July, opening their five and a half-game
lead of August 8, but there was little doubt that his absence had
helped San Francisco stay in the race.

"If we'd had Koufax the whole season we
would have waltzed to the pennant," said Norm Sherry. "His injury
was the opportunity that gave us a chance to get back in the race,"
said Al Dark.

On September 23, O'Dell won his
19
^th
game,10-3 over the Colt .45s. On that same day, a
classic Koufax vs. Bob Gibson re-match of their earlier scoreless
duel was in the offing, but Gibby fractured a bone during batting
practice.

"There was this tremendous sigh of relief
from the Dodgers because they hadn't been hitting, and now they
wouldn't have to face this future Hall of Famer," said Scully.
"Curt Simmons, who was very much nearing the end of his career, was
rushed into the breach to pitch for Gibson."

"I could get out of bed in the middle of
December and steal two off Simmons," said Wills.

But Koufax had nothing, giving up a
first-inning grand slam. Now the score altered Wills's stolen base
strategy. He could not afford to run the team out of a rally just
for personal gain. In the sixth, with the Dodgers trailing 4-1,
Wills walked and stole number 95. He then took off for third to tie
the mark in the 154
^th
game. He had it easily. At the
last moment, Jim Gilliam laid down a totally useless bunt. He was
thrown out, credited with a sacrifice that was a joke. Wills lost
the stolen base. He had no further chances and St. Louis won,
11-2.

After the game, George Lederer of the
Long Beach Press-Telegram
asked Wills if Alston had called
for a bunt. "Why don't you ask him?" Wills replied, pointing to
Gilliam. Lederer went to Gilliam and repeated the question. Gilliam
had had enough. He disliked Wills, was tired of playing "second
fiddle" to him all year, and had obviously bunted to deprive him of
glory.

"If looks could kill, Gilliam's expression
would have struck the man dead," wrote David Plaut in
Chasing
October
. "Mind your or Godd--n business," said Gilliam.

"You must have seen that Wills had the base
stolen," Lederer continued. "What was going through your mind."

Gilliam had been caught red-handed, backed
into a corner, and reacted angrily by threatening to punch the
writer in the nose, but Wills wisely avoided stirring further
trouble by repeating the company lie that Gilliam was trying for a
base hit with a legitimate bunt try, an effort to spark a rally;
not trying to screw up his record-breaking effort.

"I haven't asked anybody to sacrifice for me
all season, and I'm not about to now," said Wills. The next night
Podres and Larry Sherry combined for a 4-3 win, number 100. Wills
did not steal a base. Game number 156 was against the tough Larry
Jackson, the most difficult guy in the league for Wills to steal
on.

In the third Wills singled and stole second
for number 96, as the crowd cheered. But St. Louis went out to an
11-2 lead. Wills batted in the seventh. Alston told him to try for
the record regardless of the score. Wills poked a two-strike single
and the Cardinal crowd cheered him on. Jackson threw over to first
half a dozen times. First baseman Bill White applied hard slap tags
to Wills's skull.

Wills shortened his lead to indicate "that
Jackson had me buffaloed." Jackson delivered home and the Cardinals
relaxed. Then Wills took off for second - a delayed steal, which he
never did before, but Al Campanis had suggested he try - sliding in
safely. Catcher Carl Sawatski, who was in the process of throwing
back to Jackson, had to make a hurried throw to second that
bounced. Wills slid head first and had the record.

In the ninth Wills was presented with the
bag. Later, Frick backed off his 154-game edict, saying the mark
would stand without an asterisk in the official records after
all.

Hall of Famer Max Carey, a one-time
practitioner of the base stealing arts, had watched Wills closely
all year; stealing home, rattling pitchers, and changing the
dynamics of the game. "It does me good to see a fellow operate like
that," he said.

"I didn't see how I could ever improve on that,"
Wills said of the club record 50 bases he stole in 1960. "I was
even sure more sure of it the next year, when I only stole 35. Even
that was good enough to lead the league.

Wills set a goal of 50 in 1962, but got there by
July 27. "I didn't think of the record until I had upped my figure
to 72 by stealing three against the Mets on August 26," he
continued. "Then, for the first time, Ty Cobb's record of 96 looked
possible."

Whenever Wills reached first, fans chanted "Go! Go!
" giving him renewed strength and confidence despite the
raspberries, fatigue bordering on physical exhaustion, pulled
hamstrings, and internal bleeding.

On September 29, San Francisco visited Houston's
brutally-hot Colt Stadium, home of the Colt .45s before the
Astrodome was built and the team became the Astros. Flies said to
be as large as a man's fist buzzed about. The Giants won on Friday
night, 11-5. On Saturday Miller was wild and Sanford was brought in
for a rare relief appearance. Roman Mejias stroked a hit past a
drawn-in infield to beat the Giants. They trailed by four with
seven games left. It seemed to be over. On Sunday they kept hope
alive with a victory, but had gone 3-8 in their disastrous last
road trip.

Los Angeles was 100-56. The Giants, at 97-59,
trailed by three. On Monday both teams rested. Both were at home to
finish the season. Giants booster Bud Levitas threw a backyard
barbecue, and it felt like a farewell party, but Dark made a speech
about never giving up. His Christian faith - not to mention the
experience of 1951 which he shared with three coaches, Willie Mays,
announcer Russ Hodges, owner Horace Stoneham, among others - was
the rock he used to maintain strength.

"We're gonna catch these damn Dodgers and we'll beat
'em in the play-offs," Dark exclaimed.

"Everybody thought he was nuts," said Carl
Boles.

The Dodgers - Snider, O'Malley, Bavasi, Scully,
Leo Durocher
- also remembered 1951. But Orlando Cepeda
claimed that Dark told him if the club failed to finish second
(Cincinnati was pushing and would win 98 games) he would not
support their contract demands. Dark denied having done that,
certainly not if "we had any mathematical chance to win."