The World Series (4 page)

New York seemed unfazed by the taunts; in fact, they gave as good as they got, and then did much to silence the noise with
their playing.

Earle Combs, the first Yankee batter, came up to the plate and made it to second on an error by the Cubs' shortstop. The next
batter, Joe Sewell, walked. Runners were now on first and second.

Now Babe Ruth strode to the plate. The yelling from the stands and Chicago's dugout grew deafening. It ended abruptly, however,
when Ruth clobbered a home run!

The three-run lead shrank to two when the Cubs scored their first turn at bat. By the fifth inning, the game was tied at four
runs apiece.

Once again, the Sultan of Swat approached the
plate amidst a raucous roar. He stepped into the batter's box and eyed pitcher Charlie Root.

Root reared back and threw. Ruth let it go by.

“Strike one!” the umpire called.

Root got the ball back from catcher Gabby Hartnett, took the signal, and hurled again. Ball one.

The third pitch was also a ball. Ruth watched the fourth go by for a second called strike. He lifted his hand in the air to
acknowledge the umpire's call. Then he pointed his finger.

That finger point has become one of baseball's most controversial and enduring legends. It is controversial because no one
can agree what Ruth was really pointing at. Some believe he was jabbing his finger at the loudmouthed players in the Cubs'
dugout. Others think his single raised finger was saying he only needed one more pitch to get a hit.

But the most popular explanation says that the Babe pointed his finger at the center-field stands, as if to say that's where
he was going to hit the ball. And when he socked Root's next pitch into those very stands, his finger point became known forever
more as the “called shot.”

No one will ever truly know what Babe Ruth
meant, however, because he never said. He simply rounded the bases with a broad smile on his face.

Ruth's blast is perhaps the most famous home run of all time. But it wasn't the last one of that game. Gehrig followed with
his second homer immediately after, lofting the Yankees score to 7–5 for their third straight win of the Series.

Game four was also held in Chicago. Before the game, baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis issued an order to both
clubs — behave like civilized human beings or else. The two teams obeyed.

Of course, the fans hadn't been given any such order. They were as rowdy as ever when their home team took the field. Their
enthusiasm fizzled, however, when the Yankees chalked up a run in the first inning. But it rose again to a fever pitch before
the inning was over, because Chicago put across four runs!

The score remained 4–1 through the second inning. Then New York added two more runs, including a homer, in the third. The
Cubs couldn't answer their turn at bat — in fact, by the top of the ninth, Chicago's bats seemed to have lost their voices
almost completely.

The Yankees' wood, meanwhile, was screaming.
By the game's end, the score stood at 13–6! New York had completely silenced the raucous Chicago team by sweeping them from
the Series in four straight games. The Yankees returned home as heroes while the Cubs licked their wounds.

The Cubs made it back to the Series again in 1935, only to lose to the Detroit Tigers two games to four. New York beat them
again in 1938. But by then, winning the championship had become something of a habit for the Yankees. From 1936 to 1946, they
reached the World Series seven times and won the title six times!

They won an eighth ticket to the Series again in 1947. This was an amazing achievement, yet something else even more amazing
happened that year —something that changed baseball forever.

CHAPTER FOUR
1940s

By the start of the 1947 season, professional baseball was several decades old. During those years, leagues had formed and
disbanded. Players and teams had survived two World Wars. Rules and equipment had changed the way the game was played. And
the World Series had gone from a little-watched event to the most popular championship in the nation.

But one thing had remained consistent throughout these years: every player in the National League and the American League
was white. An unspoken agreement amongst the team owners had seen to that.

That finally changed in 1947, when the Brooklyn Dodgers signed an African-American player named Jackie Robinson. Robinson
was an outstanding athlete who also possessed the inner strength to withstand the prejudice he encountered. Rather than get
angry, he let his fleet feet, powerful hitting, quick glove, and rocket arm speak for him. Thanks to his fortitude, baseball's
color barrier was finally being broken.

It was also thanks to Robinson — at least in part —that the Dodgers won the NL pennant in 1947. They had last been to the
World Series in 1941, when they had lost to the Yankees four games to one. Now the Dodgers had a chance to even the score,
for the Yankees were going to the Series again. The question was, did the Brooklyn team have the muscle to overthrow their
awesome opponents?

On paper, the Yankees were the stronger club. They had a season record of 97 wins and 57 losses, with 115 home runs and 1,439
hits. Offensively, they had racked up 794 runs while allowing their opponents only 568. Brooklyn, on the other hand, had a
season record of 94–60. They had 11 fewer hits than the Yankees, and of their 774 runs, only 83 were homers.

The 1947 Subway Series opened on September 30 in Yankee Stadium before a capacity crowd that included such baseball dignitaries
as Babe Ruth, Ty
Cobb, and Cy Young. Rookie pitcher Francis Joseph Shea, better known as “Spec” because of his freckles, jogged out to the
mound for the Yankees. He got the Dodgers' first batter, Eddie Stanky, to fly out.

Now Jackie Robinson stepped into the batter's box. Six pitches later, he had a free ticket to first base. He tossed the bat
aside and trotted down the line amidst thunderous applause. Moments later, he stole second. But he didn't stay there for long.
When Dodger Dixie Walker singled into left, Robinson dashed past third on his way to home — and into the history books as
the first African-American to score a run in the World Series.

That was Brooklyn's only run that inning, but their pitcher, Ralph Branca, held their lead by retiring the first three Yankees
in order. Amazingly, he did the same thing again in the second inning — and the third, and the fourth!

Branca's perfect game came to an end in the fifth. First Joe DiMaggio clubbed a grounder between short and third that landed
him safely at first. That single was followed by two walks. With the bases loaded and no outs, the next batter, Johnny Lindell,
socked a double behind third base. Two runs had been scored and there were still no outs. Then Phil Rizzuto walked, and the
bases were loaded again!

After four no-hit innings, Branca was suddenly falling apart. The Dodgers' manager pulled him from the game. Now it was up
to reliever Hank Behrman to shut down the Yankees.

But Behrman handed New York another run when he walked the batter he faced. Before the inning was over, the score had jumped
from 1–0 to 5–1. Although Brooklyn managed to add two runs, it wasn't enough. New York took the game, 5–3.

The next day, the Yankees lit up four Brooklyn pitchers for fifteen hits, including three triples and a home run. Defensively,
the Dodgers looked like rank amateurs. They dropped balls, overran easy grounders, and threw wildly. When the dust finally
settled, the Yankees had ten runs. Brooklyn had only three — and by all accounts, they were lucky to have gotten them.

Game three, however, the Dodgers drew first blood, scoring six runs in the second inning! New York managed to cough up a pair
during their turn at bat but then saw the Dodgers pull further ahead
with yet another run in the bottom of the third. Going into the fourth inning, it was Brooklyn 7, New York 2.

The Yankees roared back to draw within two, and then within one. With the score teetering at 9–8 at the top of the ninth,
their momentum slowed and finally stopped. The Dodgers retired the side one-two-three to win game three.

Anyone who left game four after eight innings the next night undoubtedly believed New York had added another win to their
side. But they were wrong — and they missed one of the most exciting endings of any World Series game yet.

Going into the bottom of the ninth, the score was Yankees 2, Dodgers 1. Brooklyn hadn't taken the lead once that game; it
seemed doubtful they would take it in their last raps. But, as Yankee Yogi Berra would one day observe, “It ain't over it's
over” —and New York still needed to get three outs before it was over for Brooklyn.

They got one when Brooklyn's first batter hit a long fly ball to left field that Johnny Lindell caught near the wall. Pitcher
Bill Bevens walked the next batter, Carl Furillo. Furillo was not known for his
speed, so the Dodgers had fleet-footed Al Gionfriddo run for him.

Gionfriddo waited at second while the next batter fouled out. With two outs and only one man on, the Dodgers needed a hit
— badly.

Manager Burt Shotton had a choice. He could have pitcher Hugh Casey hit. Or he could have Pete Reiser pinch-hit. Usually he
wouldn't have hesitated to put in Reiser. But Reiser had injured his ankle the previous game. Unless he really belted the
ball in just the right spot, there was little chance he would be able to outrun a throw to first.

Shotton decided to risk it. He also risked giving Gionfriddo the steal sign. Both risks paid off. Gionfriddo slid under Phil
Rizzuto's throw, landing safely at second, and Bevens intentionally walked Reiser. There were runners at first and second,
and two outs.

So far, the Yankees hadn't given up a single hit in the game; the Dodgers' one run had come on walks and an error. If they
got the next batter out, New York would be the first team to win a no-hitter in the World Series.

Of course, that was the last thing Brooklyn wanted.
Shotton sent pinch hitter Cookie Lavagetto to the plate with one order: Get a hit.

Lavagetto obeyed. On the second pitch, he blasted the ball far into the right field toward the concrete wall. He took off
for first. Eddie Miksis, running for Reiser, dashed for second. Gionfriddo ran for third.

Meanwhile, outfielder Tommy Henrich was fading back. He had a choice: jump up against the wall to try to make the game-ending
catch or pick up the ball after it hit the dirt and hope he could throw out a runner before the winning run was scored.

With a history-making no-hit game on the line, he went for the catch — only realizing seconds later that the catch was impossible
to make. The ball ricocheted off the concrete at a crazy angle. By the time Henrich got his hands on it, not one but two runners
had touched home plate. The Dodgers won the game, 3–2!

The Series now stood at two games each. It was still tied after the next two meetings. That sixth game, a Brooklyn win, was
memorable for one truly remarkable play.

It was 8-5 at the bottom of the sixth. The first
Yankee batter got out on a line drive, the second got a free ticket to first, the third popped out into foul territory, and
the fourth got a single. That brought up New York's finest, Joe DiMaggio. With two men on, two men out, he needed a hit.

He connected on southpaw reliever Joe Hatten's first pitch. The ball soared into the left field near the bull pen. The runners
took off and crossed home plate. DiMaggio rounded first at full speed and then, certain his hit was a home run, slowed to
a jog.

Outfielder Al Gionfriddo wasn't jogging, however. He was sprinting. When that fly ball came down, he was there to make the
catch. And what a catch it was — a beautiful, over-the-shoulder, top-of-the-wall, one-handed nab that robbed DiMaggio of his
homer, erased the two runs, and ended the inning with the Dodgers still ahead by three! And when the game ended with Brooklyn
still up by two, the 1947 World Series was forced into the seventh and final game.

The Dodgers were still riding high when they entered Yankee Stadium for the last game. In the second inning, they knocked
in two runs.