It began with a comment by longtime friend, Derek Meinecke, during his episode on my podcast, “Conversations with Sports Fans.” (Aside: If you’ve not listened to Derek’s episode, please do. He’s an incredible storyteller and his recollection of a special day with his father at Notre Dame Stadium is what being a sports fan is all about.)
Derek noted that a friend had texted him recently, “If you could go back in time to witness any 10 sporting event what would they be?”
And with that, I’ve found myself wrestling with this question for the past three months.
It’s time to, as Huey Lewis and the News once sang “Get Back in Time.” It’s worth noting any one of these 10 would be worthy of being Number 1, but I figured I needed to get them out of my head and into the world.
As you read these installments over the next 10 weeks my hope is to promote some thought and, perhaps, a bit of debate. And, remember, there are no wrong answers. Please comment either on this post or by emailing me directly at hilldouglast@gmail.com.
As I’ve documented in this space multiple times, growing up in rural Decatur, IN, during the 1970s there were myriad options of Major League Baseball teams to root for. My hometown was about equidistance from the two Chicago teams, Cincinnati, and Cleveland. And, thanks to the power of 50,000-watt radio stations, Pittsburgh (KDKA), St. Louis (KMOX), and Detroit (WJR) were all possibilities.
But this was the 1970s and the Big Red Machine was a very real thing to my childhood self.
We begin this journey back in time with the fifth and deciding game of the National League Championship Series (October 11, 1972) played in, of all places, Cincinnati’s Riverfront Stadium.
While I’d no doubt enjoy seeing my childhood heroes Bench, Rose, Morgan, Perez, et al. play, I’m here to see a member of the opposition.
By the time this game was played, Roberto Clemente was a 37-year-old aging rightfielder. Though he batted .312 during the 1972 season, it was over only 102 games thanks to injuries that began to rob him of some skills. Less-than two weeks earlier, Clemente collected his 3,000th career hit in Pittsburgh’s Three Rivers Stadium off New York Met, Jon Matlack.
That aside, I’m venturing 51 years into the wayback machine to see Clemente play – in what would become – his final game.
Unlike my fascination with trailblazing Baseball Hall of Famer Jackie Robinson, I came to be intrigued by Clemente much later in life. In my early 40s I read David Maraniss’s remarkable 2007 biography, Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball’s Last Hero, and grew a deeper appreciation for a player I don’t have any recollection of having seen in action aside from highlight reels.
Certainly the tragedy of his death in that fateful New Year’s Eve plane crash while attempting to bring relief to earthquake-stricken Nicaragua only served to enhance my intrigue.
And, I suppose, that’s why going back to see this game at Riverfront makes it’s way into my Top 10.
Unlike the experience I had this past weekend at Comerica Park in Detroit where over 30,000 fans celebrated the career of future Hall of Famer Miguel Cabrera, no one knew that day in Cicinnati 50-plus years ago was going to be Clemente’s last. For all anyone knew, he’d be back for the 1973 season, presumably a little older and a little slower, but still … Clemente. That is, going from first to third on a single to center, throwing baserunners out from his defensive position in rightfield, and being the consumate teammate bringing along the younger Pirates who would go on to become Pittsburgh’s 1979 “We are Family” championship team.
While I’m sure I’d have mixed emotions watching Clemente go 1-for-3 in this game while my beloved Reds scratched out two runs in the bottom of the ninth to walk it off when pinch-runner George Foster scampered home on Bob Moose‘s 2-out wild pitch, I do know that it would be an historic moment to be a part of … even if the other 41,887 fans had no inkling.
