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Post by chiyankee on Oct 6, 2021 21:20:27 GMT -5
Crazy playoff stat: Reggie Jackson has the most post season HR's at Dodger Stadium with 6.
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Post by Renfield on Oct 6, 2021 21:49:27 GMT -5
Here's a clip from the playoffs, albeit 58 years ago. That Series was my first memory of major league baseball. Really only remember the stadiums on black and white tv. Became a Yankee fan shortly after. My Dad, though a Tiger fan, loved Mickey Mantle so I became a fan, albeit in his waning years. Little did I know the years of suckitude that would soon follow. |
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Post by inger on Oct 6, 2021 22:05:09 GMT -5
Here's a clip from the playoffs, albeit 58 years ago. That Series was my first memory of major league baseball. Really only remember the stadiums on black and white tv. Became a Yankee fan shortly after. My Dad, though a Tiger fan, loved Mickey Mantle so I became a fan, albeit in his waning years. Little did I know the years of suckitude that would soon follow. My first World Series, too. I saw that Mantle HR, not really understanding the significance of it all… not fully… but understanding that Mickey Mantle was the best player and probably would be forever. When you’re nine you assume that when you get “old” you’ll be watching the same players. You don’t quite get that they’re going to age out in a few seasons… |
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Post by anthonyd46 on Oct 6, 2021 22:37:55 GMT -5
Dodgers in danger of being one and done
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Post by noetsi on Oct 6, 2021 23:05:57 GMT -5
Dodgers in danger of being one and done Its tied in Yahoo in the 9th  St Louis had a golden chance in the top of the 9th |
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Post by kaybli on Oct 6, 2021 23:34:33 GMT -5
Dodgers win by a 9th inning 2 run walkoff HR by Chris Taylor.
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Post by pippsheadache on Oct 7, 2021 5:23:32 GMT -5
Here's a clip from the playoffs, albeit 58 years ago. I remember that one. A very depressing Series because the Yankees were swept for the first time (it would happen again in 1976 with The Big Red Machine, but that was less unexpected.) The Yankees were down three games to none when Mick hit that home run off of Koufax in the seventh to tie it 1-1. A brief glimmer of hope in a Series in which the Yankees never led. If I only recalled one play in that Series, it came in the bottom of the seventh, when the Dodgers had a runner on second and two outs. There was a sharp bouncer to Boyer at third, who snared it and gunned a throw to Pepitone, who lost sight of the ball among the white-shirted crowd. It hit him in the arm and rolled down the right field line, allowing a run to score and giving the Dodgers a 2-1 lead that held up. I remember Game One. Koufax setting a strikeout record of 15 and Frank Howard hitting a double on a ball that bounced among the monuments, which were at that time in the field of play. Game Three on a Saturday, so I got to see all of it. Drysdale outdueled Jim Bouton 1-0. That's when Bouton's follow through, with his cap flying off, became a media thing. I remember watching Game Four at my Aunt's house with my brother. During a commercial break in the eighth inning I ran outside for a quick game of fetch with her dog. My brother locked me out and I pounded on the door so hard that my hand went through a pane of glass and I was bleeding all over myself. I was too angry at my brother and the Yankees to care, but I do know that I spent the ninth inning with my bleeding hand swathed in towels. By the way, of the four games, the longest took 2:13. Game Four took 1:50. A baseball game, even a World Series game, was not a four-hour commitment. |
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Post by kaybli on Oct 7, 2021 6:59:27 GMT -5
Here's a clip from the playoffs, albeit 58 years ago. I remember that one. A very depressing Series because the Yankees were swept for the first time (it would happen again in 1976 with The Big Red Machine, but that was less unexpected.) The Yankees were down three games to none when Mick hit that home run off of Koufax in the seventh to tie it 1-1. A brief glimmer of hope in a Series in which the Yankees never led. If I only recalled one play in that Series, it came in the bottom of the seventh, when the Dodgers had a runner on second and two outs. There was a sharp bouncer to Boyer at third, who snared it and gunned a throw to Pepitone, who lost sight of the ball among the white-shirted crowd. It hit him in the arm and rolled down the right field line, allowing a run to score and giving the Dodgers a 2-1 lead that held up. I remember Game One. Koufax setting a strikeout record of 15 and Frank Howard hitting a double on a ball that bounced among the monuments, which were at that time in the field of play. Game Three on a Saturday, so I got to see all of it. Drysdale outdueled Jim Bouton 1-0. That's when Bouton's follow through, with his cap flying off, became a media thing. I remember watching Game Four at my Aunt's house with my brother. During a commercial break in the eighth inning I ran outside for a quick game of fetch with her dog. My brother locked me out and I pounded on the door so hard that my hand went through a pane of glass and I was bleeding all over myself. I was too angry at my brother and the Yankees to care, but I do know that I spent the ninth inning with my bleeding hand swathed in towels. By the way, of the four games, the longest took 2:13. Game Four took 1:50. A baseball game, even a World Series game, was not a four-hour commitment. Great story, pipps! How do you remember such things from 58 years ago? I barely remember what I ate for dinner two days ago. |
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Post by pippsheadache on Oct 7, 2021 10:30:47 GMT -5
Kaybli, that particular game I remember vividly because of all the property damage that accompanied it and it became one of those family stories. My brother and I were supposed to keep an eye on our Aunt's Doberman puppy for a few hours while she was out. She returned to find a broken window pane, a pile of white towels soaked in blood, and the leg to an end table chewed up by the dog when we weren't looking. Great job we did.
But to the larger point, I have a freakishly near-photographic memory for events from my youth. No way I would be able to recall such detail from any Yankee World Series in the 90s or 00s. I can remember my high school locker combinations, what period I had French class my senior year and the room it was in, what songs were playing on the radio when I drove to Ginny Higgins's house to pick her up to go to the 202 Drive In, almost every minute of my life up until my mid-20s. At that point more distractions, like a career and responsibilities more demanding than watching a Doberman.
I have friends with this same affliction. One is a woman with a talk radio show who literally used to memorize a phone directory for mental exercise. Stuff like that.
But for certain I can't remember what I had for lunch two days ago or even lots of details from the sweep of Boston last week. But put 1963 in front of me, and it’s all in there.
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Post by inger on Oct 7, 2021 11:33:21 GMT -5
Kaybli, that particular game I remember vividly because of all the property damage that accompanied it and it became one of those family stories. My brother and I were supposed to keep an eye on our Aunt's Doberman puppy for a few hours while she was out. She returned to find a broken window pane, a pile of white towels soaked in blood, and the leg to an end table chewed up by the dog when we weren't looking. Great job we did. But to the larger point, I have a freakishly near-photographic memory for events from my youth. No way I would be able to recall such detail from any Yankee World Series in the 90s or 00s. I can remember my high school locker combinations, what period I had French class my senior year and the room it was in, what songs were playing on the radio when I drove to Ginny Higgins's house to pick her up to go to the 202 Drive In, almost every minute of my life up until my mid-20s. At that point more distractions, like a career and responsibilities more demanding than watching a Doberman. I have friends with this same affliction. One is a woman with a talk radio show who literally used to memorize a phone directory for mental exercise. Stuff like that. But for certain I can't remember what I had for lunch two days ago or even lots of details from the sweep of Boston last week. But put 1963 in front of me, and it’s all in there. DING. DING. DING. Once again we have tred upon common ground at the Route 202 Drive in. I was only there once. I might have thumbed a nipple that evening, but it might have been my own. “The lesson hadn’t gone too far” (Harry Chapin, “Taxi”). I also had quite a memory of “certain things”, which are now useless. I used to know the phone numbers of almost every business in Rising Sun, Md. by heart, along with some in Conowingo, North East, and Elkton. Add Oxford Auto Parts to that list. What was interesting about that place was the way they answered the phone. It sounded like “Osaupart” they said it so fast and in a monotone of boredom from answering the phone hundreds of times daily. Never any additional courtesies or friendly greetings. Virtually every UPC /Stock number at the store I worked was burned into my memory after having order all the stock for the store for about 15 years. I was surprised to be given that responsibility even as a part time after school worker. I can still tell you that small brass cup hooks were 47-7777-7, but that one was easy. WD 40 in the 8 Oz. can was 78-1378-4. Oh, I could go on, but why? You have no idea if those are correct, much less anything else I might ID, right? … Vacuum cleaner bags, sofas, shock absorbers for a 1968 Rambler Classic, shotgun shells, #6 12 gauge, 22 long rifle bullets, a hand saw, a jig saw, a 3/4 open end wrench, they were all crammed into the cranium and popped out easily when someone knew the store would hold one up for me to see. Or if the wanted to know the number for the Rambler Dealer or the Body Shop on the far side of town. I should have been paid more. Really. I should have been… |
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Post by pippsheadache on Oct 7, 2021 12:04:06 GMT -5
Kaybli, that particular game I remember vividly because of all the property damage that accompanied it and it became one of those family stories. My brother and I were supposed to keep an eye on our Aunt's Doberman puppy for a few hours while she was out. She returned to find a broken window pane, a pile of white towels soaked in blood, and the leg to an end table chewed up by the dog when we weren't looking. Great job we did. But to the larger point, I have a freakishly near-photographic memory for events from my youth. No way I would be able to recall such detail from any Yankee World Series in the 90s or 00s. I can remember my high school locker combinations, what period I had French class my senior year and the room it was in, what songs were playing on the radio when I drove to Ginny Higgins's house to pick her up to go to the 202 Drive In, almost every minute of my life up until my mid-20s. At that point more distractions, like a career and responsibilities more demanding than watching a Doberman. I have friends with this same affliction. One is a woman with a talk radio show who literally used to memorize a phone directory for mental exercise. Stuff like that. But for certain I can't remember what I had for lunch two days ago or even lots of details from the sweep of Boston last week. But put 1963 in front of me, and it’s all in there. DING. DING. DING. Once again we have tred upon common ground at the Route 202 Drive in. I was only there once. I might have thumbed a nipple that evening, but it might have been my own. “The lesson hadn’t gone too far” (Harry Chapin, “Taxi”). I also had quite a memory of “certain things”, which are now useless. I used to know the phone numbers of almost every business in Rising Sun, Md. by heart, along with some in Conowingo, North East, and Elkton. Add Oxford Auto Parts to that list. What was interesting about that place was the way they answered the phone. It sounded like “Osaupart” they said it so fast and in a monotone of boredom from answering the phone hundreds of times daily. Never any additional courtesies or friendly greetings. Virtually every UPC /Stock number at the store I worked was burned into my memory after having order all the stock for the store for about 15 years. I was surprised to be given that responsibility even as a part time after school worker. I can still tell you that small brass cup hooks were 47-7777-7, but that one was easy. WD 40 in the 8 Oz. can was 78-1378-4. Oh, I could go on, but why? You have no idea if those are correct, much less anything else I might ID, right? … Vacuum cleaner bags, sofas, shock absorbers for a 1968 Rambler Classic, shotgun shells, #6 12 gauge, 22 long rifle bullets, a hand saw, a jig saw, a 3/4 open end wrench, they were all crammed into the cranium and popped out easily when someone knew the store would hold one up for me to see. Or if the wanted to know the number for the Rambler Dealer or the Body Shop on the far side of town. I should have been paid more. Really. I should have been… You can't put a price tag on that kind of skill, Inger. At least yours served a more useful service than mine. I believe you had the Elkton Drive In down your way, although I never made it to that one. I loved drive-ins, although obviously they served a greater purpose than disseminating cinematic excellence. The particular evening in question we went to watch "Blow Up" if you know that one. Lots of great Yardbirds songs. Songs I remember hearing in the car that night were "Tell It Like It Is" by Aaron Neville, "Nashville Cats" by The Lovin' Spoonful, "Try A Little Tenderness" by Otis Redding" and "We Ain't Got Nothing Yet" by The Blues Magoos. I guess we all have far more vivid memories of our youth than the stuff that comes after it. |
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Post by inger on Oct 7, 2021 12:32:31 GMT -5
DING. DING. DING. Once again we have tred upon common ground at the Route 202 Drive in. I was only there once. I might have thumbed a nipple that evening, but it might have been my own. “The lesson hadn’t gone too far” (Harry Chapin, “Taxi”). I also had quite a memory of “certain things”, which are now useless. I used to know the phone numbers of almost every business in Rising Sun, Md. by heart, along with some in Conowingo, North East, and Elkton. Add Oxford Auto Parts to that list. What was interesting about that place was the way they answered the phone. It sounded like “Osaupart” they said it so fast and in a monotone of boredom from answering the phone hundreds of times daily. Never any additional courtesies or friendly greetings. Virtually every UPC /Stock number at the store I worked was burned into my memory after having order all the stock for the store for about 15 years. I was surprised to be given that responsibility even as a part time after school worker. I can still tell you that small brass cup hooks were 47-7777-7, but that one was easy. WD 40 in the 8 Oz. can was 78-1378-4. Oh, I could go on, but why? You have no idea if those are correct, much less anything else I might ID, right? … Vacuum cleaner bags, sofas, shock absorbers for a 1968 Rambler Classic, shotgun shells, #6 12 gauge, 22 long rifle bullets, a hand saw, a jig saw, a 3/4 open end wrench, they were all crammed into the cranium and popped out easily when someone knew the store would hold one up for me to see. Or if the wanted to know the number for the Rambler Dealer or the Body Shop on the far side of town. I should have been paid more. Really. I should have been… You can't put a price tag on that kind of skill, Inger. At least yours served a more useful service than mine. I believe you had the Elkton Drive In down your way, although I never made it to that one. I loved drive-ins, although obviously they served a greater purpose than disseminating cinematic excellence. The particular evening in question we went to watch "Blow Up" if you know that one. Lots of great Yardbirds songs. Songs I remember hearing in the car that night were "Tell It Like It Is" by Aaron Neville, "Nashville Cats" by The Lovin' Spoonful, "Try A Little Tenderness" by Otis Redding" and "We Ain't Got Nothing Yet" by The Blues Magoos. I guess we all have far more vivid memories of our youth than the stuff that comes after it. Pretty decent recall of our first amazing road trip. The buzz around the house was huge as we prepared to go to a magical, mystical land called New Jersey. The car to be perfectly cleaned (my brother’s) so it could collect 30,000 bugs on the grill and windshield along the way. Lunch was packed so we wouldn’t have to eat at one of those expensive Howard Johnson’s. My mother had already sampled McDonalds at some point in her life and was never again going to eat one of those “Damned little burgers that tasted like cardboard. That place will never stay open”. We had the nightmare scenario of having a flat tire on the old nylon tires along the turnpike. While my brother was changing it, I took a walk and found a Mercury head dime in the ditch. My mother was sure I’d be a millionaire after that. Anyone that could fine a dime along the freeway, why… money just fell into my hands. I was about 9 that year. No. I WAS 9. Probably the first time out of Cecil County with the exception of a couple of trips to Wilmington Dry Goods to buy clothes. Delaware! Wow, a different state! New Jersey! A whole new planet. “That’s it folks. Leon Ingerson had just stepped foot in New Jersey. One small step for man, one giant step for Leon. Those two states and Pennsylvania, which we drove through on that trip would be it for me until I was 20 years old, and driving my own car. Married already for a year. Can you imagine being so land locked as our family was? One other quick recall about the drive was that I was sitting behind my brother in the old two door 1957 Ford Fairlane. All the windows were down. No a/c. My brother flicked his ashes out his window and they went directly into my smiling mouth. Brother looked in the rear view mirror at my blackened teeth and laughed so hard he nearly crashed the car. Imagine folks, a lusty 128 miles each way. The miles were piling up on the car. Would it ever recover? Yeah. It was fine. Right-o (echoes, right-0) How bout your left toe (echoes how bout you left toe)? My brother and mother had started exchanging some impromptu little (and unfunny) plays on right-0 for some reason I wasn’t aware of. I recall adding the one above and making everyone in the car laugh. I made the mistake of repeating it and got reprimanded that once was “Goddam enough. You take something funny and wear it the **** out and ruin it”… Hmm. I still think Locastro was asking for a fork. I have no idea what they were talking about…it wasn’t easy for me to have fun in that household… More memories are there, involving the stay at my aunt’s house, but that’s another story… |
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Post by pippsheadache on Oct 7, 2021 16:02:29 GMT -5
McCullers has not allowed a Chicago baserunner through three. Houston up 1-0 against Lance Lynn.
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Post by inger on Oct 7, 2021 16:06:47 GMT -5
McCullers has not allowed a Chicago baserunner through three. Houston up 1-0 against Lance Lynn. Although I “don’t care” about the playoffs, as reality sinks in anc the games have started, I really want the Astros knocked out of them as quickly as possible. Boston, too… I could take the Rays winning… sort of… |
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Post by pippsheadache on Oct 7, 2021 16:11:36 GMT -5
Well, Houston now up 3-0 against a struggling Lance Lynn.
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