World Series paydirt - Sports Scene - Column

USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), March, 2004 by Wayne M. Barrett

WINNING the World Series has come up in every one of the 100 or so interviews I've conducted with professional baseball players over the past 25 years. Whether it be the fresh-faced rookie just happy to have made the team or the grizzled veteran hanging on for another--or first--shot at glory, the conversation inevitably gets around to the Fall Classic: How important it is to get there and how (even more) important it is to win it. Fanning this obsession comes easily to me. When I first saw the images for "Game Faces," my mind immediately went to the bottom fine. How did these greats fare in the World Series?

For instance, we chose the Cal Ripken photo to run with this column because he caught the line drive that ended the 1983 Series at Philadelphia's Veterans Stadium. That game was special for a few reasons. It secured Ripken his only world's championship. It also was, at least to the best of my knowledge, the last World Series day game ever played. And, perhaps best of all, it was the first Series game I ever attended.

The Ripken image, however, is not my favorite, nor is our cover painting of Nolan Ryan (one World Series championship, 1969, with the Miracle Mets, simply Amazin'). What jumped out at me was Ty Cobb, a no-good so-and-so who frequently sat on the top step of the dugout and sharpened his spikes. He didn't hesitate to use those pointed cleats, either. The Georgia Peach also was not above climbing into the stands to beat the living daylights out of hecklers. All this aside, Cobb and his Tiger teammates were a World Series bust. Detroit stormed into the Series three straight years (1907-09), yet lost each time. Cobb played into the Roaring Twenties, yet never re turned to the Fall Classic.

If Cobb wasn't the game's greatest hitter, then Ted Williams was--well, almost. Babe Ruth aside, no one combined average and power to the degree of The Splendid Splinter. Yet, Teddy Ballgame reached the World Series just once, he and the Red Sox losing to the Cardinals in seven. Another Bosox favorite, catcher Carlton Fisk, appears in "Game Faces" as well. His Game 6, 12th-inning homer at Fenway Park remains perhaps the most enduring image in Fall Classic history. The Sox, though, as is their legacy, dropped Game 7 (as they would to the Mets in 1986), leaving Pudge without his precious title.

Pete Rose, meanwhile, surpassed Cobb for most hits in major league annals, and was part of the famous Big Red Machine that bested Fisk and Boston in the 1975 Classic. After having failed in 1970 (against the Orioles) and 1972 (vs. the Athletics), Rose and the Reds finally brought home the ring in their epic battle with the Red Sox. They then repeated the following year by sweeping the Yankees. Yet, when I see Charlie Hustle, I don't think of those titles, or even the gambling scandal that has kept him out of the Hall of Fame. Instead, I envision the scrappy pepperpot who helped the Phillies to their lone World Series crown, a six-game triumph over the Kansas City Royals in 1980. The Phils' previous pennant was 30 years earlier, when staff ace Robin Roberts helped Philadelphia to its first flag since 1915.

On the other end of the spectrum are Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris, the Bronx Bombers' famed M&M Boys. Besides their home run prowess, they were integral parts of the mighty Yankee dynasty that dominated the early 1960s, claiming five straight pennants and back-to-back world titles in 1961 and 1962. Mantle, however, also enjoyed pinstripe success in the 1950s. Starting with his rookie year (1951), he added World Series rifles in 1952, '53, '56, and '58. One of his teammates was the feisty Billy Martin, who went on to manage the Yanks to the 1976 A.L. pennant and 1977 World Series crown.

Finally, we have the San Francisco Giants' Juan Marichal, the Dominican Dandy famous for his high leg-kick windup and lack of Cy Young Awards (blame Sandy Koufax and Bob Gibson) and championship rings (the Giants lost the 1962 Series to the Yankees in seven, while the 1965-68 clubs finished second to Koufax's Dodgers and Gibson's Cardinals). Or, to put the angst another way, allow me to quote my seven-year-old daughter concerning her father's favorite team.

"Daddy, will the Giants ever win the World Series in your lifetime?" she is fond of asking. "Only if I live long enough," is my standard reply.

Wayne M. Barrett is Publisher and Editor-in-Chief of USA Today.