The American League representative, the Minnesota Twins, had gone 74-88 in 1990 and then improved by 21 games, finishing with a 95-67 record in 1991, finishing 8 games ahead of the second-place Chicago White Sox.
I moved to Minneapolis in the fall of 1988. I got a job as an usher at Twins games in the spring of 1989. I enjoyed the heck out of being at a major league ballpark for the first time in my life. It was kind of a dream come true. I grew up loving baseball more than anything other than my mother, so this was the thrill of a lifetime.
I once recall when I was working the "late night ticket office" position after a home game in 1989, sitting in section 129 at the Metrodome with most of the lights off in the empty Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome. I looked at the banner commemorating the 1987 World Championship team and thought, "Man, I missed being here for the one championship they're ever gonna win."
Fast forward to October 1991. The Twins put together an amazing season, winning the Western division title by eight games over the Chicago White Sox. They dismissed the Eastern division champions from Toronto in five games and prepared to meet the Braves who topped the Pittsburgh Pirates in seven games, including three games which they won by shutout.
In keeping with the pattern of their appearance against the St. Louis Cardinals in the 1987 series, in which the home team won each of the seven games, the home team won each of the first five games in this one. At the end of game two I received a call on the radio. The person on the other end told me they needed me to go to a suite on the third base side of the ballpark and escort Ted Turner and Jane Fonda through the crowd and out to street level. I did just that. They were extremely cordial, given the fact that their team had just lost the second consecutive game of the World Series. A surreal moment that just happened to fall into my lap to be sure.
The hometown 9 did not fare well in Atlanta, losing two straight nail-biters and then getting beaten down in game 5 to put the Braves up three games to two. We needed to win game six just to have the opportunity to win the whole thing in seven games. The game was tied after seven innings and remained that way until the bottom of the eleventh. I had made my way down to the area just behind the Braves bullpen. There's a padded fence which can be opened by lifting a pin, about 3 foot long with a curve at the top for easy gripping. I positioned myself right behind that pin as the rest of the fan relations staff along with local law enforcement prepared for the remainder of the game, not knowing how much longer it would continue.
The leadoff batter in the bottom of the eleventh was Kirby Puckett. Puckett had already made a great catch to rob Ron Gant of a double and a run batted in in the third inning. Charlie Leibrandt came in to pitch for Atlanta and on a 2-1 pitch Puckett hit a high fly ball to left center field. Having been around this game for the vast majority of my life my ears told me immediately that this would be a game-winning homer. I reached down and without looking pulled the pin that opened the padded gate. As the gate slowly opened I had a split-second of panic as I thought "what if it doesn't clear the plexiglas wall?" By not looking back I was unaware if anyone had followed me onto the field or if I would be the only fool running onto the field during game 6 of a World Series. But, luckily, the ball made it to row 5, section 101 and all was good.
I ran to the third base bag as we on the staff had all chosen a place to view the crowd and hear the noise which followed the game-winning hit. I was standing on the third base bag when a grounds crew member nudged me gently and removed the base. The feeling of disbelief was truly amazing. Fans were cheering, hugging, applauding and mouthing the word "Wow!" all over the place. Slowly but surely the ballpark began to empty. The only thing left was to repeat the feat the next night.
Game 7 brought the pitching matchup of Atlanta's John Smoltz and St. Paul's own Jack Morris. Morris had won a World Series championship in 1984 with the Tigers and would be looking to win his second ring. The game would prove to be everything a true baseball purist like myself could have wanted. During the pregame I was working at the press gate and we once again sacrificed a baseball card by burning it at the turnstiles. I wish I could remember the players who's cards we torched before each game. We slowly started the chant of "Owaah-ta-shmuhh-kiam. Owaah-ta-shmuhh-kiam. Owaa-tash-muhh-kiam." Now, if you say it a little faster each time, you will quickly get the joke. We even had a celebrity appearance by actor Charlie Sheen at the gate.
Around about the bottom of the eighth inning I was making my way down to the same area I had been in for the end of game 6. I was standing at the top of the section directly behind home plate when the Twins completed the 3-2-3 double play to get out of a huge jam in the top of the inning. Downing the right field tunnel area we tried our best to be in exactly the same places as we had been roughly 24 hours earlier in an attempt to satisfy our baseball superstition and bring a win and a championship to the Twins.
My nerves were such that I was unable to watch the Braves batters, so I turned away and listened to the crowd's reaction to the events on the field to know what was going on. I was okay watching the Twins hit in the eighth and ninth. In the tenth Dan Gladden led off with a broken-bat double. It was at that point that I got the thought that this would be the last inning of baseball in 1991. Atlanta intentionally walked both Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek in order to pitch to (and this is the answer to one of my favorite Twins trivia questions) Jarvis Brown. Many fans forget that Brown had pinch-run for Chili Davis, who was the designated hitter, one inning earlier. Tom Kelly went to his bench again for Gene Larkin. Larkin came to the plate with Alejandro Pena on the mound for the Braves. Larkin was not in the best of health with a slight leg injury, so a clean base hit or a sacrifice fly would be what he was looking for. The Braves were no doubt looking for a ground ball which might allow them to cut down the lead runner at home and possibly turn a double play of their own.
But at 11:01, on the first pitch Alejandro Pena threw, Larkin lifted a fly ball over the drawn-in outfield and when the ball landed on the turf the Twins were champions of the baseball world "for the second time in five years" as Twins announcer Herb Carneal was saying on the radio. I quickly pulled the pin on the gate, opened the door and sprinted out onto the astroturf, head down and moving quickly toward the third base bag which Dan Gladden had tagged up from less than a minute earlier. En route I glanced up just as I was getting to the line which simulates the infield from the outfield. It was at this moment that I came within 6-8 inches from just running over Atlanta second baseman Mark Lemke who had his head down in dejection and never saw me. Talk about adding insult to injury, right?
I took my place on top of third base and listened to the crowd which, amazingly, was even louder than the night before. You literally could not hear yourself think, and it was a great sensation.
We were on the field for about 30 minutes or so. After leaving the field I made my way through various parts of the stadium. I remember walking past the door of the office which would become my own office some 5 1/2 years in the future. I also encountered front office personnel who would become my future co-workers in various levels of happiness. I ran into team president Jerry Bell who had a bottle of champagne in one hand a huge cigar in his mouth. Jerry gave me a big hug for no other reason than I was the only person nearby whom he hadn't given one to yet. Many of them were carrying champagne bottles and lit cigars. I walked outside to the scoreboard sign which stood at the corner of 5th and Chicago Avenues and there was a guy who was running into it at full speed and slamming his body into the side of it. I guess he was hoping to hit it hard enough to knock out some of the lights on it. A few minutes later though he was successful in his quest. He hit the side of this metal storage area and the lights on the smaller dot matrix board went completely dark. It was misting by this time and the crowd, some of whom had tried to actually climb the light poles, applauded in appreciation of the effort.
The leadoff batter in the bottom of the eleventh was Kirby Puckett. Puckett had already made a great catch to rob Ron Gant of a double and a run batted in in the third inning. Charlie Leibrandt came in to pitch for Atlanta and on a 2-1 pitch Puckett hit a high fly ball to left center field. Having been around this game for the vast majority of my life my ears told me immediately that this would be a game-winning homer. I reached down and without looking pulled the pin that opened the padded gate. As the gate slowly opened I had a split-second of panic as I thought "what if it doesn't clear the plexiglas wall?" By not looking back I was unaware if anyone had followed me onto the field or if I would be the only fool running onto the field during game 6 of a World Series. But, luckily, the ball made it to row 5, section 101 and all was good.
I ran to the third base bag as we on the staff had all chosen a place to view the crowd and hear the noise which followed the game-winning hit. I was standing on the third base bag when a grounds crew member nudged me gently and removed the base. The feeling of disbelief was truly amazing. Fans were cheering, hugging, applauding and mouthing the word "Wow!" all over the place. Slowly but surely the ballpark began to empty. The only thing left was to repeat the feat the next night.
Game 7 brought the pitching matchup of Atlanta's John Smoltz and St. Paul's own Jack Morris. Morris had won a World Series championship in 1984 with the Tigers and would be looking to win his second ring. The game would prove to be everything a true baseball purist like myself could have wanted. During the pregame I was working at the press gate and we once again sacrificed a baseball card by burning it at the turnstiles. I wish I could remember the players who's cards we torched before each game. We slowly started the chant of "Owaah-ta-shmuhh-kiam. Owaah-ta-shmuhh-kiam. Owaa-tash-muhh-kiam." Now, if you say it a little faster each time, you will quickly get the joke. We even had a celebrity appearance by actor Charlie Sheen at the gate.
Around about the bottom of the eighth inning I was making my way down to the same area I had been in for the end of game 6. I was standing at the top of the section directly behind home plate when the Twins completed the 3-2-3 double play to get out of a huge jam in the top of the inning. Downing the right field tunnel area we tried our best to be in exactly the same places as we had been roughly 24 hours earlier in an attempt to satisfy our baseball superstition and bring a win and a championship to the Twins.
My nerves were such that I was unable to watch the Braves batters, so I turned away and listened to the crowd's reaction to the events on the field to know what was going on. I was okay watching the Twins hit in the eighth and ninth. In the tenth Dan Gladden led off with a broken-bat double. It was at that point that I got the thought that this would be the last inning of baseball in 1991. Atlanta intentionally walked both Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek in order to pitch to (and this is the answer to one of my favorite Twins trivia questions) Jarvis Brown. Many fans forget that Brown had pinch-run for Chili Davis, who was the designated hitter, one inning earlier. Tom Kelly went to his bench again for Gene Larkin. Larkin came to the plate with Alejandro Pena on the mound for the Braves. Larkin was not in the best of health with a slight leg injury, so a clean base hit or a sacrifice fly would be what he was looking for. The Braves were no doubt looking for a ground ball which might allow them to cut down the lead runner at home and possibly turn a double play of their own.
But at 11:01, on the first pitch Alejandro Pena threw, Larkin lifted a fly ball over the drawn-in outfield and when the ball landed on the turf the Twins were champions of the baseball world "for the second time in five years" as Twins announcer Herb Carneal was saying on the radio. I quickly pulled the pin on the gate, opened the door and sprinted out onto the astroturf, head down and moving quickly toward the third base bag which Dan Gladden had tagged up from less than a minute earlier. En route I glanced up just as I was getting to the line which simulates the infield from the outfield. It was at this moment that I came within 6-8 inches from just running over Atlanta second baseman Mark Lemke who had his head down in dejection and never saw me. Talk about adding insult to injury, right?
I took my place on top of third base and listened to the crowd which, amazingly, was even louder than the night before. You literally could not hear yourself think, and it was a great sensation.
We were on the field for about 30 minutes or so. After leaving the field I made my way through various parts of the stadium. I remember walking past the door of the office which would become my own office some 5 1/2 years in the future. I also encountered front office personnel who would become my future co-workers in various levels of happiness. I ran into team president Jerry Bell who had a bottle of champagne in one hand a huge cigar in his mouth. Jerry gave me a big hug for no other reason than I was the only person nearby whom he hadn't given one to yet. Many of them were carrying champagne bottles and lit cigars. I walked outside to the scoreboard sign which stood at the corner of 5th and Chicago Avenues and there was a guy who was running into it at full speed and slamming his body into the side of it. I guess he was hoping to hit it hard enough to knock out some of the lights on it. A few minutes later though he was successful in his quest. He hit the side of this metal storage area and the lights on the smaller dot matrix board went completely dark. It was misting by this time and the crowd, some of whom had tried to actually climb the light poles, applauded in appreciation of the effort.
I went back inside and I was standing at the top of a stairwell in the concourse near gate D at about 2 am when the players started to make their way to the parking lot. The first player up the stairs was Gene Larkin, who had delivered the game-winning hit. I said to him, "Does it feel real yet?" His reply was, "Rod, NOTHING feels real right now!" I shook his hand and sent him out to the damp, loud and adoring fans in the parking lot.
I actually ran into Gene Larkin about a year ago at the airport while I was at work. We greeted each other with about the same enthusiasm as we did after game 7 in 1991. He still recalls that feeling and so do I.
I got into my 1989 Hyundai Excel, rolled the windows down an opened up the sunroof to attempt to clear out some to the champagne and cigar smell which had permeated my uniform. Nearly every local FM station was playing "We Are The Champions" by Queen and it was blaring on the stereo.
I arrived home to find the newspaper waiting in front of my garage door. I got out of the car and opened it up. The headline confirmed that what I had just experienced had indeed happened. My wife Bryn was waiting upstairs as I entered my townhome. She said, What's that smell?" I told her it was the smell of a word championship. She asked me kindly to go down and change into something less odiferous. Keeping in mind that we'd been married just 15 days, I thought, "Don't screw this up already." and so I did just that. It must've worked because that marriage lasted some 30 more years.
I got into my 1989 Hyundai Excel, rolled the windows down an opened up the sunroof to attempt to clear out some to the champagne and cigar smell which had permeated my uniform. Nearly every local FM station was playing "We Are The Champions" by Queen and it was blaring on the stereo.
I arrived home to find the newspaper waiting in front of my garage door. I got out of the car and opened it up. The headline confirmed that what I had just experienced had indeed happened. My wife Bryn was waiting upstairs as I entered my townhome. She said, What's that smell?" I told her it was the smell of a word championship. She asked me kindly to go down and change into something less odiferous. Keeping in mind that we'd been married just 15 days, I thought, "Don't screw this up already." and so I did just that. It must've worked because that marriage lasted some 30 more years.
It is referred to by many as the greatest World Series ever, I might have to agree.
The dateline on the Star Tribune was Monday, October 28, 1991. It was now my 30th birthday.
Not a bad gift for this lifetime baseball fan. Not a bad gift at all.
I'm just sayin
The dateline on the Star Tribune was Monday, October 28, 1991. It was now my 30th birthday.
Not a bad gift for this lifetime baseball fan. Not a bad gift at all.
I'm just sayin
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