Game Six, 2011 vs. Game Six, 1975: A Fifth Anniversary Challenge

David Freese was the hero of the 2011 World Series for the Cardinals. (via Dave Herholz)

David Freese was the hero of the 2011 World Series for the Cardinals. (via Dave Herholz)

Five years ago today, on Thursday, October 27, 2011, baseball fans received a gift. Game Six of that year’s World Series was an almost incredibly exciting game, instantly establishing itself in the first rank of great and memorable games in baseball history. One could plausibly claim in the immediate aftermath that it was the greatest baseball game ever played.

With the buffer of five years from the immediate excitement of that night, we can bring some perspective to the question. We have a better sense now of where the teams (the St. Louis Cardinals and Texas Rangers), the players, the managers, and other elements of that game fit into baseball’s history. Those matters do not affect how the game was played that night, but they do affect how it, and competing games, are viewed by baseball fans and by the public at large.

Acclaiming one game as the greatest ever played assumes some kind of consensus. Even before 2011, there wasn’t unanimity on the question, but there definitely was a plurality, even a majority. From the number of books written about the game and the teams that played it, to the survey undertaken by MLB itself, the reigning champion was Game Six of the 1975 World Series, between the Cincinnati Reds and the Boston Red Sox.

If Game Six in 2011 is to take the mantle of the Greatest Game Ever, it has to beat that Game Six from 36 years earlier. Doing so doesn’t guarantee it the crown, as there are other claimants. But if you cannot beat the disputed champ, you certainly can’t be the true champ.

I’m going to put the contenders toe-to-toe, 2011 versus 1975, to see which game was better. But that requires defining our standards, and that’s not easily done.

What Makes a Game Great?

I did my bit years ago in trying to answer this question. My Win Percentage Sum (WPS) metric tried to capture the excitement of a game* in a number, based mostly on the Win Percentage Added produced on each play of the game. A score of 300 was roughly average, the weakest games bottomed out around 100, and I judged “great” games to start at 500. While WPS, like the game itself, is theoretically infinite, 1000 is the practical limit.

* As always, I note that former THT Grand Poobah Dave Studeman was first with a WPA-based game rating system. His article “WPA in the USA” in the THT Annual 2007 introduced it. I came up with my somewhat different version independently, but gladly acknowledge that he beat me to the territory.

WPS is not perfect. Compelling pitcher’s duels can produce quite moderate scores, as they are tense rather than exciting. Also, plays with both hits and outs generally get under-scored. The system rewards back-and-forth action, not just inning-to-inning but within innings, producing a “sawtooth” pattern on a Win Expectancy chart.

Even an imperfect WPS index is a good start to identifying great games, but even a perfect index would not be the end. Several other factors go into our subjective judgments of what makes a game good, great, or the best ever.

Chief among these is when the game happens. In total isolation, the most exciting game ever was probably some regular-season contest that’s long gotten lost among the myriads of games played. In practical terms, it’s a postseason game, probably in the World Series, probably late in the series, and likely both, that takes the prize. The sabermetric term is Championship Leverage Index (cLI), using Sky Andrecheck’s term this time instead of Dave Studenmund’s. The best game ever would have some ideal combination of WPS and cLI.

Another meaningful factor—how meaningful is arguable—is how memorable the participants are. Not just the teams and their historic place in baseball, but the players, the managers, and others, and their prominence in baseball history. It’s not an objective measure, though someone could probably invent an index for it, but in subjective terms it makes a difference.

Another factor would be the execution of the game itself. By “great game” we usually mean an exciting game, but a game with superb plays and no glaring mistakes should have an edge over one where dropped flies and wild throws produce the excitement.

I will also include managerial moves in the execution category. Game Six of the 1986 World Series was famously exciting, but missteps by both Davey Johnson and John McNamara marred the game. (Not that physical mistakes didn’t also, and not just the one you’re thinking of.) Perfection’s too much to ask of the greatest game ever, but you’d like it pretty close.

One minor factor would be the noteworthiness of the rest of the series (for a candidate game in the postseason). A great game surrounded by snoozers will suffer a bit. Another minor element would be narratives, the story lines leading into and out of the game. This could be combined with how memorable the participants are, but I’ll keep it separate.

A Hardball Times Update
Goodbye for now.

With those criteria in hand, let’s look at these two extraordinary games.

Tale of the Tape (or Disc)

I’ll go category by category, starting with championship leverage.

cLI: Both contests were Game Sixes in the World Series. Both were won at home by the team trailing three games to two. There isn’t the slightest edge to give here.

WPS: Reds-Red Sox scored an outstanding 755.2 in my WPS system, the fifth-highest ever for a World Series game and second-highest for one this late in a series. Number one on both counts, though, was Rangers-Cardinals at 898.8. Worth noting is that the 2011 game was one inning shorter, so it did not benefit from the accumulation of more WPS that necessarily happens each inning in my system.

Part of the difference is the early 3-0 lead the Red Sox took that held until the fifth, suppressing big WPS scores for a while. The Rangers had a three-run lead late in their game, but the Cards chipped away in the eighth, tied it in the ninth with a two-run comeback, and re-tied it through 10 with another two-run comeback. The clear edge here is to 2011, if we can be sure it was a real game and not some Hollywood fabrication.

Execution: The 1975 game had one error; the 2011 game had five. There were two wild pitches in 2011, one per side. Each game had one infield misplay not ruled an error. 1975 also had two memorable outfield plays: Foster’s throw to Bench that kept Boston from winning in the ninth, and Dwight Evans’s miracle catch in the 11th that kept Cincinnati off the board. The most memorable outfield play in 2011 was Nelson Cruz not quite running down David Freese’s game-tying triple. (Cruz would eventually be replaced defensively.)

The errors in 2011 did have one positive effect. Four of the five contributed directly to a run scoring, two for each team. The game was very tight through six innings, neither team getting a lead of more than one run, and those unearned runs did keep the pot boiling.

Still, it was not ideal baseball. The Foster and Evans plays were ideal baseball, and the two miscues that did happen in 1975 had no effect on the game and are long forgotten. The miscues in 2011 were the narrative of the game with the national TV broadcast team of Joe Buck and Tim McCarver, at least until the Cardinals’ stirring comeback produced a better one. The strong edge in on-field execution stands with 1975.

Execution in the dugout is its own matter, and there are things to criticize in both games. Sparky Anderson and Tony LaRussa both ran themselves out of players in games that went to extra innings. For Anderson, Captain Hook himself, it was the pitchers. For LaRussa, Sparky’s modern equivalent in bullpen usage, it was ironically not.

Sparky yanked starter Gary Nolan after two innings, had his third pitcher in by the third frame, and used seven hurlers total by the time the contest rolled into extras. This, mind you, was with a 10-man staff, standard for the era. Don Gullett was reserved to start Game Seven, and Clay Kirby, unbeknownst to the general public, was hurt and not available. (He was seen tossing in the bullpen in the top of the 12th, but this was apparently bluff: the pitcher’s spot was on deck when the inning ended.)

That left just Pat Darcy, who came in as Cincinnati’s eighth and last pitcher for the bottom of the 10th. He threw two perfect innings on 27 pitches, but the effort and the terrible pressure left him sapped. Johnny Bench, warming up Darcy for the 12th, concluded they wouldn’t get out of that inning. But there was no other option by that time, and Carlton Fisk made Bench’s premonition come true.

LaRussa used the first of his five bench players when Jon Jay batted for Fernando Salas (Tony’s second pitcher) in the fifth. He had to burn his second, and his last outfielder, after six when Matt Holliday jammed his finger hard getting picked off third base. A double-switch in the top of the seventh used up a third. Then, after announcing the fourth to pinch-hit, Texas changed relievers, so LaRussa pulled back the fourth and sent up his fifth and last.

Granted, the last maneuver was in the bottom of the eighth, two runs down and five outs from the Rangers celebrating on his home field. But LaRussa emptying his bench in a game where he’d already lost a starter to injury was an act of desperation more than calculation.

It looked like it would cost him dearly. After tying the game in the ninth, St. Louis fell behind by two again in the 10th—and the pitcher’s spot was due up third. Daniel Descalso and Jon Jay both managed to single ahead of the pitcher, giving LaRussa a serious choice over which pitcher would pinch-hit. Amazingly, he repeated his previous maneuver! After announcing Edwin Jackson, presumably to swing away (he was 8-for-30 in 2011), he sent up Kyle Lohse instead to bunt.

Both skippers fell prey to over-managing, but neither would pay the full price. Anderson lost Game Six, but won the Series the next night. LaRussa’s pinch-hitting profligacy vanished in the glow of victory, both from that night and in Game Seven. Not even winners are perfect. As regards this element of game execution, I call the managing a draw. The overall edge remains with Cincinnati.

Rest of the Series: The 1975 Series was already close to a classic before Game Six came around. Three of the first five games were decided by one run, one in extras, and a fourth had been a scoreless tie through the seventh-inning stretch. Game Seven would itself be very good, tied going to the ninth, but sadly eclipsed by the titanic contest that preceded it.

The 2011 Series was pretty good before Game Six. There were two one-run games, a two-run affair, and the 16-7 blowout was spiced by Albert Pujols tying the record with three homers in a World Series game. Game Seven, regrettably, was middling at best. By WPS, the 1975 Series totaled 3069.3 points, to 2840.1 for 2011. Objective and subjective views agree: 1975 by a neck.

People and Teams in History: The Big Red Machine is one of the most fabled teams in baseball lore, and with its 210 wins and two titles in 1975-76, has some claim to be the greatest team ever. The Cardinals were but a 90-win team in 2011, and only barely earned a wild-card berth with an 18-8 September charge coupled with an Atlanta Braves 9-18 collapse. While 2011 began a string of five straight playoff appearances for St. Louis, it followed a four-year stretch where they made the postseason just once.

The 1975 Red Sox and 2011 Texas Rangers are more closely matched. Boston had a good team that stayed competitive, but earned just one tie-breaker game while still recognizably close to the ’75 squad. Texas was in its second straight Fall Classic, but in the three years previous and succeeding had a total of one postseason game. Taken all together, the 1975 teams are the more noteworthy.

Five players plus one manager from the 1975 Series have made the Hall of Fame. The Reds have provided Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, and Tony Perez, plus Sparky Anderson; the Red Sox have sent Carl Yastrzemski and Carlton Fisk*. Pete Rose is famously not in the Hall, but that’s clearly not due to his play, so I will count him as well. That makes seven figures from ’75 at a Cooperstown level.

* Hall-of-Famer Jim Rice was on the ’75 BoSox, but an injury kept him out of the Series, so he does not count.

Judging Hall-of-Famers for 2011 is far trickier. Only manager Tony LaRussa has gotten in so far. Not enough time has passed for any players, many still playing, to be considered. I can, though, take educated guesses as to who will get their plaques.

Albert Pujols was already a lock in 2011. Adrián Beltré’s superb late career has almost certainly (please, Lord, no steroids) punched his ticket. Yadier Molina had an offensive surge that made him look plausible, but that and his chances are fading. Ian Kinsler has some very good WAR numbers, but he’d need a Beltré-like late career to have a shot. Elvis Andrus has eight good years under his belt, but he’ll have to reach another level to give himself a chance. At most, I can wring three Hall-of-Fame players from the 2011 Series, plus LaRussa, making it seven to four for 1975.

One doesn’t have to be in the Hall, or to have played like it, to be remembered. I did a count of Game Six participants who performed at a high, or at least noteworthy, level. I will spare readers the details and just say that my personal count was 10-9 in 1975’s favor. That doesn’t shift the equation: the margin we got for Cooperstown players holds up. Edge to 1975.

The Narratives: I am surprised at the number of similarities these games have in specific details. Maybe I shouldn’t be: maybe any two randomly chosen games will have coincidental matches of this kind. But let me reel of a few, and see if you agree.

A player gets badly hurt, but shakes it off, stays in, and plays effectively. In 1975, it was Boston’s Fred Lynn, who crashed into the center-field wall chasing a Ken Griffey triple. He stayed slumped against the wall for several minutes—he’d later say he briefly feared his back was broken—but continued to play and got a crucial hit in the eighth. In 2011, Ranger Mike Napoli rolled his ankle so hard coming into second base that one cannot watch the replay without wincing. He somehow stayed in, would later make a huge pickoff throw to third, and collected two more walks and a hit to round out a great night at the plate.

A pivotal late homer comes from a batter whose great promise was undermined by drugs and alcohol. In 1975, Boston’s Bernie Carbo hit the three-run bomb that tied it in the eighth. He had been NL Rookie of the Year in 1970 with Cincinnati, thanks to Sparky Anderson straightening him out in the minors, but he backslid and the Reds traded him away. Carbo said he was both high and drunk when he hit that home run. One can only marvel at the muscle memory he must have had.

In 2011, it was Josh Hamilton who untied the game with a two-run blast in the top of the 10th. Hamilton’s terrible struggles with substance abuse are more familiar to readers. 2011 was during the years when he was clean, the eye of his storm that saw him win an MVP award. There was more to his homer, which I will touch on later.

A team tries to break a championship drought over half a century long. It had been 57 years for Boston in 1975. It wasn’t quite The Curse yet, but a third World Series loss in seven would get some people thinking that way. Texas was trying to win its first title in its 51-year existence. At least some old Red Sox fans had seen their team win it all; no Rangers fan ever had. Or has.

But there was actually more along those lines happening in 1975. Cincinnati hadn’t won a World Series in 35 years. Worse, their team had been conspicuously falling short in October since 1970 and their Series loss to Baltimore. Some journalists speculated that Sparky Anderson was going to be fired if his team didn’t win it all in ’75.

A pitcher’s sacrifice bunt, with runners on first and second, is hit so hard it goes over a charging infielder’s head and drops safely—but the play is still made at first. That’s pretty esoteric, but they were interesting plays. Tiant made the bunt in 1975, popping it over first baseman Tony Perez, who still got it to Denny Doyle in time. Kyle Lohse had the 2011 bunt that went over Adrian Beltré, but Elvis Andrus swerved from his wheel-play dash, fielded the bunt, and got it to first.

Rain pushes back Game Six. One day in 2011, three long days in 1975. Just that much more anticipation and tension.

The shadow of a longtime player’s potential departure from his team hovers over the game. Game Six in 2011 could have been Albert Pujols’s final game as a Cardinal, a fact made clear by signs in the stands and mentions by the announcers. It ended up his next-to-last, as he’d depart in free agency for the Angels. At Game Six in 1975, speculation was rife that 12-season Red Sock Rico Petrocelli could be playing his last game before retiring. He’d end up staying one more year in Boston.

Well-liked as Petrocelli was in Boston, Pujols was a much bigger deal. 2011 gets that edge in the narrative column, which was what this section was supposed to be about, right? The double-drought narrative, plus the Big Red Machine’s doubted ability to win it all (doubts supported, remember, by the game’s result), give 1975 a tally. What other game and Series narratives could tip the balance?

For 1975, the best one I have left is the saga of Luis Tiant’s parents getting permission to leave Cuba to watch their son play. Luis Sr. and Isabel actually arrived in August: the Series was a giant bonus. Game Six footage shows both in the stands, faces aglow with joy and pride. They never returned to Cuba. Their son, ironically, did.

For 2011, I know of rather more. There was Josh Hamilton’s long homer drought, born of a groin strain, that he broke dramatically in the 10th inning. There were Nelson Cruz’s two hamstring injuries from the regular season that left him just fatally slow going back on David Freese’s triple in the ninth to tie the game. There were Cardinal Lance Berkman’s dismissive comments about the Rangers from early in the year, that had come back to bite him hard.

At higher echelons, there was Texas Rangers president Nolan Ryan, shown frequently in the stands that night. It had been so long since his lone championship with the 1969 Mets, one could forget that and think he was chasing his first along with his old, and current, team. In the opposing dugout, Tony LaRussa was just a fragment of a season from passing John McGraw for the second most wins ever by a manager. (Connie Mack was still over a thousand wins ahead, not even in the picture.) The result of this game and the next night’s, though, moved LaRussa to quit while on top. McGraw is still in second, likely never to be caught.

The 2011 Series comes out ahead in overarching narratives. About time they took one.

The Winner Is …

The objective measure of game excitement that WPS is (I hope) says Game Six in 2011 was more exciting than Game Six in 1975. Almost every level of analysis after that, though, adds weight to the 1975 end of the scale. How one answers the question depends on how deep one goes.

Add in playing and managerial execution, and 1975 eats up much of 2011’s lead, perhaps all. Throw in the rest of the surrounding World Series, and 1975 inches up. Throw in the history and the narratives, and 1975 gains a little more. Taking everything together, you probably have to give it to 1975.

Observing the games’ respective places in public consciousness, that’s probably where it will stay. The television audience for Game Six in 1975 was a 33.3 Nielsen rating and a 55 share, coming out to about 43 million viewers. For Game Six in 2011, the numbers were a 12.7 rating, a 21 share, and 21.065 million viewers. Twice as many people were watching in 1975, in a country with about two-thirds the population of 2011.

This is far less a decline in baseball’s popularity at work than the atomization of American popular culture. An explosion of TV viewing options that was just starting in the mid-1970s tore at the web of common cultural experiences that had been strengthening since the rise of sound movies and radio networks. The advent of the Internet in the 1990s accelerated this trend. Today, there are few cultural events that Americans experience together.

What that means is that the 1975 World Series came at a peak in American cultural cohesion. A historic game then could implant itself in public perceptions more deeply than a similar game could today—or five years ago.

So even if my personal belief—that the 2011 game was that tiny bit greater than 1975’s—is somehow objectively true, it wouldn’t matter. The established place of the 1975 game is too strong for a recent game to supplant if it is only arguably better. If Game Six in 1975 wore the crown before 2011, it still does today.

It isn’t baseball’s fault. It isn’t baseball fans’ fault. One can argue whether there is any fault at all. If it means that people at large won’t look back on Game Six in 2011 the way they did and do for Game Six in 1975, though, it is at least a pity. Not that Carlton Fisk won’t be thought of less, but that David Freese won’t be thought of more.

References and Resources


A writer for The Hardball Times, Shane has been writing about baseball and science fiction since 1997. His stories have been translated into French, Russian and Japanese, and he was nominated for the 2002 Hugo Award.
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John
7 years ago

I am admittedly biased, a Cardinals fan who will never forget 2011, but here are few points in favor of 2011. They are mostly narrative though, so I’m not sure it would change the outcome.

-The hero, David Freese, grew up in St. Louis. That part of the story was straight out of Hollywood.

-Of the two respective game broadcast calls, Buck’s was special because it echoed his own father’s same homerun call from the 1991 World Series. That Buck himself was working in the same town as his Hall of Fame announcing father, and his own hometown, is just icing on the cake.

-Just the fact that the Cardinals were even there was a minor miracle. They stood 10 1/2 games out of the wildcard on August 24, overcame that deficit to win the final playoff slot on the final day, then won a thrilling decisive game 5 on the road against the juggernaut Phillies.

As I said, these are narrative items so I don’t think they tip any scales. But I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t mention them.

garywmaloney
7 years ago

Excellent piece in its clear writing and the weighing of the pros and cons. Seems to me the real test is these two games vs. 1960 Game 7 (which, thanks to Bing Crosby, we now can savor on television). Bill James called 1960 Game 7 maybe the greatest game of all time — worth a further article along these lines, I should think.

Scott
7 years ago
Reply to  garywmaloney

I think you’re probably right that Game 7 in 1960 was probably a better game than either of those two. It was so great that it got a player into the hall of fame for his contribution. But is it better than pre-television (and radio) games? Game 8 of the 1912 World Series was certainly a great game, with the Red Sox scoring two off of Christy Mathewson to win the game (thanks to Snodgrass’s muff). It’s really impossible to compare games across eras.

Is 2011 Game 6 better than 2014 Game 7? The games were so different that it’s hard to compare, but I’d probably take Bumgarner over Freese

bucdaddy
7 years ago
Reply to  Scott

As a longtime Pirates fan, I was going to ask where 1960 Game 7 fell. Those two teams were probably a match in star power with the 1975 game (Mantle, Berra, Ford, Stengel etc. vs. Clemente, Maz, Face etc.).

I will accept, however, that it probably only came to be because Stengel mismanaged his rotation for the Series so that Ford only got two starts.

I watched the game in a theater right before the DVD came out, with maybe 50 other fans, and it was amazing how much tension I felt, even knowing the outcome.

I’ll also note that game was played in about 2 1/2 hours, unlike the four-hour slogs we have to endure in playoff baseball today.

Shane Tourtellotte
7 years ago
Reply to  bucdaddy

Good to see you here again, Bucdaddy. Game Seven in 1960 was a great one, and we are so fortunate to have it available to us today. It doesn’t score as high as ’75 or ’11 on my WPS scale, but being a Game Seven, with everything on the line, gives it extra juice. Perhaps you have to love the Pirates, or hate the Yankees, to make it #1, but that’s a pretty fair number of fans, so yes, it’s in the mix.

It’s just that, whenever the debate is brought up, 1975 is always in there. If you’re always arguing why something other than X is the best, X is probably the best. But only probably: the debate goes on.

bucdaddy
7 years ago

Thanks, Shane. I’m always around, I just pick my spots for comments.

I actually don’t remember anything about the 1960 series, having been 3 years old at the time, and most of the other games I’ve ever been to or seen sort of blur together, but I can remember exactly where I was and who I was with the night of 1975 Game 6. I was a college freshman and I missed the first half of the game because I was having chicken dinner in the apartment of two lesbian friends. I bused back to campus and started watching when the game went to extra innings. I was sitting in the dorm hallway watching through the open door of someone’s room, a room full of us Sox rooters next door to a roomful of Reds rooters, when Fisk homered. A lot of pounding on the wall in between commenced.

Funny how I have to think hard to recall what I had for lunch yesterday, but that memory is still sharp 40 years later.

Carl
7 years ago

Awesome article Shane. I do feel that 1986 game 6 would beat them both as far as World Series game 6’s though, but that’s probably because I am a Mets fan and also based on the dramatic comeback.

However both games here (and the ’86 game) still had a game 7 to play. How would the 1978 Yankee Red Sox game compare in your index? That was a true win or home home for both teams, and has also been called the greatest game ever.

Marc Schneider
7 years ago

How about Game 7 in 1991? Two worst-to-first teams, game is scoreless into extra innings. Jack Morris pitches all 10 innings.

Joe Pancake
7 years ago

The thing that brings Game 6 1975 down a level in my book is that the team who won the game ultimately lost the series, so the result of the game effectively didn’t matter. Of course, nobody knew this at the time it was being played, but in retrospect this drags down it’s cachet a significant amount for me.

My top three games:
1. Game 7 1960
2. Game 6 2011
3. Game 5 1995 (ALDS)

You probably have to be a Mariners fan to agree with me about #3.

Shane Tourtellotte
7 years ago
Reply to  Joe Pancake

Joe, if anything it is the opposite effect for me with the 1975 game. It was a shame both teams could not win, but in a sense both did. Boston won the battle; Cincinnati won the war. Both get to take pride in what they accomplished. For the 2011 Rangers (and the 1960 Yankees, and the 1986 Red Sox, and the 1991 Braves), there isn’t that salve for the pain of defeat.

John Thacker
7 years ago

In 1991, everybody got walk off wins and extra inning wins. That series was utterly ridiculous, five one run games, four games won in the final at-bat, and three extra innings games. Largest number of total innings in a World Series.

Will
7 years ago

Enjoyable article, but if Tony Perez had gotten it to Denny Doyle (getting ready to move to the on deck circle), Fisk might never have had chance to hit his home run. I think the ’75 game should get points for its effect on the growth of baseball after the moribund early 1970s. Attendance started to grow dramatically in the late ’70s and the Fisk highlight and the overall excitement of game 6 and the rest of the series played a real factor in that.

Philip
7 years ago

If playoff games other than the World Series are to be considered, then 1951 game 3 Dodgers/Giants is right up there with the Maz game.

As a Red Sox fan, our three championship winning games this century and of course eliminating the Yankees in 2004 are right at the top from a pleasing-outcome point of view.

But as for 2011 (I was rooting for the Cardinals), that has to be the most exciting WS game since Game 6 in 1975.

Of course, had the rain held off another 45 minutes or so on October 12th, Bill Lee would have slammed the door on the Reds, Boston would have taken a 2-0 series lead and Fisk’s homerun nine days later would have been a series-winning one.

Raif Adam
7 years ago

Curious who the great players are in Shane’s count of 10 from the 1975 World Series. Certainly they would have included Fred Lynn, the AL MVP, and George Foster, the NL MVP that year. And Luis Tiant, starting Sox pitcher in that game who has frequently come close to HOF enshrinement.
I can’t help but be biased for that game after being fortunate enough to have purchased my standing room ticket on the street outside the Park just as the game was starting. A game filled with unforgettable memories.

Marc Schneider
7 years ago
Reply to  Raif Adam

I assume you mean Joe Morgan rather than George Foster as NL MVP.

Njguy73
7 years ago

If the Yankees, Mets, or Red Sox had taken part in Game 6 Year 2011, there’d be four books, three HBO documentaries, and a feature film about it.

But it was the Rangers and Cardinals, so who care.

GFrankovich
7 years ago
Reply to  Njguy73

You are right on that.

NVAngel
7 years ago

I may have missed this in the article, but weren’t the Cards down to their last strike twice? That’s got to count for something.

Being an Angels fan, my vote would go to game six in 2002. The Angels came back from a five-run deficit, down three games to two, to win their only World Series after years of heartbreak–and against the Barry Bonds-led Giants.

Marc Schneider
7 years ago
Reply to  NVAngel

Interestingly, the Cardinals were also down to their last strike twice in Game 5 of the Division series against the Nationals.

55 Dodgers
7 years ago

What is everyone talking about? Are you guys deluded? Nothing beat game six of the 2011 World Series and I am saying that as a Dodger fan.

The Cardinals were down to their last freaking strike in the ninth before Freeze’s triple. They were down to their last freaking strike in tenth before Berkman’s base hit.

Then, of course, Freeze’s shot. “We will see you tomorrow night.”

Game 6 of the 2011 World Series was the best baseball game of my life. Nothing beats it and I wish I could relive it all again as I did that night in my college dorm room.

Alfred Postle
7 years ago

Regarding the Tiant bunt, wouldn’t Perez throw to Joe Morgan at first base to retire El Tiante.

Sabertooth
7 years ago

Love this article, and all of the games recalled.

The Dave Henderson game in 1986 between the Red Sox and Angels deserves a mention.

ruby singh
6 years ago

Excellent piece in its clear writing and the weighing of the pros and cons. Seems to me the real test is these two games vs. 1960 Game 7 (which, thanks to Bing Crosby, we now can savor on television). Bill James called 1960 Game 7 maybe the greatest game of all time — worth a further article along these lines, I should think.