Yesterday, Mark McGwire finally came clean and confessed to using steroids during the 90s. The return of McGwire to the news, after years of being out of the spotlight, has reminded me of the greatest game I ever saw.
In the summer of 1998, I was fortunate enough to watch McGwire hit home run #62, the line-drive shot that broke Roger Maris’ previous record for home runs in a season. As Tom Verducci wrote for Sports Illustrated that summer:
The home run is America—appealing to its roots of rugged individualism and its fascination with grand scale. Americans gape at McGwire’s blasts the same way they do at Mount Rushmore, Hoover Dam and the Empire State Building. "We have," Cubs manager Jim Riggelman said before Tuesday’s game, "a fascination with power."
That summer was magical. McGwire was on a torrid pace to break one of sports’ most coveted records and one of the longest standing ones. In the second half of the baseball season, we spent every summer night rushing to the television when McGwire came up to bat. If we were barbequing, we went inside. If out to dinner, we joined the rest of the patrons to catch what was going on. Regular scheduled programs were interrupted for a live look-in on the individual at-bats of McGwire and Sammy Sosa.
Tickets became increasingly harder to come by as fans were flocking to the stadium in the hopes of catching a piece of history.
My wife at the time, Kris, knew how much I wanted to see a game at Busch Stadium and one day she called me and said, “Hey, I want to do something for your birthday. Can you be free Sunday night or Tuesday night?”
I told her I wouldn’t likely be free on Sunday evening and then she said, “Well, I might as well just tell you, I’m here at Schnucks and I’m trying to get two tickets for us to see a Cardinals game.”
“Kris, that would be awesome but I’m pretty sure they’re all sold out.”
“Well, the lady here says she can get us two seats but the only catch is that she doesn’t have two seats side-by-side. She has individual seats but the seats are one row in front of the other.”
Through the phone, I could hear the Schnucks’ customer service representative say, “Now honey, I can’t promise you these tickets will be here in the next few minutes. They’re going fast.”
I told Kris, “By all means, grab them.” And so she did. We had tickets for a game the following week, on Tuesday, September 8, 1998 against the Chicago Cubs. Friends of ours had tickets the day before, a game in which Big Mac hit the record-tying home run in the first inning. I nervously watched the rest of the game hoping that he wouldn’t hit it number 62. Fortunately, he only got one that afternoon.
The following day Kris and I made our way to St. Louis. When we were on the Metro Rail, the conductor said, “Mark my word, folks, today Big Mac will hit #62”. The atmosphere outside the stadium was electric. We found out that tickets were selling for $400. Kris was tempted to sell hers and I told her if she did, I’d meet her after the game!
We got to our seats and we were near the left-field foul pole. There were nine-seats in our rows, and Kris and I had the middle seat in both. The guy next to me said, “Now, I don’t normally do this but if Big Mac breaks the record tonight don’t be surprised if I give you a hug. We’re all family tonight.”
There was a buzz in the air when the game started. The Cardinals were playing their hated rivals, the Cubbies from Chicago, with people all over the world watching the game. Roger Maris’ family was at the game, seated near the Cardinals dugout. Flash bulbs were going off every time McGwire came up to bat.
In the bottom of the 4th inning, McGwire turned on a first-pitch fastball from Steve Traschel and sent it just over the left field wall, right below where we were seated. The record home run was his shortest shot of the year, traveling 341 feet. Pandemonium ensued. While McGwire circled the bases, people were jumping up and down. Strangers hugged and high-fived each other. They stopped play for around ten minutes or so and I ran out to the concourse to snatch up a few souvenirs from the vendors. Baseballs marked, “I Was There” were selling for $20. After the game, Commissioner Bud Selig was on hand to honor the historic achievement. When we left the stadium, commemorative editions of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch were already for sale. (That night also happened to be the first major league game of J.D. Drew, who now plays for the Boston Red Sox. He came into left field and had his first two at-bats that evening.) We stayed in St. Louis late into the night to take in the celebration before eventually returning to Columbia.
I couldn’t imagine a better birthday present for a sports fan, especially one who had cheered for the Cardinals since childhood. I told Kris it would be equivalent to getting her much coveted tickets to see Mikhail Baryshnikov perform live in some fantastic venue.
It was an unforgettable night in the history of sports.
Posted in
Family Matters,
Fun Country,
Sports,
Stories Worth a Pint and tagged
1998,
62,
baseball,
home run record,
Mark McGwire,
St. Louis Cardinals,
steroids,
Steve Traschel |
