It's Friday, Oct. 25, 2024, the day of the week when I reprise a quotation intended to be uplifting or enlightening. Today's inspiring words come from humorist Larry David, a man who looks and sounds like Bernie Sanders, who introduced Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to his wife, and who often has unkind words for Donald Trump. But I'm not referencing Larry David's politics this morning. I'm harking back to something David did in 2011 to right an old wrong while restoring karmic harmony to the great game of baseball.
The Boston Red Sox, not having won a championship since 1918, came into the 1986 World Series as big underdogs to the powerful New York Mets, who'd won 108 games that season. But Boston led the Series three games to two and had young flame-thrower Roger Clemens on the mound with a 3-2 lead in the eighth inning. Then things got weird.
A series of managerial and player mistakes followed, culminating in a ground ball by the Mets' Mookie Wilson trickling under Sox first baseman Bill Buckner's glove and into right field as pandemonium erupted in Shea Stadium and the winning run scored. Buckner was the goat – and was subject to much abuse. But the gimpy first baseman shouldn't have even been on the field.
"Billy Buck" was drafted into professional baseball by the Los Angeles Dodgers directly out of Napa High School in Northern California, where he'd been a fleet-footed outfielder and star wide receiver in football. He could fly, but that aspect of his game was robbed forever on April 18, 1975, when Buckner slid hard into second base in a game against the Giants, permanently damaging his ankle ligaments.
But he loved baseball – hitting most of all – and by the time of his notorious World Series error, Buckner was a hobbled athlete who succeeded on guts and guile.
"Buck reminds me of a rodeo cowboy limping off to his pickup truck, throwing his saddle in the back and driving off to his next performance," Boston manager John McNamara told Los Angeles Times sports writer Ross Newhan before the '86 Series. "He's one of the finest competitors I've ever been around."
That admiration, while not misplaced, would prove fateful. And before Buckner's error, McNamara would make some of his own.
In the top of the eighth, with his team leading 3-2, McNamara pinch-hit rookie Mike Greenwell for Roger Clemens (yes, pitchers batted in those days). Don Baylor, sitting stoically on the bench, was the more logical choice instead of Greenwell, who struck out. Clemens had developed a blister on one of his fingers that made it hard to throw his slider. Clemens' retort was that his fast ball would have been enough. Either way, the Sox were now without their ace, and their relief pitchers were not up to the task.
The first reliever was Calvin Schiraldi, a former Met who may have been trying too hard against his old team. He promptly gave up a single, and then botched the next play, unwisely throwing to second base on a sacrifice bunt, and compounding that mental mistake by throwing the ball in the dirt. The Mets tied the game, which went on to extra innings.
In the top of the 10th, Boston's Dave Henderson homered. As the Sox gave each other high-fives, Shea Stadium, writer Christopher Ball noted, "became quiet as a library." The Sox weren't done. They mounted a rally, scoring another run, despite McNamara inexplicably not pinch-hitting Baylor for Schiraldi, who struck out. Nonetheless, it was 5-3 Red Sox, and the "Curse of the Bambino" was about to be laid to rest. Or not.
In the bottom of the inning, Schiraldi got the first two outs, and the Mets were down to their last hitter, catcher Gary Carter. NBC announced that Boston second baseman Marty Barrett was named the player of the game and Red Sox pitcher Bruce Hurst the MVP of the Series. Plastic was spread out in the visitors' locker room to protect the furniture from spilled champagne and Bob Costas began making his way down to the Red Sox clubhouse.
But the first two outs in the inning had been hard line drives, and now Gary Carter singled sharply to left field. Mets manager Davey Johnson sent pinch-hitter Kevin Mitchell to the plate. He, too, singled. Now, with a relief pitcher warming up in the bullpen, and the Shea faithful snapped back to life, Ray Knight came to the plate, and quickly got to a two-strike count. But Knight managed a soft single to center, making the score 5-4. As the Mets faithful went crazy, McNamara finally came to the mound to (finally) replace Schiraldi.
A fan watching closely would have noticed that Bill Buckner was still in the game. All season when the Red Sox were ahead, McNamara had put in Dave Stapleton as a late-inning defensive replacement for Buck. Stapleton was a former shortstop, sure-handed and nimble – and he had been on the field at the end of three games in the '86 Series.
I've always assumed McNamara left Buckner in for sentimental reasons. If so, that was misplaced loyalty. Meanwhile, new pitcher Bob Stanley promptly threw the ball past Sox catcher Rich Gedman, scoring the tying run. It was ruled a wild pitch, but the ball should have been blocked by Gedman, who seemed nervous.
At the plate for the Mets was Mookie Wilson, who battled his way – and Bill Buckner's – into baseball's unforgiving history books. With two strikes he kept fouling off pitches and on a 3-2 count hit that ominous ground ball down the first base line. There were other goats: McNamara, Schiraldi, Stanley, Gedman, right-fielder Dwight Evans (who also made an error in the game), along with the Sox hitters who stranded 14 runners that night. Plus there was a seventh game yet to come, in which the Red Sox blew a 3-0 lead (with Schiraldi again on the mound). But Bill Buckner was blamed for it all.
"Life is unfair," John F. Kennedy said at a 1962 press conference, and in that respect, baseball is very much like life. But just as baseball fans (and Americans generally) can be overly judgmental, they can be forgiving, too.
In 1990 at the age of 40, Buckner returned to JFK's hometown for a last hurrah. On opening day, he started for Boston and was given a standing ovation by the Fenway faithful. And on opening day in 2008, as the Sox unfurled their 2007 championship banner, Buckner was asked to throw out the first ball. He came from exile in Idaho to do it – and was greeted with unrestrained joy by fans who realized that dedication to the game is all they can really ask, not perfection, and that Billy Buck had always given everything he had.
Buckner, who died in 2019, wiped away tears that day and fired a perfect strike across the plate. Three years later, Larry David brought New Yorkers in on the act, at least the ones depicted on his hit show "Curb Your Enthusiasm." The setup is a New York City street scene where Larry David (played by Larry David) runs into Bill Buckner (played by Bill Buckner) where a crowd has gathered because a fire has erupted in an apartment building.
A mother is leaning out the window begging the firefighters to catch her baby. As the tension builds, she hesitates before finally throwing the kid (it's a doll) three stories below. The baby bounces off the firefighters' tarp high into the air. Buckner races out from the crowd, dives to the ground. The typical sensibility of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" would be for Buckner to drop the baby, just as he missed the ball in 1986. That does not happen. Buckner makes a miraculous save, cradling the baby safely in his arms as the New Yorkers cheer for him.
Larry David has the last word: "Nice catch, Bill!"
And that is our quote of the week.
Carl M. Cannon is the Washington bureau chief for RealClearPolitics. Reach him on X @CarlCannon.
