It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times

To paraphrase an ancient writer of some note, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” for me this past weekend. Which all came to a head on Tuesday.

Saturday was the worst of times. I had a growing interest in three games. Tampa Bay-Yankees at 1:00. Franklin and Marshall visiting Baltimore for a date with Johns Hopkins, ranked #14 in D III Football. And Rutgers, coming off a promising showing at Michigan, hosting the rough and tough Ohio State Buckeyes at SHI Stadium. 

The Bronx Bombers were playing for their playoff lives this weekend. They were in control after defeating Toronto on the road on Thursday night. Win on Friday and they would virtually clinch home field in the AL Wild Card. 

The Yankees entered the weekend ahead of Boston, Toronto and fast charging Seattle. But they also had the toughest opponent—Tampa Bay, the A.L. East winners.

There is no love lost between the two squads. So Tampa would have loved to derail the Yankees while prepping the upcoming playoffs where the Rays would host the winner of the Wild Card game on Tuesday night. Additionally, Tampa was shooting for 100 wins, which was a nice sounding figure nearly always a symbol of success. 

The Rays were the superior team for the first two games. Never mind that the Yankees had ben playing great on their final road trip, sweeping the Red Sox at Fenway behind the demoralizing homers from Giancarlo Stanton’s bat, then taking two out of three games in unfriendly Toronto—and losing the middle game of the three game set when they should have won that game too. 

No, the heady roll which the Yankees took into the final series didn’t matter one iota.  They were facing the top team in the American League. 

On Friday night, the Yankees fell behind 2-1 early. Then Domingo German, former starter who was just back from a lengthy layoff due to injury, put men on base in the ninth inning. Manager Aaron Boone then brought rookie Albert Abreu into a high stress situation and he surrendered a single to the Rays’ stellar center fielder, Kevin Kiermaier. 4-1 Tampa. 

New York initiated a comeback, showing heart and grit in the process. Aaron Judge and Stanton were in the middle of this rally. Even the enigmatic Joey Gallo, who was hiding around .160 since his arrival from Texas at the trade deadline, masterfully executed a bunt single to the left side, overcoming the shift which put four players in the outfield and only one infielder on the left side

Veteran Brett Gardner, forced into a larger role than ever expected when Aaron Hicks went down early in the season, contributed with a clutch single to shallow right field. Gardner is the last link to the final Yankees World Series win way back in 2009. He became a leader on a team which needed leadership, even with the talent level so high, demonstrating by his actions what the Yankee way had been. 

But then the other side of the Yankees emerged. Gary Sanchez and Roughned Odor both struck out with tow runners on base to end the game. Tampa emerged as winners by a score of 4-3. 

The Yankees played hard and there was hope. Even if the Red Sox downed the Nationals and the Jays beat up on the lowly Orioles. At least Seattle had lost to the Angels at home.

Saturday was a beautiful day. The hope of the previous night’s rally was on the minds of fans like me. Reliable lefty starter Jordan Montgomery was on the mound. Just one more victory to clinch a Wild Card spot.

Except that Montgomery was shelled, with the Rays’ second baseman Brandon Lowe putting on a batting clinic during the game. Lowe slugged 3 homers to raise his season total to 39. He drove in 7 runs. Catcher Mike Zunino swatted number 33  and Austin Meadows slugged number 27. Tampa collected 19 hits in the 12-2 pummeling. The Yankees were held to 4 hits, scoring one of their runs on the 250th home run of Anthony Rizzo, the late season pickup from the Cubs.

Not to worry. There was Game 162. Surely the Yankees could win on Sunday. However, it didn’t help that the Red Sox won again in Washington, the Jays clobbered the Orioles and Seattle downed the Angels. 

During the Tampa Bay onslaught, I turned my attention to the Franklin and Marshall road game at #14 Johns Hopkins. F&M was struggling at 1-3, having only defeated Mc Daniel while losing close game at Lebanon Valley then in OT to Susquehanna, one of the top teams in the Centennial Conference. However, the Diplomats were coming off of a pasting by the Ursinus Bears, a team which had upset then-eighth ranked Muhlenberg.

Given the track record of F&M against the Blue Jays (yes, there were a lot of Blue Jays on my Saturday), which included an F&M win in their last meeting in Baltimore in 2019, I had plenty of optimism. Sure, JHU had run through their opposition, handily downing those Ursinus Bears while also annihilating Juniata 77-0. Still, I had a good feeling. Like I did when I turned on the YES Network broadcast for the Yankees game. 

F&M fell behind 13-0, then managed to trail 23-10 at the half. And that was it for the Diplomats. Hopkins regrouped and acted like the powerhouse that it seems to be, scoring 29 unanswered points in the third quarter. Final score: JHU 66, F&M 10. 

There I was—0 and 2 for the day. The Rays demolition had not yet ben completed when F&M fell to Hopkins, but it was a fait accompli. 

So I turned my attention to the Rutgers game, a 3:30 start. With the struggles that Ohio State had, losing at home to Oregon and being tested in their opening game at Minnesota, this appeared to be a more vulnerable Buckeyes team than in the past. I knew they had zip tied the Akron Zips in their last game before traveling to Piscataway. 

Still, I felt that the Michigan game of a week ago had shown that Rutgers was playing better ball than last season, when in his first year back on the Banks of the ‘ol Raritan, Head Coach Greg Schiano’s team mustered a surprising 3-6 mark. RU had actual chances to tie the Wolverines, and they certainly weren’t outplayed, having shut down Michigan’s powerful running game in the second half of the game while considerably out rushing Michigan in the process. 

That was all for naught. Ohio State scored quickly on the Scarlet Knights. Trick plays didn’t work for RU, nor did much else. QB Noah Vedral had not tossed an interception leading up to the game. That went by the wayside. The vaunted RU defense was shredded. Final score was 52-13. I gave up on this game early.

My Saturday was crushing. Three defeats. Not even by close scores. What was Sunday going to bring?

My wife and I journeyed to Met Life Stadium to see the Jets host the Tennessee Titans,  led by QB Ryan Tannehill and punishing RB Derrick Henry. I wasn’t overly optimistic. New York, behind rookie QB Zach Wilson, looked ineffectual versus Denver on the previous Sunday. In fact, it looked like it was going to be a long season ahead. Perhaps worse than 2020, which was abysmal.

But there were signs that I didn’t full appreciate. The Titans went into the game without their two top receivers. The Titans had beaten Seattle in OT and downed the Colts. They also were punished by Arizona in the opener. Experts assumed that Head Coach Mike Vrabel’s team was trending towards victory and that the stop in New Jersey was going to result in another win. 

What I learned just before kickoff was that the Jets actually had a good record playing Tennessee in the past, which included a winning record at home against the visitors. In fact the Jets had won the prior two encounters in the Meadowlands. 

Moreover, I had pulled out all of the stops for this contest and the Yankees game. While I wore a Jets T shirt, I had on my Yankees home jersey and a Yankees cap. My wife wore another Jets t shirt and she had on our white Jets jersey. When we arrived at our seats, we learned the Jets were adorned in their white jerseys, too. 

The Jets didn’t make it easy. They kind of kept Henry in check. The defense was solid, not spectacular. New York overcame an early Tennessee lead behind spectacular play from Wilson. The Jets QB looked like the #2 draft pick and his talent was finally on display—even if he made some rookie mistakes which could have cost the team the game. 

Nonetheless, the Jets went down the field in OT. They should have scored from the 1 yard line and ended the game. But one of Wilson’s gaffes cost the team and the Jets settled for a FG. The crowd in the half-filled arena was loud.

Tennessee drove down the field. The defense stiffened. The Titans had to settle for a field goal attempt to tie the score in the last minutes of the overtime period. The kick sailed wide and the Jets won the game. Euphoria shot through Met Life Stadium.

We sat in our car, waiting out the inevitable traffic jam. We were glued to the Yankees radio broadcast of the game with Tampa. Boston was losing. Toronto had won. Seattle was going down. The Yankees could secure home field and a playoff berth.

Except that the Bombers were mired in a 0-0 game, unable to hit the Rays pitching once more. New York managed only 4 hits on Saturday. Through 8 innings, the Rays had again kept the Yankees in check. 

The Yankees competed hard in this game. The pitchers kept Tampa in check, allowing only 5 hits. Third baseman Gio Urshela ran down a pop up and disappeared into the Rays dugout, holding onto the ball while suffering a banged up body. It was highly reminiscent of the Derek Jeter dive into the stands against the Red Sox.

In the bottom of the ninth, the Yankees came to life. With Tyler Wade dancing off of third base, Judge delivered a shot up the middle, which deflected off the pitcher’s glove and Wade slid under the throw by Lowe to put the Yankees in the post-season.

Within an hour’s time, the Jets and Yankees had lifted my spirits from the doldrums of the previous day. Even Boston’s comeback to win at Washington didn’t diminish my elation.

Yes, the Yankees would stink at Fenway two nights later, meekly going out in the Wild Card game. Gerrit Cole looked horrible and the relief pitching didn’t quite hold. And let’s hoot at third base coach Phil Nevin for sending Aaron Boone to try to score from first base after a blast by Stanton ricocheted from the Green Monster in left center field. Hold Judge at third and the Yankees could have scored and narrowed the game to a 3-2 deficit. Instead, that move sealed their fate. Season over, mercifully.

For a moment, I want to return to memory lane. On October 9, 1971, I drove from D.C. to Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, lured by an article in The Washington Post noting that there were a limited number of tickets still available for the World Series between the Orioles and Pittsburgh Pirates.

I purchased an”obstructed view’ seat, which the ticket seller told me would not really hinder my view. I sat underneath the overhang from the second deck behind first base. 

I was treated to a gem of a game. Orioles starter Dave Mc Nally, one of four 20 game winners on the team, masterfully shut down the Bucs on 3 hits in pitching a complete game. Hall of Famer Frank Robinson connected on a solo shot. Merv Rettemund slugged two blasts and the O’s emerged winners by a score of 5 to 3, to my, and the 53,000 attendees’ delight. 

This was the only World Series game I have eve attended. What was even more memorable was the throw made by Pirates star right fielder Roberto Clemente. He caught a ball on the warning track in deep right then wheeled and fired a laser to third base on the fly. It was like the ball had been shot out of a cannon. I have never seen anything more impressive.

Forty-five years ago on October 12th, I was in the upper stands at Yankee Stadium for the American League Championship Series Game 4 between the Yankees and the Kansas City Royals. On that cool night in the Bronx, I watched Catfish Hunter lose to Doug Bird despite two homers from third baseman Greg Nettles. 

I left the next day for Madison, Wisconsin, where I would reconnect with my Washington Semester buddy Chris, who had graduated Baldwin-Wallace College, and was a D III All American high jumper. I would have one of the most memorable weekends of my 25 year old life.

I watched the Chris Chambliss home run which won the series for New York, one day removed from being inside of the Stadium. I went to my only college hockey game, where I saw the Wisconsin Badgers down Michigan in a thrilling match. Badger Bob Johnson was the coach, and he had  his son, Mark, a future Olympian and New Jersey Devils player, on the ice. The Badgers won the NCAA title in 1977 and Johnson was WCHA rookie of the year. I even had my first taste of dee dish pizza and loved it. 

And on Saturday, October 16, I was in Camp Randall Stadium when Ohio State came into town. The weather had turned cold on Friday and I was unprepared—the weather was raw and windy when I ran outdoors on Friday, it was cold and the temperature had reached the freezing mark on Friday night. I am sure that the exposure to the cold led me to be quite sick on the return flight to Newark.

Ohio State soundly defeated the undermanned Badgers. I recall having a cold Coors beer on my way to the stadium which actually warmed me for two quarters. 

The spirit in and around the stadium captivated me. Mascot Bucky Badger tooled around the Madison streets in a fire engine. The marching band played the fight song in its journey to the ballpark. To me, a D III fan, this was heaven. This was what college football was all about. Pageantry and tradition. 

And one other thing. There was a big party afterwards. Which was capped off by a 10:30 P.M. broadcast of Saturday Night Live. Which was my first exposure to the program, and I instantly fell in love with it. 

This week in my history was one memorable one. I was so fortunate to experience events like that in my life. October has been very good to me. 

I read an article which pointed out the fact that New York teams were not champions recently. The Giants were the last team to win a title, and that was in 2011. The Yankees drought went back to 2009. The Rangers, Knicks, Nets, Jets and Islanders have not won anything—the Rangers were winners in 1994, the Jets in 1969 and the Knicks in 1973. The Nets haven’t won a title since they entered the NBA and the Islanders famine is back to the 1980’s. Add in the WNBA’s Liberty, which has won a title at all, and the New York sports scene, since the run of the Jeter-led Yankees has been barren. 

I seem to feel some sadness for the Cubs fans with their “curse.” Yet they won in 2016. We in New York, with so many teams, haven’t had even that kind of modest success. 

Yes, we have had many playoff teams. But no champions in the last 10 seasons. Nary a one. 

To end the this rambling, let’s return to the quote. Here it is in its entirety: 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the season of despair.”

Should the New York teams suddenly start winning, like they did on Sunday, and F&M and RU join in, it would surely scare the Dickens out of me. Even if that phrase originated from Shakespeare.