Great moments in sports live on through the 'Where were you when?' conversations of fans. Here's mine regarding Joe Carter's historic home run.
Has it really been 15 years since Joe Carter "Touched 'em all" to end the 1993 World Series? Judging by my whitening whiskers and paunch, I guess it has.
There are always moments that lead to the inevitable question: "Where were you when?" For the generation before mine it's usually, "Where were you when World War II ended?" or more recently "Where were you when JFK got shot?"
But for sports fans, especially those of us who grew up in and around Toronto, there really are two, and neither of them involve the Maple Leafs winning the Stanley Cup. One does involve the Leafs, though. "Where were you when Darryl Sittler scored his 10-point night?" That one's easy, I was a month shy of my 13 birthday at the time and was watching the game on TV while my parents entertained friends, a weekly tradition for many families, I suspect, back in 1977.
No, for my generation the question is, "Where were you when Joe Carter hit the home run to win the 1993 World Series?" That one is really easy. I was at the game, not working, but as a fan. And the more I thought about, with this being 15 years to the day of that great moment, all of my memories of that day came flooding back.
The year 1993 was my first as TV statistician, or third man in the booth, on all Blue Jays telecasts. It was quite a ride, and I was in Milwaukee during the final week of the regular season when the Jays clinched their fifth American League East title. When the season ended, anyone with any standing on the crews - and I certainly wasn't one of them after my just first year - had the option to purchase up to 10 tickets for each and every ALCS and World Series home game at the then named SkyDome. Luckily, Tommy Hutton, who was analyst on Jays' games for the CBC and Baton Broadcasting which showed games on CTV affiliates across Canada, was going home to South Florida when the season ended and had no use for his parcel of tickets for each of the games. As fate would have it, he offered me use of the tickets which I jumped at. That allowed me to go to each game of the Jays vanquishing of the White Sox in the ALCS and the World Series against the Phillies. That also afforded many of my family and friends an opportunity to attend a post-season game, some for the first time.
On that fateful Saturday night, with a chill in the air no doubt, 10 of us trudged off to the 'Dome, with the Jays holding a 3-2 lead in the best of seven series. Two cracks at home to defend their World Series title. Using the tickets that night were myself, my brother Dave and his son Daniel, Dave's best buddy Ted Bass down from his place north of Kingston, my roommate Ed Grundy and his then-girlfriend, now-wife Delilah, my good friend and former TSN commentator Steve Cooney and his brother Andre, and my good friend and co-worker Karen Lonz's husband Kevin and a buddy of his. I sat with Ted just past third base in 130B, Row 5, Seats 109 and 110. Dave, Daniel, Kevin and his pal sat just above the Phillies' bullpen in 106, while Ed, Dee, Steve and Andre were down the left field line in 130D.
The Jays came out flying in this one. An RBI triple by Paul Molitor scored Devon White, a sacrifice fly by Carter plated Molitor and an RBI single by Roberto Alomar drove in John Olerud for a 3-0 first inning lead. The Phillies got one back in the top of the fourth on Jim Eisenreich's RBI single. The Jays got that one back in the bottom opf the inning on Ed Sprague's sac fly and then stretched their lead to four runs on Molitor's solo home run over the Jays' bullpen in the fifth. With the excitement of another World Series championship at hand, the beers started flowing.
But in the top of the seventh, just nine outs away from retaining baseball's 'Holy Grail' the Jays bullpen had a hiccup, maybe it was my sixth beer talking, and the Phillies rallied with five runs off Jays' starter Dave Stewart, and subsequent relievers Danny Cox and Al Leiter. The four run lead was gone in the blink of an eye and the Jays trailed by one with nine outs to go.
My nerves started to get the best of me, and I left my great seats and stood behind the batter's eye in centre field, peering through a slit in the drapes that keep the lights out there from distracting the hitters. During that time, the Jays almost took the lead on the bottom of the eighth when they loaded bases with two out, but 1992 World Series MVP Pat Borders popped out to end the threat. In the top of the ninth, the great Duane Ward set down the Phillies in order to set the stage for the greatest moment in Blue Jays history.
By this time, I had moved down the right field line to gnaw on a couple of McDonald's cheeseburgers. In the time that it took to down one of them, Rickey Henderson walked, White flew out to left, and Molitor lined a single - his 12th hit of the series - to centre. Up stepped Carter and, with my heart pumping and several Labatt's products coursing through my veins, Joe blasted a 2-2 offering high to left field. Now, where I was situated, the overhang of the 200 level at SkyDome caused me to lose the flight of the ball. So I picked up Phillies' left fielder Pete Incaviglia as he drifted back onto the warning track. It was then, based on his body language, that I knew the ball was gone and I started running as the roar of the crowd became deafening. (I'd like to apologize, at this time, to the gentleman that I beaned in the head with my half-eaten second burger as I flew down the concourse).
By the time that I got out to my friends in the left field corner, which I believe was faster than Ben Johnson's 9.79 in Seoul, they told me that I had gone insane, sweating profusely with my eyes bugged out, like when Fred Flinstone thought he had a dino-peptic germ and was firing back coffee's like Jagrmeister.
Memories tend to weaken as time goes by, but not mine of that great night. Of the group that accompanied me to the game that night, two of them are no longer with us. Steve's brother Andre succumbed to AIDS a couple of years later, and my own brother Dave left us far too soon on June 15, 2003. But downstairs, amongst my many mementos from my 15 years on the baseball beat, sits my ticket from that game, autographed with a gold pen by Joe Carter and a cherished picture of Joe, Dave and I at Tiger Stadium from 1999 after Joe had retired and was working with us on Sportsnet's early broadcasts.
Sure doesn't seem like 15 years ago. Probably never will ...
