Game 163 And Other Rambles

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October 6th, 2016

Game 163
Game 163 (click on any photo to enlarge)

I bet the vast majority of the people reading this blog have absolutely no idea what they were doing on this date, October 6, in 2009. I will never forget, and it’s a very good thing. Barbara Doyle and I felt fortunate to secure lower level seats out in centerfield at the Metrodome in Minneapolis. Officially, according to the box score, 55,086 other folks were there in the stands with us.

Fact: The Major League Baseball season is 162 games long, but we were going to see Game 163.

The Detroit Tigers held a seven-game lead over the Twins as late as September 6, that year. They showed no real signs of slowing down, and their final month of the season wasn’t all that bad, but over the course of the final three weeks the Twins gained a little ground. The Tigers went into the final three games of the regular season with a two-game lead. Then they lost two of those final three to the White Sox. And, of course, the Twins swept their final three, over the Royals. After 162 games, the Twins and Tigers were tied. They’d play Game 163 (you capitalize it because it was *THAT* important) on October 6, in Minneapolis. Winner take all. I can’t believe it’s been seven years.

I can’t possibly overstate how incredible this game was. I grew up watching baseball every day. I went to as many as 40 or 50 Cardinals games during childhood summers. I was a batboy or bullpen catcher for my father’s Triple-A minor league teams for four summers during high school. I played baseball until I was 40. I got paid to watch baseball, as a scout for the Toronto Blue Jays, for four years. What all that means is I have no idea how many baseball games I’ve seen in person (thousands, no doubt) but I can say, without question, which was the single most thrilling ballgame I ever saw. Game 163.

If I recounted all the ebbs and flows, all the potential game winners and potential game savers, and all the thrills and heartbreaks from that game, this blog would last until next Thursday. Rare was the inning when nothing much happened. There were clutch home runs, fluke triples, stunning double plays, base running blunders, leads taken and leads handed back, and too many incredible defensive plays to list (although I will mention the name Nick Punto, just because he was that clutch). The crowd, assembled hastily with just two days notice, filled the Dome to its inflated roof and rarely sat down. I’ve been in the fifth row for Rush concerts and not had my ears ring as much as they did after Game 163.

After 162 games, the season had needed a 163rd game to settle the American League Central. In Game 163, nine innings weren’t enough. In the 10th, the Tigers nearly silenced the crowd buy taking the lead again, but the Twins came back and tied it in the bottom of the 10th. In the bottom of the 12th, two of the fastest Twins ended it. Alexi Cassilla singled to right and Carlos Gomez streaked home from second, sliding across the plate head first. The Dome almost exploded. The celebration on the field was just as real as the one in the grandstands.

Bottom of the 12th. Game over.
Bottom of the 12th. Game over.

There were two guys sitting behind us that night, and by the conversations they were having I could tell they had either played a lot of baseball or were certifiable “baseball lingo” geeks. They knew all the lines players utter mindlessly in the dugout. They were also hilarious, and I enjoyed talking to them all night long.

When the winning run scored, I had the presence of mind to spin around and click this shot with my iPhone. Nailed it. That’s exactly how I felt, as well.

Seriously… Best. Game. Ever.

I would like to say that I woke up this morning and remembered Game 163 and the fact it happened on this date. I’d like to, but I have this thing about honesty. It was a tweet, by someone in the Twins front office, that reminded me. So of course, I posted the selfie you see above, of Barbara and me, on Facebook and then replied to the tweet. Because social media. It’s how we live now, and when people aren’t posting hateful stuff, it can be a marvelous thing.

Just a few days after Game 163, I was in Richmond for our NHRA race, in my first season with Team Wilkerson. Top Fuel owner/driver Bob Vandergriff called me the day I was traveling. A friend of his, who lived in Virginia, wanted to come to the race and hang out “behind the ropes” to show his mom, dad, and brother what NHRA Drag Racing was all about. He’d hoped to do that with Bob and his team. Unfortunately, Bob had already decided to sit the Richmond race out, so he wasn’t going to be there. He told his buddy about a former minor leaguer who worked for Funny Car driver Tim Wilkerson, and that he was sure that guy would be happy to host his him and his family.

Me with some cat named Verlander, at the drags
Me, with some cat named Verlander, at the drags

Justin Verlander and his family had a great time that day. So did I. There was some talk about my days in the Tigers’ organization (we both made stops at Lakeland, in the Class-A Florida State League, “only” 26 years apart) and his blossoming Major League career, but not a single mention of Game 163. He didn’t pitch in that game, but there was no need to bring it up.

It’s MLB playoff time now. Cubs fans are beyond excited, but also probably nervous as they start their series against the Giants. Maybe they should invite Steve Bartman to the game, to exorcise those demons. The Blue Jays and Rangers are playing a Division Series and the last time those two teams were on the same field a brawl took place. The Indians are hosting the Red Sox, which reminds me that I still can’t believe Cleveland won the Central Division. The Dodgers and Nationals match up in the NL, and it’s Kershaw against Scherzer in Game 1. Which brings to mind the question: Have two no-hitters even been thrown in the same game? It’s October. This is baseball’s month.

Here in Woodbury, I’ve been on a real roll with “Bats, Balls, & Burnouts” and have been cranking. I posted on my “B,B,&B” Facebook page an admission that I’d really struggled the last couple of weeks. Part of it was due, no doubt, to some fear and intimidation that came to the surface when I realized how close I was to being done. Another part of it was allergies. They’ve been pretty bad the last few weeks, and when I get that congested it’s like my brain is fuzzy. It’s actually hard to string coherent sentences and stories together when your eyes are watering and you’re hacking nonstop.

But this week, it all got better. I rocketed  through Chapter 33 and it’s done. I’ve even started Chapter 34, but put it aside for now because today is Thursday, and Thursday is Blog Day. There’s a real chance the book is going to be 35 chapters long, but I definitely don’t see it being more than 36. If so, I have but two or three chapters left to go. Plus the epilogue and a few other details. Then, my editor Greg Halling and I are going to get together in Ogden, Utah and do some serious editing. I hope we don’t have to leave too much of it on the cutting room floor, but I also realize it can’t be so long it scares people away. I didn’t sit down to write “War And Peace” when I started this back in January. I sat down to write it all, though, starting with me as a three-year-old, and if Greg and I have to get the cyber “red pen” out and do some selective pruning, then that’s what we’ll do.

Like a baseball player at the end of a long season, I can also attest to being “nicked up” and worn out by this process. This week, I wrote five or six hours a day on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. This blog takes a couple of hours to write on Thursday. I’ll get back to the book tomorrow. And thanks to all of that, for more than nine straight months, I could probably use an MRI on my left elbow. It’s constantly sore, and I assume that’s because I’m right-handed and when I’m not typing I lean on my left arm. My neck throbs from looking down at my laptop. My lower back would be a total mess if not for this great ergonomic mesh chair that supports me in just the right places and also keep me cool.

It’s hard work, this writing stuff. But I have no time to go on the Disabled List. I’ll just rub some dirt on it, tape it up, and go. I might want to rethink the part about rubbing dirt on it anywhere near my laptop, though.

At the end of Chapter 33, Barbara accepts the job in Spokane, with Itron, and we began the process of putting our Woodbury house on the market and getting ready to move across the country. That was four and a half years ago.

With me being in the middle of the seven-year Team Wilk era now, there is still plenty of research to do. That can get a little tedious, especially flipping back and forth through the years on NHRA.com, but last week I realized I have a shelf full of great background material at my disposal.

It's all here. 2009 thru 2015.
It’s all here. 2009 thru 2015.

At the end of each season with Wilk, I compiled all of the important press clippings we earned, all of my feature stories, all of my daily updates from the races, all of my post-event reports, and a complete statistical review of the entire season, race by race. All the info is there, in these binders.

At least once an hour, the last three days, I’d stumble onto something in one of the books and think, “Gosh, I can’t believe I forgot that.” OK, maybe I didn’t actually use the word “Gosh” but the sentiment is very true. I remembered winning races, but I can’t say I always recalled who we defeated or how we got to the final round. And some stuff, like big engine explosions or carbon-fiber Mustang bodies that ended up crispy after a large fire, were probably not in the forefront of my mind because of selective mental deletions. If I didn’t read it in the binder, maybe it didn’t happen.

So that’s where we stand, or at least that’s where I sit.

I have just written an entire blog without mentioning Buster and/or Boofus. That might be a first, but I won’t stand for it. No sir.

I sneaked up on Buster to photobomb his selfie
I sneaked up on Buster to photobomb his selfie

Buster just took this selfie with my phone, so I photo bombed him. Now he’s mad at me. Touchy much?

So there you have it. No NHRA race this weekend, so I’m free to do housework and other fun pursuits. Like, for instance, one of these days I ought to get back into the utility room to straighten it up, just like I planned to do the day after the movers left back in June. I’m waiting for the right moment. You can’t rush these things.

On Sunday, Barbara and I are off to US Bank Stadium to cheer on the Vikings, as they take their 4-0 record into a game against the 3-1 Texans. Skol Vikings!

And the Wild are already playing preseason games. Hockey starts soon. The Timberwolves have, I think, the most talent and most depth they’ve had since we moved to Minnesota in 2002. Lots of incredible young players, and some solid veterans for leadership.

But it’s October. This is baseball’s month. Play ball!

Bob Wilber, at your service rounding third, and heading for home.

 

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