It’s nothing
like 9-11 or the Challenger explosion, or for others that are older the JFK assassination,
but I remember exactly what I was doing 30 years ago today when George Brett
made famous a substance called pine tar.
It was
Sunday afternoon, a day game, and I was sitting in my grandmother’s hospital
room at St. Joseph’s in Kansas City. My grandmother, then well into her nineties, had fallen a day
or two before and broken her hip. Many of the family had gathered in her room
to wish here a speedy recovery. She, as an avid Royals fan, was undoubtedly
supportive of us tuning in to catch the afternoon contest against the hated
Yankees.
In the event
you don’t know the historical facts of this game, allow me a brief synopsis. The
Royals were one out away from losing the series finale against the Yankees by a
score of 4-3 when George Brett came to the plate as the Royals final hope. Rich “Goose” Gossage, the feared Yankee’s
closer, had been sent to the mound to notch a save and send the Royals packing.
Brett promptly sent the Gossage offering into the right field bleachers for a
home run, scoring himself and U.L. Washington to give the Royals a 5-4 lead and
a great chance of victory.
Yankee
manager Billy Martin had been plotting for several weeks to protest the amount
of pine tar Brett applied to his bat. He waited, strategically, however to
protest the substance at a time after Brett had done some damage to his team.
That time was then, after Brett’s two run shot had put the Royals close to
victory.
After the
homer, Martin brought Brett’s bat to the attention of the umpiring crew that
day, specifically home plate umpire Tim McClelland. After a few minutes of
deliberation, measurement (the pine tar exceeded the 18” limit) etc., Brett was
called out, the home run being nullified. Game over. Yankees win 4-3.
Brett’s
reaction to the call is legendary. At the time my mother, a modest baseball
fan, called Brett “a maniac” and thought his reaction unsportsmanlike. Calling
Brett’s actions maniacal after the call might be generous. He more closely resembled
the demon-possessed “Legion” in Chapter 5 of Mark’s Gospel. And although my mother was probably right,
Brett’s actions are somewhat understandable given his history with the Yankees
and given the historically villainous antics of Billy Martin. And besides, my
growing up watching George Brett categorically prevents me from criticizing him
for anything.
The next day
the Royals protested McClelland call. Four days later American League President
Lee MacPhail ruled in favor of the Royals. MacPhail, claiming the spirit of the
pine tar rule was to keep from gumming up baseballs, ruled the excessive goop
gave Brett no advantage in hitting the home run. The game was ruled suspended,
and the Yankees and Royals were ordered to resume play with two outs in the top
of the 9th. The two teams eventually resumed the game about a month
later in front of about 1,200 fans at Yankee Stadium. After a series of Yankee
protests and antics, followed by four straight outs, the game was over and the
Royals prevailed 5-4 before flying on to Baltimore for their next series.
In 1983 the
Royals were in their prime. The team was three years removed from its first
World Series appearance against the Philadelphia Phillies. Although they lost
that Series in six games, many of us were relieved just to have had them there.
The real victory, it had seemed, was finally beating the Yankees in the
American League Championship Series. By 1980 any true Royals fan was hardened
and weary from losing three consecutive AL Championship Series to the Bronx
Bombers during the late 1970s.
These were
bitter defeats, but the Royals fortunes had turned with the beginning of a new
decade. The team would flourish during the first half of the 80s, culminating
with its only World Championship in 1985.
So in 1983
we were almost smack dab in between the franchise’s two World Series
appearances. And although the bitter defeats at the hands of the Yankees had
become less raw with the passing of time, the loathing of George Steinbrenner’s
franchise in the Big Apple had not. Simply put, it was impossible to bleed
Royal Blue and have any affection for pinstripes.
The Pine Tar
Game would not have had the same significance, the same drama, had it been
played against the Seattle Mariners or the Cleveland Indians. Such drama was apropos
for baseball’s most famous venue—Yankee Stadium.
Further, the
game would not have been the same had the almost ten years of history between
the two teams not been what it was. Neither team liked the other much. Billy
Martin relished the chance to foil George Brett. Brett relished the opportunity
to punish the Yankees. He got especially pumped to face the fireballer Gossage.
The pine tar home run was reminiscent of a similar shot Brett had hit off
Gossage at Yankee Stadium to put the Royals into the World Series in 1980. The
stage was set. That sort of drama brought my family together around a hospital
television set and for a couple of hours allayed the suffering of my ailing grandmother.
As I look
back on that game in 1983 I miss several things. I miss pine tar. It’s still
used I guess, but Brett should have had his own brand. Everyone has to wear
batting gloves these days. Brett liked the feel of the bat in his bare hands. He questioned the manhood of the guys who were afraid to bloody or dirty their hands.
I miss Brett’s
passion. Maniacal? At times. I’m not
sure I want to show the pine tar video at a Little League parents meeting. But,
I never saw anyone play harder than Brett and care more about the outcome of
the game than did he. That factor appears to be missing in a lot of players
today.
I even
appreciate Billy Martin. Any good story must have a villain. Billy Martin
played the villain, par excellence. He was even a villain among his own team
sometimes. But even more than a villain, he was a competitor. His competitive
fire might have rivaled Brett’s. The pine tar characters could not have been
cast any better from a Hollywood casting director.
What good
stories must have even more than a villain is redemption. Sent packing a loser
on July 24, 1983, George Brett had hit, what one broadcaster called “the only
game losing home run in history.” And
although Lee MacPhail acknowledged Brett’s actions that day warranted ejection
(some accounts had him watching the resumed game at the airport), MacPhail
redeemed Tim McClelland’s call and rightly restored George Brett’s home run—one
of 317 in his career—to its rightful place in the record books.
I listened
to many Royals games with my grandmother. I fondly remember her repeatedly
telling me her favorite player was John Mayberry. The pine tar game was
probably the last game I watched or listened to with her. She declined steadily
after the broken hip and died the next year.
