Reading Eagle - October 22, 1980

Cable Strikeouts


Because a power cupola burned out, causing a power outage, Berks Cable customers were unable to view all of the final World Series game Tuesday night.


Residents of Sinking Spring, Wernersville, Wilshire and Whitfield lost their viewing at 8, moments before the opening ceremonies.


Service was restored and the picture returned to the screens at 11:28, barely two minutes before the Philadelphia Phillies defeated Kansas City 4-1 in the clincher.


A Berks Cable spokesman said a three-man crew located the source of the outage and repair work was continuing this morning.

Coverage Good, Bad


By the Associated Press


There was much more good than bad but NBC’s coverage of the final game of the World Series Tuesday night was somewhat inconsistent, particularly in Philadelphia’s decisive third inning.


One of the game’s key plays came when Kansas City shortstop U. L. Washington missed second base on Lonnie Smith’s fielder’s choice ground ball.


After fishing for the right replay, the left field camera captured Washington leaving the bag too soon.  Fine shot.  Error shortstop.


However, the official scorer then changed his decision, blaming Frank White for the throw that pulled Washington off the bag.  Error second baseman.  But we never saw the throw again on replay.  Error NBC.


Pete Rose, the next batter up, dropped a beautiful bunt from the left side, which pitcher Rich Gale didn’t field.


Tony Kubek:  “Gale froze.”


Tom Seaver:  “That’s the pitcher’s responsibility.  He should be breaking toward third.


Joe Garagiola:  “Rose only had four sacrifice bunts all year.”


Triple play for NBC.


Mike Schmidt then singled in two runs that keyed Philadelphia’s final-game victory over Kansas City, 4-1.


In the early innings, there were several discussions in the broadcast booth about a possible balk move by Steve Carlton.


Apparently the National League umps are more lenient about this than the American Leaguers.  Garagiola said it was significant that the AL’s Nick Bremigan was working home plate.  Actually, it was the first base ump, the NL’s Harry Wendelstedt who would have made the call on a balk.


Kubek called it a flat-out balk.  This is one case where director Harry Coyle’s picture didn’t keep pace with the commentary.  Here we should have seen isolated shots of Carlton’s feet.  Was it or was it not a balk?


Overall, like Philadelphia catcher Bob Boone, Coyle called another great game.  His baseball instincts are unmatched in the industry.


Examples:  In the fifth inning, the center field camera focused on Carlton pitching to John Wathan, who lined a single up the middle.  Most directors would have punched up the home plate camera, but Coyle stayed on the ball and rode into center field.


As soon as Jose Cardenal singled in the eighth, Coyle zoomed in on Phillies Manager Dallas Green.   As if on cue, Green moved from the top step.  We knew Carlton was gone because Coyle then zeroed in on Tug McGraw waiting and then moving in from the bullpen.

Fans Celebrate Like Champions


By Tony Zonca, Sunday Sports Editor


PHILADELPHIA – This city’s often-troubled baseball team was three outs away from claiming the cherished championship that had eluded every Phillies team before them.


It was at that point that many among the crowd began descending towards the field-level seats, anticipating the frenzied dash onto the Vet carpet.  The aisles were completely blocked.  It was Times Square on New Year’s Eve, without the muggers.


All the red-helmeted fans could do was wave their pennants and their pompons and encourage relief ace Tug McGraw with a resounding “Let’s go Tug.  Let’s go Tug!”


Otis First


Amos Otis was first up.  He had come into Thursday’s Game No. 6 hitting a series-high .550.  Steve Carlton had handled him, allowing a walk, then getting a strikeout and a long, high fly to right that Bake McBride had gloved leaning against the fence.


The score was 4-1.  You don’t need anybody to tell you it stayed that way.  But the inning was not without its anxious moments, the impish McGraw teasing the home fans with a sense of the dramatic.


It began harmlessly, Otis looking at a called third strike and barking at American League umpire Nick Bremigan, working the plate.


They Meant Business


On the field, Philadelphia’s finest was out for muster.  They were in their riot gear – blue helmets, black leather jackets – and it created an ominous, eerie atmosphere.  They were one part Star Wars, one part Hell’s Angels.


Two innings earlier, just to get the attention of those fans who were planning the kind of ruinous on-field celebration the Yankee fans conducted when Chris Chambliss disappointed the same Kansas City Royals in the ’76 playoffs, 10 mounted police had paraded, slowly and silently, around the warning track.


The Phillies front-office people obviously were determined to prevent a riotous situation.


You expected the place to explode at any second.  With McGraw standing, grinning slyly, over the detonator.  What else would you expect from a screwball?


Then Willie Mays Aikens, who had gone hitless, walked.


Silent Stroke


When John Wathan stroked a single to right, for a couple of seconds the place became deadly silent, as though Wathan had just punched everybody right in the gut.


Jose Cardenal, the former Phillie, was the tying run at the plate.


The crowd now was unsure of itself.  A thought struck me – if the Royals should come back and win this, it was all over for this Phillies team and this city.  They would never recover.


With the count two-and-two, Cardenal slammed a one-hop rope to Garry Maddox in center.  The crowd went Ooohh!


Frank White, the second baseman, was up next.  Thank goodness, he was not allowed to take his magic glove with him.  He had batted as though he were using a wand, going 2-for-24.


He offered at the first pitch and sent a foul pop drifting towards the Phillies dugout.  Catcher Bob Boone chased the ball, now drifting up the line, near the photographers box.  But the ball clunked out of his mitt and… first baseman Pete Rose, incredibly, was there to glove it before it struck one of those expensive lenses.


It was a great, instinctive play.


By that time, the cops had all but taken over the field.  Three of them, with German shepherds on a leash, were roundly booed as they made their way to the home-plate area.


Willie Wilson was the batter.  If success breeds success, the Philly fans had to be hoping failure bred failure.  Wilson had already struck out twice in the game – a Series-record-tying (with Eddie Mathews) 11 times.


Tension Mounts


Quickly, the count was no balls and two strikes.  The police began moving in.  The crowd was on its feet.  The noise level was incredible.  McGraw threw a ball.  By now it was apparent that nobody who didn’t belong there was getting on that field.


Royal reliever Dan Quisenberry, talking about his team’s chances before the game, had said, “We’ve got our backs to the wall; the east side of the Berlin wall.”


Funny that thought should come to mind at that time for an entirely different reason.  I don’t know why, but at that moment, with 65,838 people fixed on one pitch, I was focusing on Kent State, the Chicago Riot, Woodstock, and Boston school-bus incidents.


Strike three!


It was over, the Phillies were champions.  No more than about 20 people tried to join the celebrating players, who danced their way merrily toward the dugout and the clubhouse.


There were no problems.  Fireworks were set off above the stadium.  The stadium literally rumbled.  Both teams got off the field quickly.


It was a strange scene.  Thousands upon thousands of people were standing there cheering nothing but cops, dogs and horses.


The fans were something else.  They hugged and kissed, friends and strangers alike.  Many had tears in their eyes.  Up on the scoreboard, the message World Champions!  World Champions! was being flashed.


Then it produced another message – Phillies third baseman Mike Schmidt had been named MVP.


There existed in my a feeling of relief.  The police had executed their duty well.


The fans were chanting – “We’re Number 1!  We’re Number 1!”  Five minutes later, they were filing out.  A dog was busy yapping at the heels of an offended horse, many of whom left their own souvenirs on the carpet floor.


At that moment, Manager Dallas Green, Del Unser, Lonnie Smith, Coaches Bobby Wine and Lee Elia came out and acknowledged – thanked, if you will – the crowd.


They were carrying champagne and waving to the people.


Outside the stadium, fans were spilling onto the ramps and whooping it up.  Some were promising to stay up all night, right into today’s victory parade.  Souvenirs suddenly were jacked up 100 percent.  Everybody was smiling, slapping each other on the back, giving high-fives.


Readingites Scalped


Reading’s Mary Ann Palmeiri and George Kline were part of the celebration.  They had paid $65 apiece to see the game from the last row of the uppermost 700-level.


“I came down here wit the idea of getting scalped,” said Kline, who had paid $125 to see Carlton win Wednesday’s second game.  “It was worth it.  I’d do it again tomorrow.  I might be 60 before this happens again.


They had bought pennants and buttons and several unique throw rugs which read:  “Where The Fun Is,” and “This is Phillies Country.”  In between were pictures of two batters, sandwiching the state of Pennsylvania.  Kline assured me it was a “good deal,” the five bucks apiece he had shelled out.


Mostly, the fans behaved themselves.  Oh, a few got carried away, and there were the obligatory fights, but there was nothing frightening about the madcap scene outside the Vet that spilled into the parking lot of the Spectrum and JFK Stadium.


Inside, after a slow start, the Phillies were enjoying the moment.


There was Mayor Bill Green asking for the shirt of Dallas Green…  there was utility man John Vukovich hugging play-by-play announcer Harry Kalas and saying and saying, “Hell, you did more than I did”…  the manager and Greg Luzinski, who had their differences, embracing warmly… the manager also seeking out Larry Bowa, Schmidt and McGraw, and saving the fondest embrace for his plucky reliever… rookie pitcher Marty Bystrom chugging 7-Up…  Boone working a black stogie and swilling beer out of a pail… Ron Reed (Ron Reed?) shaking hands with the local media… rookie catcher Keith Moreland promising he was going to retire and join the Eagles to “play for a second world champion”…  Bake McBride parading in a garish sportcoat and tie over this Phillies uniform…  a large man in a chef’s hat and apron sitting quietly in McBride’s stall… McGraw tenderly embracing his wife….


And outside they were just getting started – up Broad Street to City Hall, in the mean streets of Kensington, to the manicured lawns of the Main Line – because the Phillies were No. 1.

George Brett Looking Ahead


PHILADELPHIA (UPI) – For George Brett, the most difficult aspect of losing the World Series to the Philadelphia Phillies was figuring out what to do next.


The brief team meeting Kansas City Manager Jim Frey held Tuesday night after the Phillies clinched the Series with a 4-1 victory in Game 6 didn’t feel like a fitting conclusion to a season that had promised so much.  Neither did the heroes’ welcome that Brett knew awaited the Royals back in Kansas City.


Yet Brett couldn’t just chalk it up to experience the way he had the disappointment of the Royals’ three consecutive losses to the New York Yankees in the 1976, ’77, ’78 American League Playoffs.


Hero In Defeat


“I’ve never been in this position before.  I don’t know what to do,” said Brett, who emerged as a hero anyway for the way he played in the Series, batting .375 despite the pain of hemorrhoids and emergency surgery on them.


“Sure, the fans are disappointed, but I think when we beat the Yankees it was like winning the World Series for our town.  I expect there will be a parade or town meeting or something like that for us when we get back.  Then I guess we’ll say our good-byes until we say our hellos in March at Spring Training or at the SuperTeams competition.


“Playoff losses are easy to forget,” Brett added.  “But this is something you cherish, the World Series.  It’s history.  When I get old and gray, this is what I’m going to tell my grandchildren about.  I’m not going to tell them I played in the playoffs.  I’m going to tell them I played in the World Series.  They’re going to sit on my knee and ask me who won, and I’ll say, ‘We didn’t win the first time but we did the second time or whatever.’


“Jim (Frey) called a meeting and he told us, ‘Don’t hang your heads,’ the basic bull.  What else is a manager going to say?  It’s ironic.  Usually when a manager holds a meeting it’s because the team’s playing bad and at the end he always says, ‘We’ll get them tomorrow.’  Well, there is no tomorrow; now we’ve got to get them next year or whatever.  Who knows what lies in the future?”


Typical Reaction


Brett’s quiet introspection was typical of the scenes being played out in all the tiny cubicles of the visiting clubhouse at Veterans’ Stadium.  There were no tears, no temper tantrums.  The temptations to second-guess each other, to denigrate the Phillies or to replay out loud all the missed opportunities were ignored.  Perhaps all that will come later, after the impact of Tuesday night has sunk in.

Green Not Talking About Next Season


By Milton Richman, UPI Sports Editor


PHILADELPHIA (UPI) – From the first time I met Dallas Green 20 years ago when he came up as a relatively unheralded pitcher with the Philadelphia Phillies, he always struck me as one of those up front type individuals.


He never had a whole lot to say and never was one to sit there in the back of the bus and mutter whispered criticisms of the manager, but whenever he did have anything on his mind, you didn’t get it second hand, you got it straight from him.


Under questioning late in August from some of the writers who cover his club, Green didn’t come out ad say flatly he’d return to his job in the Phillies’ front office and turn over the field managership to someone else if they should go on to win the world championship, but he left that impression quite strongly.


First Question


Strongly enough, so that was one of the first questions asked him even while the champagne which had been poured over him was still dripping from his curly graying black hair into his eyes moments after his Phillies had won their first world championship in the 97-year history of the club.


He was so fully carried away by the enormity of the team’s victory yet, so emotionally charged, he was barely able to get any words out of his mouth.


“I don’t even want to talk about that now,” he babbled happily when the question was repeated.


Now I don’t profess to know everything that goes on in Dallas Green’s head and I’d never try to guess what he has in mind for the future, but from what I’ve learned about him in 20 years, along with what I know of his character, I’m absolutely convinced he’ll be back managing the Phillies next year.


My conviction is based primarily on his extraordinary relationship with one man, a man who had tears in his eyes although he was by far the happiest human being in the Phillies’ triumphant clubhouse Tuesday night.  That had to be Dallas Greens boss, Paul Owens, the Phillies’ Vice President and Director of Player Personnel, who has been with the club the last 25 years and who everyone associated with the club affectionately calls “The Pope.”


“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Green said when he was pressed about his plans again.  “I’ll do what The Pope tells me to do.”


Paul Owens, who did the same thing in the middle of 1972 that Dallas Green did last year, stepping down from his front office post to take over as manager of the Phillies, hasn’t spoken to Green yet about next year.  Owens is four weeks behind in his work and intends to sit down and talk to Green shortly.


When he does, he will ask him to stay on as manager next season.  After that Owens will give up his job and turn it over to Green.


Owens Decision


Who says so?  Paul Owens says so, and knowing him nearly 20 years also, I can tell you his word is his bond and when he says something, he doesn’t change it five minutes later.  I can also tell you nobody in the Phillies’ organization worked longer or harder to mold them into a winner and nobody was more emotionally drained when reliever Tug McGraw struck out Willie Wilson for the final out that made the Phillies baseball’s new world champions.


“I was on my knees in the trainer’s room praying when Wilson struck out,” Owens said later, his face flushed and wet with tears of sheer joy.  “That’s a fact.  Pete Cera (the Phillies’ assistant clubhouse manager) and I were both in there praying and right after Tug struck out Wilson, we both jumped into each other’s arms.”


The ecstatic Owens was going around the clubhouse hugging everybody.  Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt, Larry Bowa, coach Billy DeMars, McGraw, anybody he could find to embrace.  He hugged Green so hard, he almost squeezed all the breath out of him.


Talent There


“We have talent here,” said Owens above the noisy din and popping of champagne corks.  “Dallas brought it out.  Bringing him down from the front office to manage the club last September was the best move I ever made in my life.  I’ve known him since he was 20, and we needed someone who could stand up to these guys.  He did it.  Dallas Green is one helluva man in more ways than just being a manager.  I didn’t send him down from the office to be a copy boy or a snoop for me, I sent him down to handle these guys and get the best out of them and that’s what he did.  I’m gonna stay at my job one more year and then he’s gonna take it over.”


While he was talking, Bake McBride came over to Owens and removed his almond colored jacket and put it on.


“Now gimme your pants,” McBride said to him, probably with the idea of tossing him into the shower.


Owens laughed but made no move to take off his pants.


“C’mon,” the outfielder urged him.  “There ain’t no camera on you.


Owens laughed some more and then hugged the Phillies’ rightfielder.


“What a year this guy gave me,” Owens said.  Then turning back to McBride, he said, “You did a helluva job.  I’m so proud I traded (with the Cardinals) for you.”


“I hear ya, I hear ya,” McBride answered him.  “What about the pants, though?”


Owens kept laughing.  He wasn’t about to give up his pants.  Or his manager, either.

Kutch’s Corner:  A Tale of Two Cities


By Dave Kutch


Last night’s unrestrained joy was unique for the city of Philadelphia.  It was the first time the Phillies had ever won a World Series.  It was also the city’s first world championship in baseball in 50 years – the A’s having taken their second straight World Series in 1930.


The A’s came close the following year, falling to the St. Louis Cardinals and Pepper Martin in seven games.


Connie Mack began selling off his starts to make ends meet.  The A’s superiority was resulting in a lack of close pennant races.  That, along with the Great Depression, meant tight budgets.  The Macks simply couldn’t afford to pay what their outstanding players deserved.


Front office parsimony – someone else’s – played a big part in the Phillies finally brining another World Series winner to the City of Brotherly Love.


Cincinnati’s refusal to pay Pete Rose, a modern-day throwback to the Pepper Martin style, even half of what he eventually wheedled out of the Phillies after collecting over 3,000 lifetime hits in Cincy may have been the crucial factor in the Phillies’ climb to the top.


Boone’s Most Famous Assist


While the city, which has so often suffered defeat after coming to the brink of championships in recent years, celebrated, all was quiet in the Queen City on the banks of the Ohio.


Those joyous moments after the completion of the 1975 and 1976 World Series were just pleasant memories in the Rhineland.


But there was a constant factor for those in Cincy watching this World Series.  Of course, it was No. 14.


Phillies catcher Bob Boone had a fine World Series.  He batted .412 to lead the team – several of his hits coming in crucial situation.  But it was his fine job of blocking pitches in the dirst and handling rookie pitchers whicih made him my personal choice as Series MVP.


But all those bit of excellent defense would have been forgotten had Rose not been Petey on the spot in the ninth inning Tuesday.


Boone’s fumble of a popup near the Phillies’ dugout had many in the crowd of 65,838 thinking of past moments of notoriety before Rose turned Boone’s fumble into an assist.


Some may call the play lucky – but others consider luck to be the residue of design and preparation.  Rose had hustled in order to be in position to come up with that play.  Imagine if Dick Stuart were still patrolling first base as if his glove were allergic to baseballs.


Signing Pays Off


That moment certainly made every Phillies fan most happy that Rose was wearing the peppermint pinstripes.  The team’s reason for investing so heavily in the aging star was for Rose to provide the spark which had been missing when the Phils dropped three straight National League Championship Series in 1976, 1977 and 1978.


The desired result of the Rose signing was delayed a year when the Phillies fell to fourth place last year, largely because of numerous injuries to its pitching staff.


Meanwhile, the Reds won the Western Division with Rose’s replacement at third base – Ray Knight – playing a leading role.


But the Phillies did far better in this year’s NLCS with Rose than Cincy did in last year’s without Rose.  If Ben Franklin were still around, he’d be writing something about wise investment paying off rather than the saving of pennies in the next issue of “Poor Richard’s Almanac.”


The selling off of stars was excusable in the situation facing the Macks in the 1930s.  It is considerably less excusable when a team is drawing well over two million fans a year as the Reds have been doing.


In a related matter, don’t be surprised if former Phillies manager Gene Mauch signs to manage again shortly.  Should Paul Owens retire and Dallas Green move up to general manager, Mauch might be named Phillies manager again.


Another good bet would be for Mauch to show up as the new manager of the Boston Red Sox.  Mauch got his managing start in the Red Sox organization and had established a positive impression before being tapped by the Phillies in 1959.  The Bosox are looking for a disciplinarian and a motivator.  Mauch seemingly fills those roles.

Optimism Prophetic


A lot of the Philadelphia Phillies’ fans are walking around today saying they knew all along their team was going to win the World Series this year, but very few of them can prove it.


One fan who can prove it is Marie Sweigert, the traffic manager for radio station WEEU.  When she programed the station’s computer at the start of the season, she listed Oct. 21 as the date for the last Phillies broadcast for 1980.


“I thought there would be a possibility they would be playing longer than Oct. 5 (the end of the regular season),” Sweigert said.

Philadelphia Celebrates Victory


PHILADELPHIA (AP) – Phillies’ fans, operating on a few winks after Tuesday night’s victory celebration, officially toasted their World Series champs today during a noisy parade through the city.


Confetti, mutilated computer cards and small Carter-Mondale flyers fluttered out of office building windows as the players, riding on a flatbed truck beneath a bright blue sky, passed by en route to JFK Stadium where victory ceremonies were planned.


Fans perched on building ledges, light standards and step ladders to catch a glimpse of these Cardiac Kids, a team that delivered the first world championship in the 98-year history of the Phillies’ franchise.


Besides baseball, the other big game in town was hookie, as thousands of happy youngsters, drawn by the Pied Piper of victory, took to the streets to say thanks.


“A lot of the classrooms are empty,” said a spokesman for the Philadelphia Board of Education.  “We don’t have figures.  But you figure this hasn’t happened in 98 years, and, well, kids are kids.”


Gov. Dick Thornburgh signed a proclamation declaring “World Championship Philadelphia Phillies Day In Pennsylvania.”


Thirteen official vehicles carried team members, Mayor William Green, Thornburgh and other VIPs.  A fire and rescue truck and a police escort brought up the rear of the caravan on its 90-minute route to the stadium.


“McGraw You Can Tug On Me Anytime,” read one sign, hefted by a blonde teen-age girl.


Fern Towner, 66, showed up dressed as a high school cheerleader.  And she danced with an 80-year-old man in a red “Superstar” sweatshirt who was waving a Phillies pennant.


“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” said Ann Patrick, who arrived on roller skates wearing a bright red wig.  “But I love it.”


Extra trains, subway cars and buses were running to comply with Mayor Green’s plea to have parade watchers use public transportation.  To avoid injuries, spectators were asked to remain on sidewalks during the parade, but many spilled into the street as the caravan passed.


Branch offices of some city banks were closed throughout the afternoon to avoid the crush of parade crowds.  City and state offices were open.  State liquor stores in Philadelphia were closed until 3 p.m.


Elsewhere in the city scattered incidents of violence ad robberies were reported.  But police said the crowds generally were well behaved.


“It was an exuberant party, and although there were some who got too exuberant, most enjoyed themselves,” said Philadelphia Police Commissioner Morton Solomon. 

Phillies Top Dogs in Baseball


By John W. Smith, Asst. Sports Editor


PHILADELPHIA – The Philadelphia Phillies, the dogs of professional baseball for so many years, finally seized the best-in-show award Tuesday night, in the first World Series game in which a dog played right field.


Steve Carlton pitched fastball after fastball with bulldog tenacity; Series MVP Mike Schmidt delivered the winning hit with hound dog reliability after some bow-wow plays by Kansas City; Lonnie Smith set up an insurance run with greyhound quickness; Larry Bowa and Bob Boone, who’ve been in the fans’ doghouse, collaborated on the final run; and Tug McGraw did his St. Bernard rescue act once again, though he staggered like one who had imbibed to freely from the cask.


It added up to a 4-1 victory over Kansas City and the World Series championship by a 4-2 margin – a dream which  two months ago had seemed as much of a pipe dream as the ones indulged in by Snoopy.  The victory trail was so dead Aug. 10, even a bloodhound couldn’t have found it.


The Phillies, who had entered October with a 3-17 record in post-season play, thus won more games in this series than they had won in title action in their entire history.  They finally wiped away the disquieting distinction of being baseball’s only non-expansion franchise which had never won the world’s championship.


“I’m so happy for the people of this city,” said General Manager Paul Owens in the sardine-can atmosphere of the locker room, stifiling with smoke, spray and shouting.  “They’ve been so frustrated for so many years.”


“We don’t do anything easy,” noted Bob Boone.


The Phillies were on the verge of doing it that way in the finale.  They were working on a streak of 14 consecutive games in which the final margin was never more than two runs, except for one three-run loss in extra innings.


They built a 4-0 lead after six innings behind Carlton, and many of the fans began the party early.  But the champions had to suffer through bases-loaded jams with McGraw in the eighth and ninth before they could claim the prize.


Adding to the late-inning discomfort was the presence of horses and dogs on the field as Philadelphia’s finest moved into position to prevent the Yankee Stadium rapes of ’76 (playoff) and ’77 (Series) from being repeated.


On one pitch to last batter Willie Wilson in the ninth, a dog was actually well in fair territory in right field.  Had Wilson chosen to slice a drive to the corner in that moment, we would have had an argument which would have paled the “triple play” one in Houston.


Wilson Fans


But Wilson didn’t hit the pitch.  More importantly, he didn’t hit the 1-2 fastball which McGraw sailed by him for the final out – a strikeout which incidentally gave Wilson the all-time record for most times struck out in a Series, 12.  Woodrow Wilson did better with the League of Nations. 


McGraw said he used the presence of the dogs as motivation for the final out.


“When I saw them all out there, what went through my mind was “dog” and “K-9 corps.”  I realized one of two things could happen.  I could either turn out to be a dog, or I could get this guy with a ‘K.’


“It might sound weird, and I don’t think anybody’s gonna believe it, but I related a ‘K’ with a strikeout, and ‘dog’ with if I ended up bein’ tired, doggin’ it, I’d never be able to live it down.


“I said I’ve got to use this for my benefit.  And I tell you what, I got that ‘K.’”


The horses had been paraded across the outfield during the seventh-inning break as a show of strength, then were moved into position between the dugouts with an out to go.  And George Steinbrenner thinks he’s the only one who can mix horses with baseball.


Kent State Memories


“I thought I was at Kent State in 1970,” said Schmidt.  “I thought I was in the middle of a movie,” suggested Bowa.


Well, the whole playoff scene has been like a movie script – one for a Grade B movie which you find unbelieveable.


For the first time since the opener of the final series in Montreal, the Phillies won a game Tuesday without coming from behind.


Carlton, pitching his best game since the next-to-last outing of the regular season against Chicago, allowed just three singles and two walks through seven innings.


Only one runner got past first, and he was left hanging when John Wathan banged into a double play in the second.  Another was knocked off by a DP in the fourth.  Both were started by Bowa, who set a Series record by starting seven.


Good Fastball


“Lefty had a real good fastball tonight,” reported Boone for Carlton, absent not only in voice but in body.  “He was a power pitcher tonight.  We didn’t go to the slider so much because the fastball was working so well.”


But in the sixth (when Amos Otis sent Bake McBride to the wall), Boone warned the bench that Carlton had lost some of the speed.  So Dallas Green didn’t hesitate to pull him after Wathan walked and Jose Cardenal singled to start the eighth.


On came McGraw, for the fourth time in the Series and the ninth time in 11 postseason games (14th time in the last 15 games).


Afterward, his mates all seemed to be saying the same thing about Tug – “He makes it exciting.”


“Nobody walks people to get to George Brett,” yelled Dick Ruthven.


“Honest – I don’t do it on purpose,” laughed McGraw.  “It’s like my remarks.  There’s no premeditation.”


Brett Could Tie


After getting one out on a pop, McGraw walked Wilson on five pitches to load the bases.  U.L. Washington cut the score to 4-1 with a sacrifice fly, then up came Brett representing the tying run.


Tug had fanned Brett twice on Sunday.  Could he do it again?  Trying to outguess George once more, he threw him a screwball (a rare pitch to a lefty) on 1-2.


He squibbed it between first and second.  Manny Trillo ran it down, but Pete Rose (who also broke for it) missed the bag in trying to get back, and the bases were loaded again.  “I was yelling that I had the base,” said Tug, “but Pete couldn’t hear me.”


Hal McRae, who had nearly homered off Tug Sunday, fouled off four 3-2 pitches before finally grounding out to Trillo.


“I made up my mind I was going to throw him a strike with something on it,” said Tug.  “I wanted to give it my best shot, so I kept pumping fastballs.  And I think that represents the attitude of the whole club.”


Fastball When Tired


“I was really tired, and when you’re tired, you should reach back and go with the fastball.  I didn’t think I could throw a breaking ball for a strike.”


The fans really started partying when McGraw got Amos Otis to look at a third strike to start the ninth.  “This is Heaven,” flashed the scoreboard.  But then it seemed that heaven can wait.  Willie Aikens walked and both Wathan and Cardenal singled to load the bases.


Frank White fouled out, Boone to Rose (yes, Rose caught the ball after it popped from Boone’s mitt), and then Wilson fanned for the third time in the game.  “I was so tired, if I didn’t get Wilson I was going to tell Dallas to come and get me,” admitted Tug.


“I told Tug, ‘Let’s not make it too exciting,’” said Green.  “He heeded my advice, just like all the rest of them did this year.”


Thumb Up From Lefty


“Lefty gave me the thumb up before the game, and I knew he had it this year.  The extra rest was the key.  It was a gamble to throw Bystrom out there Sunday, but the rest made him a power pitcher again.  When I took him out, he was feathering his fastball a little.”


“He had very good velocity tonight,” agreed K.C.’s Jim Frey.


Nothing went right for Kansas City and Rich Gale in the third – at least through four batters.


First Gale walked the No. 9 batter on four pitches, not the recommended way to start an inning, even if it’s Boone, who would up as the Phils’ top hitter in the Series at .412 (7-for-17).


Washington Pulled Off


Lonnie Smith grounded to White at second, but his throw forced Washington to come off the bag and everybody was safe.  Then Rose bunted a 3-1 pitch toward third for a hit.  Brett was playing back for a possible force (because of Boone’s slow-footedness and fears Rose would swing away), and Gale failed to move.


Then Schmidt drilled a single to right.  Boone scored, of course, and Smith was trying to follow when he did another one of his pratfalls.  But Cardenal had missed the first cutoff man and the second (Washington) couldn’t hear and so didn’t look to home.  Smith got up and trotted in.


“You couldn’t hear each other 15 feet away,” complained Frey.


That was it for Gale, who hadn’t won a game since August 23, but had been given two Series starts because Frey hesitated to use left-hander Paul Splittorff against the predominately right-handed Phils.


Single Into Double


Renie Martin escaped further damage then.  The Phils made it 3-0 in the fifth when Smith grounded one into right center and legged it into a double.  Rose got him to third with a fly, and he scored on McBride’s high-chop groundout.


The final run came in the sixth off Splittorff, when Bowa lined a double to left and Boone did the same with a single.  (It could have been a big inning because Garry Maddox singled to start, but Trillo hit into a DP before Bowa came up.)


MVP Schmidt hit .381 for the six games, and led the Phils in both RBI (7) and runs (6).  He homered twice and also had the game-winning RBI in game 2, an eighth-inning double.


Tugboat Renamed


Oh, yes, dogs weren’t the only source of inspiration for McGraw.  They renamed a tugboat after him at Penn’s Landing Tuesday.


“I was thinking that if I mess this up,” said Tug, “they’ll sink the tugboat, and they’d promised my kid a ride.”


The tugboat is still afloat, the Royals have been sunk, and the Phillies get a free ride today – down Market Street.


“W.C. Fields is missing a good party,” exclaimed Tug.  “We’re second fiddle to NOBODY.”


In other words, the Philadelphia Phillies are top dog at last.


PHIL-PHILLERS – The Phils hit .294 as a team, with Bowa at .375, Keith Moreland at .333 and Bake McBride at .304….  K.C. hit .290, led by Otis at .478.  K.C. had one more hit and five more homers than the Phils, scoring four runs less….  Schmidt, Bowa and Brett hit in every game.  Otis, McRae and Aikens had hit in every game till Tuesday….  Schmidt is the first Series MVP who won’t get a car.   The prize has been changed to an engraved solid gold watch and a $5,000 scholarship donated to the school of Mike’s choice, presumably Ohio U….  Jimmy Carter called to congratulate Green.  He should be especially happy, since the Democrats have won the presidential election every time in the last 40 years that the National League has won (except in ’48) and lost it every time the American League has won….  Dan Quisenberry set a record by pitching in all games of a six-game Series (Darold Knowles pitched in seven of seven for Oakland in ’73)….  Green is the fourth rookie manager to win a World Series.  The others were Bucky Harris at Washington in ’24, Eddie Dyer at St. Louis in ’46, and Ralph Houk with the Yankees in ’61.

Rose FulPhils Promise


By John W. Smith, Asst. Sports Editor


PHILADELPHIA – “Get me to the playoffs, and I’ll take it from there,” Pete Rose said to his Philadelphia teammates once upon a time, presumably in jest.


Pete Rose takes it in a lot of ways.  As a guy who’s eyeing 4,000 career hits, he does it most of the time that way.  But he can beat you in more other ways than Philadelphians could find to cure hangovers this morning.


So far in postseason activity, he had helped win games by disagreeing with a sign from the bench, by coaxing a walk from a pitcher who’d been walking very few, by getting his by a pitch (K.C. thought purposely), by running over a catcher, by quieting a rookie pitcher at just the right moment.


Tuesday night, in the climactic game of the World Series, he did it again, with a perfect bunt, a runner-advancing fly – and the most dramatic catch of a pop fly in Series history since Billy Martin’s desperate snare of Jackie Robinson’s loft in the seventh game in 1952.


Perfect Bunt


The bunt was perfectly placed toward third base in the third inning, and Rose beat it out for a bases-loading hit with plenty to spare.  The next batter, Mike Schmidt, drilled the single which produced the first two runs.


The fly was hit deep to center in the fifth, allowing Lonnie Smith to scamper from second to third, from where he scored (after a walk to Schmidt) on Bake McBride’s groundout.  Before the fly, Rose had taken a strike on a pitch he knew he couldn’t pull.


When there are runners to be advanced, you can count on Pete Rose as surely as you can count on finding politicians in the winning locker room.


But it would be stretching the point to say that you could count on Pete Rose to make the play that he did in the ninth inning.


With one out and the bases loaded, Frank White (representing the winning run for Kansas City in a 4-1 game) lifted a foul pop in front of the photographers’ booth adjacent to the Phillies’ dugout.


Bob Boone grabbed it, but the ball popped out of his mitt.  Rose snared it well before it could hit the ground.  Right then, you knew the world championship was all locked up.  Willie Wilson’s 12th strikeout four pitches later was merely a formality for the record books.


“I couldn’t hear Pete,” Boone explained later.  “I wanted to make sure the ball wouldn’t drop.  I was trying to out-rebound him; I thought we both might wind up in the dugout.


“So I lunged at it.  The ball must have hit my Gold Glove (he won it last year) and clanked out.  But Pete was as alert as ever.”


Boone said he had never been involved in such a play before.


Pete Surprised


“It’s my ball, but I saw he was going to take it, so I let him,” said Rose.  “I never take my eye off the ball.  When I saw it pop, I was really surprised, because I never saw him drop one before.”


But not too surprised.  “Yeah, I made a catch like that before, when I played the outfield,” Pete added.


Larry Bowa at shortstop saw only half the play.  “When I saw Boonie miss it, I said, ‘Oh, no,’ and put my head down,” Bowa said.  “Then I heard a cheer.”


“Typical Pete Rose,” said Tug McGraw, the pitcher.  “Always there when you need him.”


“I knew Pete would get to it some way,” said Mike Schmidt.  “That’s the kind of player he is.”


The kind of player Pete is, is one who does better in the league playoffs than the Series.  Pete went into this postseason work with a lifetime average for the playoffs of .378, and hit .400 this year.  He went in with a lifetime average for the Series of .264, and hit .261 this year.


“There’s more pressure in the playoffs,” Rose explains.  “The World Series is fun after you get through with the playoffs.”


Words From Dallas


Dallas Green talked about Rose’s contribution to the spirit of this year’s team:


“Pete and I had a good feel for each other.  The 30 days I was managing last year helped a lot.  He didn’t feel as comfortable at leading as he would have if he wasn’t a newcomer.


“But Pete agreed with most of my points, and he backed me up and got them across.  We had a good understanding.”


Of course, Pete doesn’t always agree with Dallas.  The fan who’s been following the Phillies closely will remember the walk from Nolan Ryan (his first since the second inning) which loaded the bases in the eighth inning of the fifth game in Houston.


He’ll remember his bowling over Bruce Bochy to score the winning run in the 10th inning of the fourth playoff.  And the hit batsman which started a three-run flurry in the first Series game.  And maybe even his walk to the mound to calm Marty Bystrom at a critical moment in the fifth Series game.


Didn’t Want to Bunt


But that disagreeing with the sign?  In the eighth inning of the fourth playoff game, with two on, nobody out, and the Phillies two down, Rose took a 1-1 pitch for a strike with the bunt sign on.


Now he had to hit away.  So what did he do?  He singled to right to score the gap run, moved the tying run to third, and got to second himself as the go-ahead run.


Perhaps that was the play Rose had in mind when he talked about Tuesday’s bunt being a good play because “one run might be enough with Carlton pitching.”


Of course Pete hasn’t admitted that he took that pitch because he felt he should be hitting away.  Maybe he just got fooled by the pitch.


But I’d rather bet that that was just another way Pete Rose found to be a team.

Schmidt’s Hit Earns Series MVP Award


PHILADELPHIA (AP) – The most important hit for Mike Schmidt in the Philadelphia Phillies’ march to their first World Series championship was the one he didn’t get.


“It was in the final game of the National League playoffs at Houston,” said the reluctant Series hero.  “I failed to get the hit that I wanted more than any hit in my life.”


It was the eighth inning of the fifth and decisive playoff game, the Phillies trailing the Astros 5-4 with runners at first and third.  Schmidt, the league’s top home run hitter with 48, strode to the plate.


“I struck out on three straight pitches, looking at the last one,” he added.  “I went back to the dugout saying, ‘Good Lord, what am I trying to do? ‘  I went 0-for-5 in that final game.


“I was trying too hard.  I was carrying too much on my shoulders.  It was as if I was getting a message from God.


“Del Unser, who was next up, got a hit and we finally won in 10 innings 8-7.  I was really humbled.”


Schmidt was wearing his blanket of newly found humility when he came to the plate in the third inning Tuesday with the bases loaded.


“I kept saying to myself, ‘Keep it in the park, just keep it in the park,’” he said.  “I wasn’t trying to knock it out of sight.”


The slugging third baseman drilled a single to right center, scoring the first two runs in the 4-1 victory over the Kansas City Royals that gave the Phillies their first World Series pennant ever.


Schmidt was a solid choice for the coveted Most Valuable Player award, finishing the Series with eight hits in 21 at bats for a .381 average.  He hit two homers and batted in eight runs.


The 6-foot-2, 203-pound powerhouse accepted the award with the cloak of humility he had gained 10 days before.


“I am ecstatic,” he said when he received the news at the post-game press conference.  “I wish I could chop it up into 25 pieces and spread it around.


“This is not a one-man team or a two-man team.  At least six or seven guys could have been voted MVP justifiably.  I am honored it happened to me.


“This is a team that has had to grub and claw and fight for every inch it gained.  We’ve done it all year.  When the so-called big guys let down, the little guys would pick them up.”


Schmidt said he hoped the triumph would forever douse suggestions that the Phillies are an arrogant, uncommunicative team which collapsed in big pressure situations.


“I think the charge that we are a ‘choke’ team was eliminated at Houston,” he said.  “This team is not at all the way a few people picture it.


“I think you guys will agree we have proved ourselves the way we have come back and battled when we were on the ropes.


“Sure, we have had a lot of low points – the freak ways we lost the playoffs (1976, 1977, 1978) and in other big games.


“Le me tell you, this is a team with spirit and heart.  Now when spring comes, people will be rushing down to Clearwater – not in Bradenton and St. Petersburg,” he said, referring to the new World Champions training base.


Schmidt recalled his early problems with the Philadelphia fans.


“In 1978, they booed me out of my shoes.  I batted .250 and had 20 home runs.  That wasn’t so bad.  But they still blistered me.


“I don’t play for image.  I don’t want to bring religion into it, but I play for the glory of God.”


Schmidt said one of his big disappointments was that his grandmother did not live to see him in his finest hour.


“Her name was Viola Schmidt.  The first ball I ever had, she threw it with me.  She died on my birthday – last September 27 in Dayton, Ohio.”