July 25, 1993: Fandom Reborn

July 25, 1993, 25 years ago: An era ended, in a way, and a new one began. And most baseball fans don't know, and probably wouldn't care. But it was a big day for me.

I had been a Yankee Fan since 1977, at age 7. I wasn't old enough to remember Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio or Mickey Mantle. I was a little too young to remember the pre-renovation original Yankee Stadium, and slightly too young to remember Chris Chambliss hitting a home run to win the 1976 American League Pennant.

But I do remember the Yankees winning the World Series in 1977 and 1978, and the Pennant in 1981. I remember Reggie Jackson's 3 home runs (well, 2 of them, as my parents made me go to bed, as it was a school night), the 14-game comeback against the Boston Red Sox, Bucky Dent's home run, Thurman Munson's blast against the Kansas City Royals in the Playoffs and his death in a plane crash the next year, Ron Guidry's strikeouts, Graig Nettles' miraculous plays at 3rd base, Goose Gossage dominating in relief, Dave Righetti's 4th of July no-hitter in 1983, Dave Winfield's tomahawks into left field, and Don Mattingly's big hits.

But I also remember the near-misses of the 1980s, team owner George Steinbrenner's managerial musical chairs, the triumphs and tragedies of Billy Martin, the collapse at the end of the 1980s, and George's "temporary lifetime" banishment in 1990.

The rebuilding of the Yankees under general manager Gene Michael was underway. By 1993, the Mets were a mess both competitively and behaviorally, and the Yankees were ready to contend again. The Mets have not been definitively the best baseball team in New York ever since, not even during the 2015 season, when they won the National League Pennant and the Yankees lost in the AL Wild Card Game.

Buck Showalter was the manager. Mattingly was already the last holdover from the Eighties. Now, there were dependable veterans like Wade Boggs, Jimmy Key and Paul O'Neill, and rising players like Bernie Williams. More trades would be made, and more prospects would develop.

But you could sense that something good was happening. We didn't yet know if, say, 1996 would be a new 1976, or a false dawn that would collapse by 1999 as it did in 1989. But things were looking good, and the Yankees spent the Summer of '93 battling the defending World Champion Toronto Blue Jays for the lead in the AL Eastern Division.

On July 17, I was with the youth group at the Aldersgate United Methodist Church in my hometown of East Brunswick, New Jersey. Given our location, some of us were Yankee Fans, a few of us were Met fans, and a couple of us rooted for the Philadelphia Phillies, who were in the other direction, but not much further away than New York was. (The church was 49 miles from Yankee Stadium, 50 miles from Shea Stadium, and 63 miles from Veterans Stadium. The ballparks have changed, the distances have not.)

We spent the night of July 17-18 at a church in Fredericksburg, Virginia. We had lunch on the 18th in Dunn, North Carolina, just off Interstate 95. At Triangle Waffle, I had the best hamburger I'd ever had to that point. It was so good, I ordered a second for the road.

We arrived at Kingstree, South Carolina, with the Carolinas caught in the middle of a terrible heat wave and drought, while the Midwest, especially Iowa and Illinois, had some of the worst flooding in American history. It was a stark contrast. The State, South Carolina's largest paper, based in the State capital of Columbia, had a cartoon showing the State flag, with the traditional Palmetto tree replaced by a cactus.

At night, inside my sleeping bag (we were about 7 to a room), I would fiddle with the radio dial on my Walkman, and picked up the New York radio stations and their baseball broadcasts. I got broadcasts from as far west as St. Louis and New Orleans. (Then as now, New Orleans had a Triple-A team, but I didn't get their game, only a news station.) I still have that Walkman, although it no longer works. And it's my fault: I left it unused so long, the batteries leaked, and ruined the interior.

In the morning, with the Internet still just a rumor to me (we were still using the phrase "the information superhighway"), I would get newspapers. I saw the color photo of the press box fire at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium on the front page of the Charleston, South Carolina-based Post and Courier. Color pictures in newspapers was still a big deal, and the Atlanta Braves were the closest Major League Baseball team to us.

The fire was put out, no one was hurt, the regularly-scheduled game was played, and, with newly-acquired Fred McGriff hitting a home run, they beat the St. Louis Cardinals.

We spent 5 days fixing up a house, and at the end, were treated to a Carolina chicken dinner. Too spicy for me. On Saturday, the 24th, we headed for the shore and the boardwalk -- not the Jersey Shore, but Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Not only was I not impressed, but it was about as rednecky a place as you could get and still have a beach.

We spent the night at a church in Raleigh, North Carolina. According to the pictures on the wall in the foyer, one of the church leaders was named Michael Jordan. Sure, it's a fairly common name, but we were in North Carolina -- and the news of the Michael Jordan's father having disappeared was in the news. We didn't yet know that he'd been murdered.

And so, that Sunday, July 25, 1993, we went up first Interstate 85, then I-95, heading north, back home. And we went back and forth, listening to whatever radio broadcast of baseball we could pick up. The Yankees were then on WABC, AM 770, but we couldn't yet reach them in Virginia.

Nor could we pick up the Mets on WFAN, 660; and it didn't matter, anyway, because they were playing the Dodgers in Los Angeles, and were a 4:05 PM Eastern Time start. Same with the Phillies, at AM 1210, then with the call letters WOGL, as they were playing the Giants in San Francisco. But the Baltimore Orioles, at WBAL, 1090 (a.k.a. "Radio 11"), were loud and clear. There was, of course, no Washington Nationals yet.

Jon Miller, now with the Giants, was then the voice of the Orioles, and he has the perfect voice for baseball on the radio. And he told us that the Yankees were already losing 8-0 to the California Angels in the 2nd inning. Melido Perez had already been knocked out of the box. Forget it, it was over.

How over was it? According to Baseball-Reference.com, at that point, the Angels had a 97 percent chance of winning the game.

Among the scoring was a home run by Charles "Chili" Davis. This guy always hit the Yankees well. I was so glad the Yankees acquired him in 1998, not for anything he could do for them, but for the fact that he would no longer be doing anything to them. He did, however, help the Yankees win the World Series in 1998 and 1999 -- but in 1993, we had no idea of what was ahead for the Bronx Bombers.

Mike Stanley, then the Yankee catcher, led off the bottom of the 2nd with a home run, but it was still only 8-1. Nobody expected any comeback.

Anyway, we went back to the Orioles at 1090. They were in Minneapolis, and ended up losing to the Minnesota Twins 5-2.

Other American League scores that day: Boston Red Sox 8, Oakland Athletics 1 at Fenway; Cleveland Indians 11, Seattle Mariners 9 at Municipal Stadium; Detroit Tigers 3, Kansas City Royals 0 at Tiger Stadium; Milwaukee Brewers 7, Chicago White Sox 3 on the South Side; Toronto Blue Jays 9, Texas Rangers 7 in Arlington.

In the National League: Florida Marlins 7, Cincinnati Reds 3 at Joe Robbie Stadium; Braves 13, Pittsburgh Pirates 1 at Three Rivers; Chicago Cubs 3, Houston Astros 1 in 11 innings at the Astrodome; Cardinals 5, Colorado Rockes 4 in 11 innings in Denver; and Montreal Expos 5, San Diego Padres 4 in 10 innings at Jack Murphy Stadium.

We got stuck in traffic on the Virginia side of the Potomac, found our way around the Capital Beltway, and headed back up I-95 toward Baltimore. But by the time we reached Camden Yards, vacant as the O's were on the road, Miller was giving the out-of-town scoreboard, and informed us that the Yankees had come back, and it was 8-7 Angels in the 7th inning.

Now, WABC was coming in. And the Yankees got the 1st 2 men on in the bottom of the 8th. But they couldn't get those men home, and still trailed 8-7 after 8.

By now, the Mets' game in L.A. had begun. But there was only 1 Met fan in that van, 1 Phillie fan, and about 10 Yankee Fans. We were sticking with the Pinstripes.

Bottom of the 9th. Steve Frey pitching for the Halos. Danny Tartabull led off, and drew a walk. Cliché Alert: Walks can kill you, especially the leadoff variety. Stanley came up, and hit what we later learned (on the TV news) was a perfect double-play grounder to short, but Gary DiSarcina let it go between his legs, Bill Buckner-style. For the 2nd straight inning, the Yankees had 1st and 2nd on, and nobody out.

Cliché Alert: "He runs well for a catcher." Well, nobody ever used that cliché on Stanley, so Showalter sent in a pinch-runner: Hensley Meulens, once a tremendous prospect known as "Bam-Bam" for his power, but, by this point, a massive disappointment.

Bernie Williams was at the plate. Angel catcher Ron Tingley couldn't handle a Frey pitch, and it was a passed ball. Now, the tying and winning runs were in scoring position. In spite of the fact that nobody was out, Angel manager Robert "Buck" Rodgers ordered Bernie intentionally walked, to load the bases and set up a force play at home.

The batter was Paul O'Neill. He hit a fly ball to left, deep enough to score Tartabull with the tying run.

Up came the shortstop. Number 2. No, not Derek Jeter. We had barely heard any whispers about him, as he was in only his 2nd, 1st full, season of pro ball. This was Mike Gallego, a part of the Oakland Athletics' quasi-dynasty of 1988-92, and a decent player, but hardly what Jeter would become. He flew out to center. Meulens, who hadn't advanced to 3rd on O'Neill's fly, did so now. The winning run was on 3rd, but there were 2 outs.

Somewhere between the Baltimore Beltway and the Delaware State Line, we were going nuts in that van.

The batter was Pat Kelly. A good 2nd baseman, and an okay hitter. Nothing special. Except for this moment. He faced 1 pitch, and hit a sharp line drive to left field. Meulens scored. Yankees 9, Angels 8. John Habyan was the winning pitcher, in relief. Attendance: 50,429.

I thought I could hear Phil Rizzuto yell, "Holy cow!" from 150 miles away. The game was on WPIX-Channel 11, and, as I learned while watching the 11:00 edition of WABC-Channel 7's Eyewitness News, he did yell it.

There is an urban legend that says that this was the 1st time that John Sterling, on the radio, used the words, "Ballgame over! Yankees win! Theeeeeeee Yankees win!" But I never heard him drag the "the" out until Bernie's walkoff home run in Game 1 of the 1996 AL Championship Series against Baltimore. He did use "Yankees win! The Yankees win!" as early as the Jim Leyritz Game, Game 2 of the 1995 AL Division Series against Seattle.

But in that van on that warm Sunday afternoon on the John F. Kennedy Memorial Highway in Cecil County, northeastern Maryland, we were bouncing around that van like a pinball machine. Until the 1 Met fan asked us if we could now switch to the Mets broadcast.

So we did. By the time we got back to the church in East Brunswick, the Mets were on their way to wrapping up a 4-0 win over the Dodgers at Chavez Ravine. So, for the day, New York 2, Los Angeles 0. Fine with me. Like the O's, the Phils lost 5-2, to the Giants.

I was a little older than most of the kids on the trip: 23, as opposed to these 14-to-18-year-old high schoolers and recent graduates. It was the 1st time that I felt like an adult baseball fan.

That week, between the newspapers and the radio, it felt like my fandom, for both the sport and for my individual team, had been reborn.

And the next few years would both test and reward my fandom.

I can't say I loved every minute of it. But I loved a lot of those minutes!