Yankees vs. Red Sox, The Defining Moments, Part IV: 1983-2001

July 4, 1983, Yankee Stadium. Both teams have changed tremendously in 5 years. The rivalry has fallen a bit. Despite the opponent and the 4th of July holiday, only 41,077 fans come out to The Stadium. Why? Well, it is the 4th of July, and it's really hot, so it's a beach day, not a baseball day. And neither team is really in the race.

This game would be totally forgotten by anyone who wasn't there... if it wasn't for Dave Righetti pitching a no-hitter. He even managed to strike out the tough-to-fan Wade Boggs for the final out. Yankees 4, Red Sox 0.

October 5, 1986, Fenway Park. The Yankees beat the Red Sox, 7-0, and complete a 4-game sweep. However, this not-quite Boston Massacre -- this was the only real blowout of the series -- is meaningless, as the Sox had already clinched the American League Eastern Division title a weak earlier.

This was because the Sox had great starting pitching: Roger Clemens, Bruce Hurst, Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, and even the final, somewhat hard-luck season of Tom Seaver. In contrast, the Yanks' rotation was weak: While Dennis Rasmussen went 18-6, no other Yankee pitcher, starter or reliever, won in double figures. Ron Guidry had an uncharacteristic 9-12 after winning 22 the year before, and Doug Drabek, Bob Tewksbury and 41-year-old knuckleballer Joe Niekro (whose brother Phil had pitched for the Yanks the preceding 2 years) won just 34 between them.

Also, Boggs, who did have the excuse of a sore hamstring, sat this series out, and wins the AL batting title over Don Mattingly, who slumped badly in the last 2 weeks.

October 25, 1986, Shea Stadium, New York. For Yankee Fans, this was the nightmare scenario: A World Series between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Mets. For the record, at the time, I hated the Mets more, and I had a little sympathy for Sox fans and their World Series drought, then 68 years, so I rooted for the Sox.

If it were ever to happen again? I would root for aliens to come and beam up the entire stadium. Including both sets of fans? Especially both sets of fans.

While "The Bill Buckner Game" was played in New York City, and it did make the Sox look like morons, it had nothing to do with the Yankees, and it makes the Mets look heroic, and I don't think either Yankee Fans or Sox fans want to hear about it. So let's just move on.

September 28, 1987, Yankee Stadium. Mike Easler -- not traded from Boston to New York for Don Baylor in the 1985-86 off-season, although it did sort of work out that way -- treats Calvin Schiraldi even more harshly than the Mets did in the previous year's World Series. He hits a pinch-hit home run to win the game, 9-7.

May 27, 1991, Yankee Stadium. The Sox are the defending AL East Champions (and would barely be nipped by the Toronto Blue Jays at the end this time), while the Yankees had finished last the year before. Only 32,369 come out for this Memorial Day matinée between the two old rivals, and the Yanks trail 5-3 in the bottom of the 9th.

But Mel Hall -- who would later leave the Yankees under ignominious circumstances -- takes Jeff "the Terminator" Reardon deep. Yankees 6, Red Sox 5. Maybe Sox fans can blame the 1st base umpire, Larry Barnett, the same ump who they, in their delusions, think screwed them in Game 3 of the '75 World Series.

A lot of Yankee Fans point to this game as the beginning of the rise from the abyss. It wasn't: 1991 and '92 were both bad years, though not as bad as '89 and '90. But the building blocks were in place: George Steinbrenner had been suspended for 2 years, former good-field-no-hit infielder Gene Michael was running the show as general manager, and the Yankees were making good trades and draft choices, including, the following June, a shortstop born in North Jersey, but raised in Kalamazoo, Michigan and graduating from Kalamazoo Central High School. His name was Derek Jeter.

This Mel Hall homer is also cited by some as the beginning of Yankee broadcaster John Sterling's closing call of, "Ballgame over! Yankees win! Theeeeeeee Yankees win!" I'm not so sure. Granted, I was watching this one on WPIX-Channel 11 with Phil Rizzuto, Bobby Murcer and Tom Seaver, rather than listening to Sterling and Joe Angel on 77 WABC.  But even as late as Jim Leyritz's 1995 Playoff walkoff against Seattle, his "Theeeeeeee... " was still just a "The... " without much elongation.

September 14, 1991, Yankee Stadium. This was my first live Yanks-Sox game, included among an attendance of 45,758. This was a 4-game series, and the Sox won 3 of them. Not this one: Yankees 3, Red Sox 1. And, yes, Sox fans were every bit as obnoxious as you might expect, especially since they were still in the race (they'd be caught at the death by those pesky Blue Jays) and the Yanks were awful, having just begun their climb back from the abyss of last place the season before.

December 15, 1992, Yankee Stadium. Having been allowed to leave via free agency by the Sox, Boggs signs with the Yankees. It was weird seeing him in Pinstripes, but I got used to it, because he could still hit for average, began to hit with power (aided by the short porch in right field at Yankee Stadium), and his fielding, already good, got better.

October 26, 1996, Yankee Stadium. The Yankees beat the Atlanta Braves, 3-2, to win Game 6 and clinch the World Series, their first such win in 18 years. A moment in time by Red Sox standards, but interminable by ours.

Boggs, who'd come so close with the 1986 Red Sox, and signed with the Yankees prior to the 1993 season and became part of the restoration, got on a policeman's horse and rode around the field in the celebration. Rubbing it in? He may not have thought so, but we sure did.

As Denis Leary, a native of Worcester, Massachusetts, a big Sox fan, but also with connections to New York through his comedy career and his TV series The Job and Rescue Me (about policemen and firemen, respectively), put it: "If you had told my father in 1986 that, within 10 years, Wade Boggs would be celebrating winning a World Series with the Yankees while riding on the back of a police horse, his head would have blown up."

May 24, 1997, Yankee Stadium. Charlie Hayes is best remembered by Yankee Fans for catching the last out of the 1996 World Series. Almost forgotten is this game the following spring, in which he hit a walkoff homer against John Wasdin -- or "Wayback Wasdin," as some Sox fans called him. Yankees 4, Red Sox 2.

February 18, 1999, Yankee Stadium. Although the rivalry was amped up a little bit by the Yankees signing Boggs, Boggs riding that horse, and the arrivals in Boston of Pedro Martinez and Nomar Garciaparra -- the latter forging a rivalry-within-the-rivalry with Yankee shortstop Jeter -- and the Sox had made the Playoffs the season before, this is the day the rivalry really gets going again.

On this day, the Yankees trade pitchers David Wells and Graeme Lloyd, and infielder Homer Bush, to the Toronto Blue Jays for Roger Clemens, whom the Red Sox had cast aside 2 years earlier. Then-Sox general manager Dan Duquette saw Clemens not getting enough run support to get a plus-.500 record, and gaining weight, and said he was "in the twilight of his career."

Whether Duquette blew it big-time, or Clemens really was in the twilight of his career and turned that around with performance-enhancing drugs, may never be fully proven. What we know for sure is this: One way or another, Clemens got back into shape, had 2 great years with the Jays, and became a Yankee Legend, albeit one most of us on the Light Side of The Force are not comfortable with. By contrast, Sox fans have treated Clemens as their "Darth Vader," forgetting just which side is good and which side is evil.

July 13, 1999, Fenway Park, Boston. The Major League Baseball All-Star Game is held at the ancient home of the Sox. Yankee manager Joe Torre is manager for the American League team. Nomar Garciaparra of the Red Sox starts for the American League at shortstop and receives a standing ovation from the fans after Jeter comes in to replace him after they embrace. Later in the game when he came to bat, Jeter gave Garciaparra a tribute by mimicking his batting stance. Pedro starts for the AL and strikes out 5 of the 6 National League batters he faces.

Before the game, nominees for the MLB All-Century Team are introduced. The legends wear the current caps of their teams, not necessarily the caps their teams wore in their own time. One of the nominees is Reggie Jackson, former recipient of "Reggie Sucks!" chants from the Fenway stands, and he gets a nice cheer. Hearing this, he looks at the TV camera, wearing his Yankee cap, and winks.

There was only one person among the nominees who was booed: Clemens. He wore not the cap of the team that made him famous, the Sox, but of the team for whom he played at the moment, the Yanks. Tremendous booing. Heck, even Rickey Henderson got cheered. (Barry Bonds, not yet known as a steroid cheat, was not in attendance, as he was not named to the NL All-Star Team that year, although he was an All-Century Team nominee.) The AL wins the game.

July 30, 1999, Fenway Park. I was there for this one. The Sox had recently published their plans for New Fenway Park, to be built across the street, and I figured this might be my last chance to see a Yanks-Sox game at Fenway in the heat of a Pennant race. Who knew at the time that, 10 years later, Fenway would still stand, and it would be the Yankees who would build a new stadium across their street?

I paid a scalper $42 for a $24 obstructed-view seat. It was worth every penny. On the 2nd pitch of the game, Chuck Knoblauch hit a home run over the Green Monster. On the 5th pitch of the game, Derek Jeter hit a home run to dead center field. The victimized Sox pitcher was Mark Portugal, who had been a fair pitcher with the Houston Astros, but was now washed up, would retire after the season, and literally fell off the mound a few pitches later.

The Yanks left the 1st inning ahead 2-0, and while the Sox did tie it up, the Yanks unloaded the lumber afterward. Yankees 13, Red Sox 3. Joe Torre let Hideki Irabu pitch a complete game. No, I'm not kidding: Torre let a pitcher go the distance, and Hideki I-rob-you, no less.

At the start of the game, there were 33,777 paying customers in Fenway, and about 10,000 of them were Yankee Fans. By the 7th inning stretch, there were about 15,000 people there, and about 10,000 of them were chanting, "Let's go, Yankees!" A great night. I even ran into a guy who played football at my high school, who was by this point going to Boston College. And he was also a Yankee Fan. What were the odds?

September 10, 1999, Yankee Stadium. Chili Davis hits a home run off Pedro Martinez. That's the only hit that Pedro allows, and he strikes out 17 batters, the most ever fanned by a Yankee opponent. Had Andy Pettitte not allowed a home run to Trot Nixon, Pedro would have pitched a one-hitter and struck out 17 Yankees, and lost. Instead... Red Sox 3, Yankees 1.

Pedro begins to achieve godlike status among Sox fans, a status achieved since World War II only by Ted Williams, Tony Conigliaro, Carl Yastrzemski, Carlton Fisk and Nomar. But the Yankees win the American League Eastern Division, while the Sox get the Wild Card.

October 13, 1999, Yankee Stadium.  Game 1 of the American League Championship Series. Because the Boston Tie Party of 1978 is officially counted as a regular-season game, this is the first "real" postseason game between the Pinstripes and The Scum. Sox fans are sure that their deliverance from the Yankees and the Curse of the Bambino are finally at hand.

Not tonight: Bernie Williams hits a home run to dead center field off Rod Beck. Yankees 4, Red Sox 3. The Yanks will take Game 2 as well.

October 16, 1999, Fenway Park. Game 3. Pedro pitches superbly, while the Sox batter Clemens. As Clemens walks off the mound after getting knocked out of the box, a fan holds up a sign saying, "Roger, thanks for the memories -- especially this one!" One side of Fenway chants, "Where is Roger?" The other side chants, "In the shower!" Red Sox 13, Yankees 1. Sox fans are delirious, and are now sure they will beat the Yanks and go all the way.

But, as Boston Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy, the man who popularized the phrase "Curse of the Bambino," pointed out, the point was not to beat Clemens, but to win the series. And the Sox still trail it, 2 games to 1. The Yankees don't lose again until April.

October 17, 1999, Fenway Park. Game 4.  Admittedly, there were a couple of umpiring mistakes that worked in the Yanks' favor. But it's still 3-2 Yanks in the 9th, and poor fielding leads to a Ricky Ledée grand slam off Beck. Sox fans, furious at the umpiring, throw garbage onto the field.

Since then, the description of Boston as "the Athens of America" gets this response from me: "Bullshit." While there were many fans who had stood by the Sox through all the torment, this was a limited few who had come to the team through Pedro and Nomar, and were more likely to get blitzed than the ones who did so in '78, and they were animals. Of course, these are the ones who get noticed, the kind that got stereotyped as the "Red Sox fans" we have come to know, lampooned on Saturday Night Live by Jimmy Fallon (before he moved on to the U.S. version of Fever Pitch).

Anyway, Yankees 9, Red Sox 2.

October 18, 1999, Fenway Park. Jeter and Jorge Posada hit home runs, Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez pitches superbly, and the Yankees beat the Red Sox, 6-1, and clinch the Pennant, and danceon the field at Fenway. They go on to win the World Series.

April 22, 2001, Yankee Stadium. David Justice bangs his gavel off Derek Lowe, hitting a walkoff homer to give the Yanks a 4-3 win.

May 24, 2001, Yankee Stadium. On the 60th birthday of Bob Dylan -- a man who once wrote a song about Catfish Hunter, and another song titled "Seven Curses" (but it had nothing to do with baseball) -- Pedro is getting ready to pitch against the Yankees. "I don't believe in curses," Pedro says. "Wake up the damn Bambino, and have me face him. Maybe I'll drill him in the ass."

But the Yankees beat him. Yankees 2, Red Sox 1. The Yanks move into first place, Pedro gets hurt in his next start, and doesn't win another game for the rest of the season.

You don't believe in curses? You mock Babe Ruth -- a better pitcher than you were, Pedro? What a fool. As Dylan might have said, "They'll stone you just like they said they would."

September 2, 2001, Fenway Park. Mike Mussina comes within one strike of pitching a perfect game, but Carl Everett's 9th-inning, two-out, two-strike single is the only baserunner allowed by Mussina. By an amazing coincidence, David Cone, the last Yankee pitcher to throw a perfect game in 1999, had started the game for the Red Sox. Yankees 1, Red Sox 0.

September 18, 2001, Fenway Park. The Sox play their first game since the 9/11 attacks.  They play the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, and win, 7-2.  A fan at Fenway holds up a banner of solidarity, which would have been unimaginable 8 days earlier (and on most days since September 2001): "TODAY, WE (HEART) NY." The Yankees also play their first game following the resumption of play, in Chicago against the White Sox, and win, 11-3.

December 20, 2001, Fenway Park. The JRY Trust, named for Jean Yawkey, sells the Sox to New England Sports Ventures, the company now named Fenway Sports Group, run by John W. Henry. This ends 79 years of Yawkey family-connected ownership of the Sox. (Tom and Jean never had any children to take over for them; Jean inherited the team when Tom died in 1976, and John Harrington had run the club through the Trust since Jean's death in 1992.)

The Henry group, including former Florida Marlins owner Henry, former Baltimore Orioles and San Diego Padres president Larry Lucchino, and the youngest general manager in the game at the time, Theo Epstein, change the culture around the club. The fans, having already changed into the Chowdaheads that they became at the dawn of the Nomar-Pedro era, don't change, but they sure embrace this change.

Part V is ahead.

December 31, 1999 & January 1, 2000: The Millennium

December 31, 1999, 25 years ago: The Millennium arrives. The people of planet Earth survived. At a terrible cost. But we hadn't destroyed ourselves. It felt like a great achievement. It was, "Hey, we made it! We actually made it! This is something really worth celebrating!"

January 1, 2000: As time zone after time zone turned over from 11:59 to 12:00, there was great joy -- literally, all over the world.

It didn't last. So far, the 21st Century has been a bust. In words that have been attributed to, among others, Yankee Legend Yogi Berra, then 74 years old, "The future ain't what it used to be."

December 31, 1999 was a Friday. It was the day that Boris Yeltsin resigned as President of Russia, handing the office over to the Prime Minister -- Vladimir Putin. It was the day that Elliot Richardson died. He remains the only person to serve the President of the United States in 4 different Cabinet posts, including Attorney General, an office he resigned rather than follow Richard Nixon's unconstitutional order in "the Saturday Night Massacre" in 1973.

It was also the day that actors Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones announced their engagement. They had to wait to get married until Douglas' divorce from current wife Diandra Luker was final. The ceremony was held on November 18, 2000.

And the computer problem known as "The Y2K Bug"? Not much happened. A few minor things, like scattered automatic teller machines (ATMs) at banks not quite working properly. But that was it: The computers didn't cause an apocalypse, or even an inconvenient power outage.

Why? Because changing the format from one that would have followed 12-31-99 with 01-01-00, and thus caused computers to think it was January 1, 1900, and thus confuse them into not working, into one that would recognize 01-01-2000, was a problem that human society took seriously, and properly handled. We'll never know what would have happened if we got it wrong, because we, as a people, stepped up, did what we had to do, and got it right.

And nobody stepped forward to say that the Y2K Bug was just a hoax perpetrated by liberals to take away your freedom, like gun control already had been for 20 years, and COVID-19 would be 20 years later.

Several big-city arenas hosted concerts, usually (but not exclusively) by local artists. Billy Joel played Madison Square Garden. James Taylor, who grew up in North Carolina and wrote and sang "Carolina In My Mind," played the Raleigh Entertainment and Sports Arena (now the Lenovo Center) in Raleigh.

Cher played Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City. From the New York side of New Jersey rather than from New England, Bruce Springsteen played the FleetCenter (now the TD Garden) in Boston. Quebec native Celine Dion played the Molson Centre (now the Bell Centre) in Montreal.

John Denver, singer of "Rocky Mountain High," the natural choice to play the Pepsi Center (now the Ball Arena) in Denver, was already dead, so the artist in residence that night was New York native Neil Diamond. Elton John played Circus Maximus at Caesars Palace outside Las Vegas. Los Angeles-based rock band The Eagles played that city's Staples Center (now the Crypto.com Arena). NSYNC played the Blaisdell Arena in Honolulu, the arena that had hosted Elvis Presley's "Aloha from Hawaii via Satellite" concert in 1973.

And the American Airlines Arena opened in Miami. Naturally, the choice to open it was Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine. The building is now named the Kaseya Center.

Neither Paul McCartney nor Bob Dylan played a concert that night. Michael Jackson was scheduled to play Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, but had to cancel after being injured in a concert in Munich, Germany.

October 26, 1999: The Chad Curtis Game

October 26, 1999, 25 years ago: Game 3 of the World Series. Andy Pettitte did not have his good stuff, but home runs by Tino Martinez, Chad Curtis and Chuck Knoblauch helped the Yankees come from 5-1 down to send the game to extra innings. Curtis led off the bottom of the 10th, and knocked one out for a 6-5 win.

The following night, the Yanks wrapped up the sweep, the 25th World Championship, the title of Team of the Decade (it ain't about Division Titles, Braves fans), and the title, as NBC's Bob Costas said that next night, of "Most Successful Franchise of the Century."

Like fellow late 1990s Yankee Dynasty players Roger Clemens and John Wetteland, Curtis was among the most faith-vocal players of his era. Also like Clemens and Wetteland, he would later be accused of what would once have been quaintly called "morals charges," relating to his time as a high school athletic trainer in Michigan. He was sentenced to 7 to 15 years in prison, and served 7. He has not been employed in baseball since.

October 19, 1999: Kenny Rogers Walks Andruw Jones

Historically, October 19 has been a bad day for New York baseball teams:

* October 19, 1976: Game 3 of the World Series, the 1st Series game at the renovated Yankee Stadium. The Yankees lost to the Cincinnati Reds, and were swept.

* October 19, 1986: Game 2 of the World Series, and the Mets fall 2 games to 0 behind the Boston Red Sox. But they came from behind to win.

* October 19, 2004: Game 6 of the American League Championship Series. Alex Rodriguez and the Slap Play. The Red Sox complete the comeback, and set up the Game 7 embarrassment.

* October 19, 2006: Game 7 of the National League Championship Series. Yadier Molina hits a home run, and Carlos Beltrán leaves the bat on his shoulder, and the Mets lose the Pennant.

* October 19, 2010: Game 4 of the ALCS. The Yankees lose at home to the Texas Rangers.

* October 19, 2019: Game 6 of the ALCS. Jose Altuve vs. Aroldis Chapman. 

This one stands out as much as any of them:

October 19, 1999, 25 years ago: A wild National League Championship Series, just 2 days after Robin Ventura's "Grand Slam Single" won Game 5 at Shea Stadium, moves on to an even wilder Game 6 at Turner Field in Atlanta. (The stadium is now known as Center Parc Stadium.) The Atlanta Braves blow Al Leiter off the mound with 5 runs in the 1st inning, and later lead the Mets, 7-3. But the Mets storm back, with Mike Piazza tying the game with a home run. The Braves take an 8-7 lead late, but the Mets tie it. The Mets take a 9-8 lead in the 10th, but the Braves tie it.

In the bottom of the 11th inning, the Braves load the bases, and Met manager Bobby Valentine, instead of bringing in righthanded reliever Octavio Dotel to pitch to righthanded hitter Andruw Jones, brings in lefthander Kenny Rogers. Rogers has been one of the top pitchers in baseball in regular-season play the last few years, but his postseason experience has been limited to some terrible outings for the Yankees in 1996 and '97. For whatever reason, Valentine brings him in to face the Braves'
kinderwonder from the Netherlands Antilles.

I watched this game on TV with my father, who was a nominal Met fan (the only sports team he really cared about was Rutgers football), and it was this series, with all its twists and turns, that led him to finally understand what lunatics like me see in the game of baseball.

And I remember telling him, late in the game, that this game and this series deserved to end with a hero, and that it would be a shame if it ended with a goat.

With a 3-2 count on Jones, Rogers threw a pitch low and outside. Jones would not swing at it. Ball 4. 10-9 Braves. Winning run forced home. Pennant dream over.

If Jones had gotten a hit, to drive home the Pennant-winning run, he would have been a hero, and you couldn't really criticize anyone on the Mets. They had fought gallantly, at moments even brilliantly, from a 3-games-to-none deficit.

Of course, no one had ever come back from such a deficit to win a postseason series. Not in baseball, anyway. None had even forced a Game 7. None had even forced a Game 6 until the Braves themselves did it the year before against the San Diego Padres in the NLCS.

Back from 3-0 to win the series? That was never going to happen in baseball. Everybody who had ever watched baseball was thinking that in October 1999. If only it had stayed that way for 5 more years, plus a couple more days.

Was the goat Rogers, for pitching poorly when his team needed him to get one more out and get out of the 11th-inning jam? Or was the goat Valentine, for yet another dimwitted bullpen move? (Paging Mel Rojas, and that was in a game with far less significance.)

Did this move convince him to leave Leiter in to face Luis Sojo in Game 5 of the next year's World Series after 141 pitches? Who knows. Bobby V himself probably doesn't know.

What is known is that the Mets had taken their fans on a thrilling ride, their first October ride in 11 years, and provided them with treasured moments on the ride... and then they crashed. What a way for the Mets and their fans to end the 20th Century.

One more thing: In the 2010s, in sports, "goat" ceased to be short for "scapegoat," someone or something you blamed for a defeat; and became an abbreviation: "GOAT," meaning "Greatest Of All Time." It even became a verb: A player who had reached elite status was said to have been "goated." To those of us old enough to remember earlier times, this sounds really stupid.

July 18, 1999: David Cone's Perfect Game

July 18, 1999, 25 years ago: It wasn't quite a perfect day at the original Yankee Stadium in The Bronx, New York City. After all, it was brutally hot: 92 degrees at first pitch, and it felt even hotter. Other than that, it was about as close to perfect as you can get, as 2 of baseball's most memorable characters combined for a truly historic day.

In 1985, New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner fired team legend Yogi Berra as manager. But he sent front-office official Clyde King to tell him. Being fired wasn't the problem for Yogi: It had happened before, as Yankee manager after the 1964 season, and as New York Mets manager during the 1975 season. He knew: As the old saying goes, "That's baseball."

The problem was that, this time, George didn't tell him face-to-face, man-to-man. So Yogi said he would never return to Yankee Stadium as long as George owned the team. George knew that, even if the managerial change was the right thing to do -- and, competitively speaking, it was, as, under Billy Martin in his 4th run as manager, the Yankees got a lot better, and nearly won the American League Eastern Division -- it was a public-relations nightmare. Nobody ever won a popularity contest with Yogi Berra.

George tried to lure Yogi back. He invited him to every Old-Timers Day. He never came. He dedicated a plaque in Yankee Stadium's Monument Park for Yogi in 1988, and also for Yogi's predecessor and catching mentor, Bill Dickey. Dickey, 80 years old, in a wheelchair, and living far away in Arkansas, came. Yogi, 63, in good health, and living nearby in Montclair, New Jersey, didn't come.

George even tried to give Old-Timers Days themes that involved Yogi. The 1991 edition was a tribute to Joe DiMaggio on the 50th Anniversary of his hitting streak. Yogi didn't go back that far, but George was sure he would turn up to honor the Yankee Clipper. He didn't. The 1996 edition was a tribute to Don Larsen on the 40th Anniversary of his World Series perfect game, still the only single-pitcher no-hitter ever pitched in the World Series, and Yogi was the catcher. Yogi didn't come. Later that year, when the Monument to Mickey Mantle, who'd died the year before, was to be unveiled, Whitey Ford came, but he unveiled the Monument alone, as Yogi didn't come.

In 1997, Interleague Play came into Major League Baseball. The Yankees played the Mets at Yankee Stadium. Yogi is the only man to manage both teams to Pennants: The Yankees in the American League in 1964, the Mets in the National League in 1973. George invited Yogi. He didn't come. 

In 1998, the "Subway Series" (a misnomer: Only a World Series can truly be a Subway Series) was held at Shea Stadium for the 1st time. The Mets invited Yogi to throw out a ceremonial first ball. Not only did he accept, but he wore a Mets cap for the occasion -- and got a nice hand from Met fans, many of whom still blaming him for starting Tom Seaver in Game 6 of the 1973 World Series, instead of saving him for Game 7, and losing the Series. But the Mets reached out, Yogi accepted, and the Met fans reacted. That must have really ticked George off.

On March 8, 1999, DiMaggio died. A few days earlier, in the hospital, George visited him. Joe gave George a last request: Patch things up with Yogi. A few days later, at Spring Training, George was approached by Yankee broadcaster Suzyn Waldman, who said, "I'd like to talk to you about Yogi." With Joe's death still on his mind, George got concerned, and said, "Why? What's wrong?"

At that, Suzyn knew that there was a chance. George told her he was ready to apologize to Yogi. Suzyn told Yogi this. A meeting was set up at the Yogi Berra Museum & Learning Center, on the campus of Montclair State University in Little Falls, New Jersey, not far from Yogi's house. George came, and apologized. Yogi, whose many odd sayings included "It ain't over 'til it's over," had the perfect thing to say: "It's over."

George invited Yogi to throw out the ceremonial first ball on Opening Day, and he did. George invited Yogi to the dedication for the new Monument for DiMaggio -- as with Mantle, the former plaque was replaced with a monument upon the player's death -- and he came. George invited Yogi to Old-Timers Day, and this was the big deal, the thing everybody wanted: Yogi now had grandchildren who had never seen him wear a Yankee uniform. Now, they had seen it.

And Yogi Berra Day was set for July 18. It was a very hot day, and the country was still in something of a daze because of the disappearance of John F. Kennedy Jr., whose plane had not yet been found, and many were hanging onto a thin hope that he and his passengers, his wife and her sister, would be found alive. (They were found, but dead.) So it didn't feel like a great day at first.

But Yogi received all kinds of gifts, including the copy of his plaque that had waited 11 years. When he gave a speech, there were no "Yogi-isms," just a heartfelt message of thanks: To his family, to his surviving teammates, to the current Yankees for making him feel welcome, and to George. To finish the ceremony, Yogi caught a first ball, pitched by Larsen.

Yogi Berra (left) and Don Larsen, July 18, 1999

A year earlier, David Wells had pitched a perfect game for the Yankees against the Minnesota Twins. Larsen wasn't there, but someone realized that Wells and Larsen, the only 2 men to pitch a perfect game for the Yankees to that point, had both gone to Point Loma High School in San Diego, and a phone call was set up between them.

The Yankees then played their game, with Yogi's Number 8 written in chalk on each foul line. It was an Interleague game, against the Montreal Expos, and the Yankees' starting pitcher was David Cone. The Kansas City native had reached the major leagues with the Mets in 1987, too late to be a part of their recent World Series winners. He helped them win the NL Eastern Division in 1988, and had struck out 19 batters in the 1991 season finale, tying what was then the major league record. But there was a wedge between him and Mets management, and he was let go.

In 1992, he helped the Toronto Blue Jays win the World Series. In 1993, he went to his hometown Kansas City Royals, and won a Cy Young Award with them in 1994. The Yankees traded for him in 1995, and he missed most of the 1996 season with a shoulder injury. In his 1st game back, he pitched 7 innings of no-hit ball, but, worried about his recovery, manager Joe Torre took him out. The bullpen did not keep the no-hitter. Nevertheless, Cone helped the Yankees win the World Series in 1996 and 1998.

Now, in 1999, he was pitching as well as ever, coming into the game with a 9-4 record, sometimes seeming to make pitches up on the spot. And he toyed with the Expos. Despite having future Hall-of-Famer Vladimir Guerrero Sr., All-Stars José Vidro and Rondell White, and Vlad's brother Wilton Guerrero, who was a decent hitter, none of them could reach base. None of them could even get to a 3-ball count on him.

People began to realize what was happening. Cone was doing this with Don Larsen and his catcher, Yogi Berra, in the house. Wells had been put in the trade package for Roger Clemens before the season, so he wasn't there. But Larsen was.

The pressure on Cone to make history was palpable. Unlike Larsen, however, whose team only beat the Brooklyn Dodgers 2-0, the pressure to win the game wasn't. The Yankees gave him 5 runs in the bottom of the 2nd inning, including home runs by Ricky Ledée and Derek Jeter, and an RBI double by his catcher, Joe Girardi. By this point, Jorge Posada had replaced Girardi as the starting catcher, and had caught Wells' perfecto, but Cone preferred catching Girardi, who had also caught Dwight Gooden's no-hitter in 1996.

After 8 innings, the Yankees still had the 5-0 lead. But they got 3 straight hits to start off the bottom of the 8th: A double by Paul O'Neill, an RBI single by Bernie Williams, and a single by Tino Martinez. It was now 6-0, but the extra run seemed totally unnecessary. Suddenly, a big question arose: Would Cone still go out for the 9th inning? Pitchers don't like to wait long between innings, and it was very hot. But Chili Davis grounded into a double play, and Ledée grounded out. Torre sent Cone back out for the 9th.

The 1st batter was Chris Widger. Cone struck him out on 3 pitches. He hadn't stiffened up. The 2nd batter was Ryan McGuire, and he hit a sinking drive into left field. It looked like it would drop for a hit, and ruin the story. But Ledée came on and made a shoestring catch. Just as one of "the unwritten rules of baseball" is that you do not say the word "no-hitter" while one is in progress, for fear of jinxing it, another unwritten rule is that every no-hitter has at least one great defensive play, the kind that makes a fan say, "If he wasn't gonna lose it on that play, then he's gonna get it."

That left Orlando Cabrera, the Expo shortstop. In 2004, the Colombian would have a great moment on that field with the Boston Red Sox. But on this day, on a 1-1 count, Cone got him to pop up along the 3rd-base line. Scott Brosius got under it. He had a little trouble with the Sun. But he made the catch.

Cone had his 1st career no-hitter, and it was a perfect game. He dropped to his knees, and hugged Girardi, toppling him over. A crowd of 41,930 had braved the nasty heat, knowing that Yogi would be honored, but not knowing he would be honored like this, and gave Cone a standing ovation.

And the scoreboard operator put one of Yogi's familiar quotations on the board: "It's déjà vu all over again."

In all, Cone threw 88 pitches -- a pair of 8s, to match the 8s on each foul line, in honor of Yogi. Cliché Alert: You can't make this stuff up. For comparison's sake: In his perfect game on October 8, 1956, Larsen threw 97 pitches; in his, on May 17, 1998, Wells threw 120. For all 3, it was 27 men up, 27 men down.

There is a theory that Cone used himself up to pitch that perfecto. To that point, he was 10-4 on the season, but only went 2-5 the rest of the way. And 2000 was an awful season for him, as he went 4-14 with a 6.91 ERA. But he still helped the Yankees win the World Series both times. He pitched for the Boston Red Sox in 2001, retired, then came out of retirement to sign back with the Mets in 2003, and retired again.

Before the perfect game, he went 178-93. After it, he went 16-29. Overall, he was 194-126, with a 3.46 ERA, a 1.256 WHIP, and 2,668 career strikeouts. He went 8-3 in postseason play, including 2-0 with a 2.12 ERA in World Series play. He was named to 5 All-Star Games, and is one of the few players who remains popular with fans of both New York baseball teams: He was 81-51 as a Met, 64-40 as a Yankee, and 145-91 overall in New York. He is not yet in the Baseball Hall of Fame, but many pitchers who have achieved less are. Since 2004, he has been a broadcaster for the Yankees Entertainment & Sports (YES) Network.

On September 21, 2008, the last game was played at the old Yankee Stadium. One of the photos taken was on the mound, with the Stadium's 3 perfect game pitchers and their catchers: Larsen and Berra, Wells and Posada, Cone and Girardi (who was, at that point, the Yankees' manager). Berra died in 2015, Larsen in 2020.

On June 28, 2023, Domingo Germán pitched a perfect game for the Yankees, against the Tampa Bay Rays, at Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, Florida, as the Yankees won, 11-0. This time, the Yankees did not go on to win the World Series, or even to make the Playoffs, and Germán, who had a troubled tenure with the team, was waived after the season.

July 16, 1999: The Death of John F. Kennedy Jr.

July 16, 1999, 25 years ago: John F. Kennedy Jr., son of the 35th President of the United States, and, fairly or not, heir to so many Americans' dreams, dies in a plane crash of the coast of Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts. He was 38 years old. Lost along with him are his wife, Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, 36; and her sister, Lauren Bessette, 34.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy Jr. was born on November 25, 1960, in Washington, D.C., 17 days after his father was elected President. He and his sister, Caroline, 3 years older, became the first children to live in the White House since those of Theodore Roosevelt, over half a century earlier. Most Presidents are in their 50s or older, but JFK was 43, the youngest ever elected, and only TR ever took office younger; while his mother, formerly Jacqueline Bouvier, at 31, was the youngest First Lady since Frances Cleveland in the 1880s.

At one point, Jackie could be heard yelling at him, as a toddler, "John! John!" The media misunderstood this, and began calling him "John-John," a nickname that stuck with him for life, one he didn't like. As an adult, he always referred to himself as simply "John Kennedy," a common enough name without the middle initial that gave it away.

When interviewed by Oprah Winfrey in 1996, he said he didn't remember the picture of himself dancing with Caroline in the Oval Office while their father clapped along, or the picture of himself playing under the desk while his father worked, both taken mere days before JFK's assassination. He also said he didn't remember the salute he gave as his father's casket passed by during the funeral procession, on his 3rd birthday, November 25, 1963. "I remember he used to call me 'Sam,'" he said, "and I didn't like that. I said, 'My name's not Sam, it's John.' And he said, 'Okay, Sam.'"

In the one and only interview she gave after the assassination, to William Manchester a few days later, Jackie mentioned something a bit off-color: Once, JFK said good night to his son, and John said, "Good night, poo-poo-head!" and ran off. And JFK, laughing, said, "Come back here! You can't call the President of the United States a poo-poo-head!" If only he could have known what every President since him has been called, by people considerably older.

Jackie took John and Caroline back to New York. After marrying Greek shipping tycoon Aristotle Onassis, they divided their time between Jackie's apartment on 5th Avenue and Ari's private island, Skorpios. Jackie took them to the 1969 World Series at Shea Stadium.

He attended Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, which was attended by both Presidents George Bush -- but not his father, who had gone to Choate Rosemary Hall in Wallingford, Connecticut. Unlike his father, his grandfather and his 3 uncles, all Harvard men, he attended Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, which would later be attended by his uncle Ted's son, Patrick. In 1988, he gave a speech at the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta, and it was well-received enough that people began to believe a political career was in his future.

He then attended New York University School of Law, but needed 3 tries to pass the New York State bar exam. He became a prosecutor in the Manhattan District Attorney's Office, lived in the Tribeca neighborhood, and rode a bicycle to work, even though the family fortune meant that he could have afforded a limousine.

Like his mother and his sister, he guarded his privacy intensely, and it was difficult to confirm stories about who America's most eligible bachelor was dating. Apparently, like his father and grandfather before him, he had a thing for actresses, including dating Brooke Shields, Sarah Jessica Parker, and, for 4 years, Daryl Hannah.

On September 21, 1996, a few weeks after founding George, a political magazine named after George Washington and aimed at younger readers, he married Carolyn Bessette, who worked in New York's fashion industry. This took many people by surprise: Not only was she not famous in her own right, but the general public didn't even know they were dating.

It was still believed that he would run for political office, as a stepping-stone to becoming President like his father. With the defeat of Governor Mario Cuomo -- whose son Andrew would one day be Governor, and had married Kerry Kennedy, daughter of John's uncle Robert F. Kennedy -- by Republican George Pataki in 1994, it was speculated that John would oppose Pataki in 1998. He chose not to.

When Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, a Democrat who had been a sub-Cabinet official under his father, announced his retirement rather than run in the 2000 election, the wide guess was that John would run for Moynihan's seat. He never publicly denied it, but there was no indication that he was making preparations to run for the seat, which ended up being won by First Lady Hillary Clinton.

But the spectre of tragedy has long hung over the Kennedy family. In addition to his father's assassination in 1963, his uncle Robert was assassinated while running for President in 1968. His uncle Ted (Edward M. Kennedy) was involved in a fatal car crash the following year. Joseph P. Kennedy Jr., the eldest brother of Jack, Bobby and Ted, was killed in service in World War II in 1944. One of their sisters, Kathleen, was killed in a plane crash in 1948. Another, Rosemary was left hopelessly disabled in 1940, in a surgical attempt to cure the apparent disability she already had.

Several of Bobby's kids had gotten involved in drugs, and it killed Bobby's son David in 1984. And Bobby's son Michael had been killed in a skiing accident in 1997. At the time, John was taking flying lessons, and he remembered that his mother, who died of cancer in 1994, was worried that he might die in a plane crash. He resumed his lessons, anyway.

On July 15, 1999, I attended the New York Yankees' game against the Atlanta Braves at the old Yankee Stadium, a 6-2 defeat. Unbeknownst to me until after the weekend, when the media showed footage of it on TV, John and Carolyn Kennedy had also attended the game. Despite the family's Boston roots making most of them Boston Red Sox fans, and the Shriver wing of the family coming from Baltimore and being Baltimore Orioles fans, JFK Jr. was, apparently, a Yankee fan.

The following day, John, Carolyn, and Carolyn's sister Lauren, who worked for brokerage firm Morgan Stanley Dean Witter, left New York for Essex County Airport in Fairfield, New Jersey. They were headed for the family home, known as the Kennedy Compound, in Hyannis Port, on Massachusetts' Cape Cod, for the wedding of Bobby's last child, Rory Kennedy, born 6 months after her father's assassination, to Mark Bailey. They had met through their work, as both are documentary filmmakers.

Traffic out of Manhattan, understandable due to it being evening rush hour on a Friday, was bad, and it wasn't until 8:38 PM that John was able to take off in the Piper Saratoga that he had bought 3 months earlier. The plan was to land at Martha's Vineyard Airport, on the island off the coast of Massachusetts, not far from another island, Nantucket; drop Lauren off there; and then take off again with Carolyn for Barnstable Airport on the mainland.

It was later determined that the plane hit the Atlantic Ocean at 9:41 PM, and that the most likely cause was spatial disorientation: As an under-experienced pilot, John may have been lower in the air than he realized.

At 2:15 AM on July 17, the Kennedy family notified Coast Guard Air Station Cape Cod that the plane had not arrived. I woke up Saturday morning to the news that the plane was missing. Knowing of the "Kennedy Curse," I was convinced he and whoever was with him on the plane were dead.

It was a weird, and very hot, weekend, which also included the perfect game pitched by David Cone of the Yankees: The plane and the bodies hadn't been found, so we didn't have confirmation that they were dead, so a small hope still lingered. The tent set up for the wedding became the focal point of the family's vigil.

But fragments of the plane were found on the 19th. Late at night on the 20th, the fuselage was found. On the afternoon of the 21st, the bodies were found, all still strapped into their seats. Autopsies proved that they died on impact. All 3 were cremated, and their ashes scattered at sea.

Even more than for his father, who had accomplished many things as President, the question of "What might have been" hangs over the memory of John F. Kennedy Jr. At the John F. Kennedy Museum in Hyannis Port, there is a statue of both of them as grown men, arms around each other. A copy is in Rapid City, South Dakota, along with statues of all the other Presidents at a public park.

The Kennedy-Bailey wedding was postponed to August 2. Rory and Mark have 2 daughters and a son. George magazine printed a memorial issue for John, and folded in 2001.

The psychotic QAnon movement believes that John will return from the dead and tell people to support Donald Trump, and save America from sin. I guess they forgot, or are too insane to consider, than John was a Democrat, and, like the rest of the Kennedy family, would oppose Trump. Indeed, given the legal pursuit of Trump, it's entirely possible that John Kennedy Jr., rather than Alvin Bragg, might be leading one of the prosecution teams against Trump.

In 2024, it is his cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is running for President as a 3rd-party candidate.

July 13, 1999: Old Ted Williams at the All-Star Game

In 1999, The Sporting News listed its 100 Greatest Baseball Players. Ted Williams, often called "the greatest hitter who ever lived," with a .344 lifetime batting average and 521 home runs, was ranked 8th, the highest-ranking left fielder.

For the sake of perspective, here are the 7 players ranked ahead of him: Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, Ty Cobb, Walter Johnson, Hank Aaron, Lou Gehrig and Christy Mathewson. That's 4 of the 1st 5 guys elected to the Hall (Ruth, Cobb, Johnson and Mathewson, but not Honus Wagner), a .340 lifetime hitter (Gehrig), and the guys who used to be the top 3 home run hitters ever (Aaron, Ruth and Mays). Although it probably pleased him that only 2 of the guys ahead of him were pitchers.

That year, Ted was named a finalist for the Major League Baseball All-Century Team, to be chosen in All-Star-style balloting by the fans.

July 13, 1999, 25 years ago: Many of the finalists for the MLB All-Century Team were introduced before the 1999 All-Star Game, which was held at Fenway Park in Boston, where Ted Williams had played his home games from 1939 to 1960. After the other finalists were introduced, Ted, 77 years old and weakened by a stroke, was driven onto the field in a golf cart, and tipped his cap to the fans, something he had always refused to do while he was playing.

When the cart stopped, all the greats, current and former, crowded around him, like he was the Pope about to offer blessings. A path had to be cleared for them so he could be eased to a spot in front of the pitcher's mound, where he would throw out the ceremonial first ball to another finalist, former Red Sox catcher Carlton Fisk. The man then thought of as the best pure hitter in the game, Tony Gwynn, helped steady him so he could properly throw. Gwynn played for the major league edition of the San Diego Padres, in Ted's hometown. Ted had played for the old, minor-league version of the Padres.

When Ted finished his throw, he was led back to the cart, and the players were still crowding around him. It might have been the first time people had come to a baseball game, and were hoping it wouldn't be played, that the pregame could go on forever.

Oh yes, the game: The American League won, 4-1.

The fans voted, and, naturally, Ted was elected to the final All-Century Team. Every player elected to it and still living showed up at Turner Field in Atlanta, to be introduced before Game 2 of the World Series between the Braves and the Yankees. Ted tipped his cap again, and Atlanta fans, who never got to see him play (never mind Interleague play, the Braves didn't move to Atlanta until he was already elected to the Hall of Fame), gave him a standing ovation.

It was his last time in a major league ballpark. He'd had a stroke, and his famous vision had already gotten so bad, he couldn't see Fisk from the mound during the Fenway pregame, and was heard to ask, "Where is he?" And he was nearly wheelchair-bound. He had another stroke, and was practically immobile after that. He died on July 5, 2002, at age 83, at Citrus Memorial Hospital in Inverness, Florida.

June 25, 1999: San Antonio's 1st Title

June 25, 1999, 25 years ago: The San Antonio Spurs win their 1st league championship, after 3 years in the ABA and 23 years in the NBA. They defeat the New York Knicks, 78-77 at Madison Square Garden, to win Game 5 and the NBA Championship.

For the only major sports team in a city now with over 1.14 million people, this is a huge moment. It begins a stretch where, in 16 seasons, coach Gregg Popovich and forward Tim Duncan will lead them into 6 NBA Finals, winning 5 of them, the 1st 2 with center David Robinson.

For the Knicks, it is their 8th trip to the NBA Finals, and it remains their last. They managed to get there despite an injury to their star player, center Patrick Ewing. Forward Larry Johnson put the team on his back, and was 3 wins away from becoming a New York sports legend.

Coach Jeff Van Gundy -- short, bald, scrawny, looking nothing like a basketball player -- had built a team that played scrappy ball. Bill Gallo, sports cartoonist for the New York Daily News, drew him as a boxer, calling him "Rocky Van Gutsy."

But "Coach Pop" had as much guts, more brains, and more talent, and there was little the Knicks could do. In 1997, the Knicks had been bought by Cablevision, and James Dolan has run them ever since. And competitiveness has been a rarity.

Founded in 1967, in the American Basketball Association, as the Dallas Chaparrals, the team moved in 1973, becoming the San Antonio Spurs. They were 1 of the 4 ABA teams invited to join the NBA in 1976. By 1978, they had won a Division title, followed by trips to the Western Conference Finals in 1979, '82 and '83.

After a few down years, the arrival of coach Larry Brown in 1988 and Robinson in 1989 made them a Playoff team again. They got back to the Conference Finals in 1995, Popovich's 1st year as general manager. In 1996, after a bad start, he named himself head coach, and the arrival of Duncan the following season made them a title team in just 2 more seasons.

The Spurs would win the title again in 2003, Robinson's last year; 2005, 2007 and 2014, losing in the Finals in 2013, as Duncan straddled the NBA's Shaquille O'Neal era and the first half of the LeBron James era, as it was LeBron's Heat that beat the Spurs in the 2013 Finals, before the Spurs turned the tables in 2014.

By 2022, the population of San Antonio was believed to be 1.47 million people, and its metropolitan area 2.6 million. Yet the Spurs remain its only major league team: They lost the WNBA's Silver Stars after the 2017 season; the Missions are in baseball's Class AA Texas League; despite several minor professional football teams, including the Gunslingers of the 1980s USFL and the Brahmas of the current UFL, they've only hosted 3 NFL regular-season games, all as an emergency home for the 2005 New Orleans Saints after Hurricane Katrina; San Antonio F.C. are in the USL Championship, the 2nd tier of American soccer; and they have no pro hockey team at all.

April 20, 1999: The Columbine Massacre

April 20, 1999, 25 years ago: A mass shooting kills 12 students and a teacher at Columbine High School, in the Denver suburb of Littleton, Colorado. At the time, it was the deadliest mass shooting at an American school. Another 21 were wounded, but survived.

What made it more chilling is that it was done by 2 of the school's own students, both seniors within weeks of graduation: Eric Harris, who had just turned 18 and had recently moved there after many places as the child of a U.S. Air Force officer; and Dylan Klebold, still 17 and a lifelong resident of the community.

Both worked at a nearby pizza parlor. According to Harris' journal, he had planned to exceed the death toll of the Oklahoma City bombing, 4 years plus 1 day earlier: 168.

President Bill Clinton, being a Democrat, had managed, through legislation while Congress was controlled by Democrats, to greatly reduce gun crime in America. Now, he wanted to do more. The Congress of that time, being controlled by Republicans, did nothing. No new legislation regarding gun control was put on the Presidential desk.

The school, and the unincorporated community in which it stands, were named for the State Flower of Colorado. The school opened in 1973, and, with retroactive irony, its mascot is the Rebels, with a logo reminiscent of the Continental Army in the War of the American Revolution. If Harris and Klebold only had the kind of weapons available then, the death toll would have been much lower.

Among Columbine's graduates is Darrel Akerfelds, who pitched for 4 different major league teams from 1986 to 1991. He also died too soon, at 50, in 2012, from cancer.

A memorial to the victims opened at the school near the start of the 2007-08 schoolyear. Today, the school has an enrollment of about 1,700.

Only 1 game was canceled in any sport: The Colorado Rockies, the team closest to the crime, canceled their games that night and the next one, at Coors Field against the Montreal Expos.

*

On a separate note, although this is about a game that I do not consider a sport: On this day, for his comic strip B.C., Johnny Hart drew this strip, showing that he loves golf, but is frustrated by it:

In case you're having trouble reading it:

Panel 1: Woman asks male golfer, "Let me get this straight, the less I hit the ball, the better I am doing." Golfer says, "That's right."

Panel 2: Woman asks golfer, "Then why do it at all?"

Panel 3, at night, so, clearly, golfer has been thinking about it the whole time: "Why... do it... at all?"

April 17, 1999: The Strangest NFL Draft

April 17, 1999, 25 years ago: The NFL Draft is held in New York, at The Theater at Madison Square Garden -- formerly known as the Felt Forum, and now as the Hulu Theater.

The Draft has had some sour moments. New York Jets fans, especially when the Draft is held in New York, tend to go, and their reactions to their team's 1st round pick is usually vociferous. Like the nursery rhyme about the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead, when it's good, it's very, very good; but when it's bad, it's horrid.

But Jet fans have nothing on fans of the Philadelphia Eagles. As NFL Films co-founder, producer and writer Steve Sabol (a Philadelphia area native) put it, to be read by John Facenda, the local news anchor who was the voice of NFL Films from 1967 until his death in 1984, put it, "In Philadelphia, a fan learns to boo before he can walk."

In 1998, the Heisman Trophy was won by Ricky Williams of the University of Texas, who had broken the NCAA's career record for rushing yardage. That record lasted for just 1 year, broken by Ron Dayne of Wisconsin, who would play for the New York Giants.

Williams seemed to push all the right buttons. He was big. He was strong. He was very fast. He was from one of college football's marquee schools. He had excelled in one of college football's toughest leagues, the Big 12 Conference. He had come through in high-profile games. He seemed nice. He seemed smart. He was respectful of the game's history: When Doak Walker, often regarded as the greatest Texas-born player, was dying, Ricky visited him in the hospital, and, for one game, switched from his usual Number 34 to Walker's legendary 37. And, at the time, there were no red flags.

He should have been the top pick in the NFL Draft. Except that 1999 was the year the restored Cleveland Browns were beginning play, and they had the top pick. They made it known that they would be picking a quarterback. That turned out to be Tim Couch of the University of Kentucky. He turned out to be a bust, partly because he wasn't that good, partly because the Browns handled him badly. But that's a story for another time.

The 2nd pick belonged to the Eagles, 3-13 the season before. Their quarterbacks were Rodney Peete (decent but injury-prone), Bobby Hoying (a reasonable backup, but shouldn't have been a starter) and Koy Detmer (not even the best quarterback in his own family, and his brother Ty wasn't so hot as a pro, either).

Drafting a seemingly good quarterback is not a cure-all, especially for his rookie year. In the previous year's Draft, the Indianapolis Colts had the 1st pick, the San Diego Chargers the 2nd. The top 2 picks were going to be Peyton Manning of Tennessee and Ryan Leaf of Washington State, and pretty much everybody was thinking that you couldn't go wrong with either one. The Colts picked Manning, and he had a rough rookie year, but became a Hall-of-Famer. The Chargers picked Leaf, and it was a disaster even beyond his rookie year.

But the Eagles also needed to boost their running game. Their 2 best running backs were Duce Staley (good, but not great) and Charlie Garner (occasionally good, at best). Furthermore, given that they were 3-13, the Eagles could have gone with the cliché of drafting "the best available athlete." At the time, it wasn't hard to believe that this was Ricky Williams.

Angelo Cataldi, then as now the morning show host for all-sports radio station WIP (then 610 AM, now 94.1 FM), knowing that the Browns were likely drafting Couch, promoted the idea of the Eagles drafting Williams. He arranged for a group of Eagles fans to attend the Draft at The Garden. Some of them even wore Eagle jerseys with Williams' name and Number 34 on them, presumably paid for out of their own pockets, not out of WIP's bank account. (UPDATE: Cataldi retired in 2023.)

At the Draft, NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue announced, "With the 2nd pick, the Philadelphia Eagles select... Donovan McNabb... " The rest of his words could not be heard, as the Eagle fans in attendance overwhelmed it with boos.

They had been betrayed by team management, and not for the 1st time. Or so they believed. And they booed their lungs out. Why?

Well, from previous bad drafts and bad free agent signings, to the financial difficulties of former owner Leonard Tose and the cheapness of former owner Norman Braman, Eagle fans were used to the organization not doing right by them. New owner Jeffrey Lurie had promised better. So far, he hadn't delivered. Drafting McNabb instead of Williams seemed like another crack in the promise.

The team that can run the ball the best controls the clock. The team that controls the clock usually wins the game. And, as former Eagle cornerback Herman Edwards, then an assistant coach with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, would later say as head coach of the New York Jets, "You play to win the game!"

And, as I said, the Eagles needed to boost their running game, possibly more than they needed a good quarterback. This was largely due to the fact that, from 1995 to 1997, they had put their faith in a different Ricky W: Ricky Watters had helped the San Francisco 49ers win a Super Bowl, and the Eagles signed him as a free agent, but he didn't work out for them, appearing to take a nonchalant attitude, which is anathema to Philadelphia fans. And, as I also said, Williams seemed like "the best available athlete."

McNabb came out of Syracuse University. In 1997, he got them to 9-4. Their wins included these over opponents that were then nationally ranked in the Top 25: The Kickoff Classic at the Meadowlands against Number 24 Wisconsin, and home to Number 17 West Virginia. But he also lost at home to North Carolina State, and away to Oklahoma and Number 22 Virginia Tech.

In 1998, he got them to 8-4. They won away to Number 13 Michigan, and home to Number 16 Virginia Tech (with Michael Vick as a senior). However, they again lost to North Carolina State and West Virginia, this time away in both cases; and lost at home to Number 10 Tennessee.

In both seasons, he led the Orangemen to the Championship of the Big East Conference. But the Big East was never seen as an elite football league. In basketball, yes; in football, no. In both seasons, he got them to a major bowl game: The 1997 Fiesta Bowl against Number 10 Kansas State (actually played on New Year's Eve that season) and the 1999 Orange Bowl against Number 7 Florida (played on New Year's Day). However, they lost both games. In both seasons, he got them to a Top 25 ranking: 20th in 1997 and 24th in 1998.

In other words, he looked like a good college quarterback. And there were other choices, aside from the already-drafted Couch. With the 3rd pick, the Cincinnati Bengals drafted Akili Smith, who had led Oregon to an 8-4 season. With the 11th pick, the Minnesota Vikings drafted Dante Culpeper, who had led Central Florida to 9-2. With the 12th pick, the Chicago Bears drafted Cade McNown, who had led UCLA to 10-2, the Pac-10 title, and victory in the Rose Bowl. In the 2nd round, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers drafted Shaun King, who had led Tulane to an undefeated 12-0 season and the Number 7 ranking in the country (albeit against, at best, what college basketball fans would call a mid-major schedule).

In other words, McNabb had a good college football career, but was he clearly the best quarterback in that Draft? The best, maybe. Clearly the best, no.

And, as I said, Williams seemed to have all the prerequisites: Good guy, great player, filled a need for the Eagles. And he was available. But they didn't take him. And their fans booed.

They shouldn't have. The Eagles needed a quarterback. When the Detroit Lions chose Rodney Peete in the 6th round out of USC in 1989, there was nothing wrong with wanting a healthy eete on your team. But he got hurt in his 1st preseason, and this began a string of injuries. By the time the Eagles got him in 1995, having a healthy Peete was pretty much a lost cause. And, as I said, neither Bobby Hoying nor Koy Detmer was going to be the answer.

The best college running backs often turn out to be pro busts -- figuratively or, through injury, literally. Eagles fans found that out when they won 2 games late in the 1968 season, costing them the chance to draft the eventually felonious O.J. Simpson, and instead got Leroy Keyes, who fell well short of expectations.

The Eagles had won their last NFL Championship in 1960. Just between then and 1998, and just among Heisman Trophy winners: Ernie Davis never played a pro down due to a fatal illness, Steve Owens lasted just 5 seasons and rushed for less than 2,500 yards, John Cappelletti lasted 10 years and rushed for less than 3,000, Archie Griffin lasted 7 years and rushed for less than 3,000, Charles White lasted 9 years and rushed for just over 3,000, and Rashaan Salaam lasted 4 years and rushed for less than 1,800. Since then, the aforementioned Ron Dayne lasted for 8 years and rushed for less than 4,000.

In addition to those, Billy Sims and Bo Jackson, both Heisman winners, looked like they were headed for the Hall of Fame. But Sims wrecked his knee in his 5th season, and Jackson hurt his hip in his 4th, and neither ever played again. Ki-Jana Carter was the 1st pick in the 1995 NFL Draft, but wrecked his knee in a preseason game in his rookie year. played in just 59 games over a span of 10 seasons, and rushed for just 1,144 yards.

So drafting a running back in the 1st round, even a great college running back like Ricky Williams, wasn't necessarily a great idea.

And what about other teams? They made this Draft even stranger. The Browns didn't draft Williams, either. Once they drafted Couch, and the Eagles drafted McNabb, the Bengals could have drafted Williams. Here's where it gets really strange: The New Orleans Saints offered the Bengals 9 draft picks for their pick, so they could draft Williams. Nine of them. The Bengals turned them down, and drafted Akili Smith.

The 4th pick belonged to the Indianapolis Colts. The Saints tried to make a deal with them, too, but they wouldn't budge. But they also didn't pick Williams. They drafted a different running back, Edgerrin James of the University of Miami. And while Couch and Smith were both busts, James was not: He went to the Hall of Fame.

Finally, the Saints got the Washington Redskins to agree to a deal: The 5th pick in that Draft, in exchange for the Saints' entire 1999 Draft except for the 2nd round, and their 1st and 3rd round picks for 2000. The Saints drafted Williams. The Redskins did some more maneuvering, and packaged 3 of the picks they got from the Saints to send to the Bears for a pick they ended up using on University of Georgia cornerback Champ Bailey, who made the Hall of Fame.

Incidentally, the Saints' general manager at the time was Bill Kuharich, son of Joe Kuharich, who, as Eagles head coach and general manager in 1964, made what is generally regarded as the worst trade in Eagles history: Sending Sonny Jurgensen to the Washington Redskins for Norm Snead.

Jurgensen was a carouser, and the moralistic Joe Kuharich hated that. Snead was a straight arrow. With the Redskins, Jurgensen continued his Hall of Fame career, throwing the most touchdown passes of any quarterback in the 1960s. The quarterback with the most interceptions in that decade? You may have guessed: Snead.

Anyway, what all this means is that 5 teams passed on drafting Ricky Williams: First the Browns, then the Eagles, then the Bengals, then the Colts, and lastly the Redskins. As we will soon see, the Browns and Bengals might have been better off if they'd taken him. Between what we will soon see, and what we have already seen, the Eagles and Colts might not have been.

Bears legend Mike Ditka was the Saints' head coach at the time, and they went just 3-13 in 1999. Williams rushed for 884 yards. Ditka was fired, and replaced with Jim Haslett. It was a huge improvement, as they went 10-6, and, each for the 1st time in franchise history, won their Division (the NFC West) and won a Playoff game. Williams rushed for 1,000 yards even, despite missing half the season due to injury. And then they slid back down to 7-9 in 2001, despite Williams rushing for 1,245 yards. He was getting personal success, but not much team success.

He didn't fit in. His Saints teammate Joe Horn said, "Ricky's just a different guy. People he wanted to deal with, he did. And people he wanted to have nothing to do with, he didn't. No one could understand that. I don't think guys in the locker room could grasp that he wanted to be himself. You know, quiet."

He was traded to the Miami Dolphins for 4 draft picks, and 2002 turned out to be his best NFL season. He rushed for a League-leading 1,853 yards. He rushed for another 1,372 yards in 2003. In those seasons, they went 9-7 and 10-6, but didn't make the Playoffs either time. Still, it looked like the Saints had blown it, both in getting him and in getting rid of him.

And then, in the run-up to the 2004 season, he was suspended for testing positive for marijuana. On August 2, he announced his retirement.

It's become a meme in the years since: ESPN's Stephen A. Smith telling NFL players to "Stay off the weed!" Or, as he pronounces it, "the weeeeeeee-duh!" Physically speaking, Ricky Williams was as gifted as any running back in NFL history. Emotionally speaking, he was at the other extreme, eventually being diagnosed with clinical depression and social anxiety disorder. He chose smoking pot over playing football.

The Dolphins seemed to prove his point, that they needed him more than he needed them, going 4-12 in 2004. Williams patched things up with them, served his mandatory 4-game drug-test suspension, and rushed for 743 yards in 12 games. The Dolphins went 9-7 in 2005, and just missed the Playoffs again. And then, in early 2006, Williams was suspended for the entire upcoming season, for violating the NFL's drug policy for a 2nd time.

The Canadian Football League had a less stringent drug policy, and Williams signed with the Toronto Argonauts. But his season with the Argos was stricken with injuries: A broken bone in his arm and a damaged Achilles tendon limited him to 11 games and 526 yards. The CFL instituted what's become known as "The Ricky Williams Rule": No longer would a player under suspension by the NFL be eligible to be signed by a CFL team, although a "grandfather clause" meant that Williams himself could stay.

He didn't: After claiming that yoga had helped him to stop using marijuana, he entered into negotiations with Commissioner Tagliabue, and was granted reinstatement. He returned on November 26, 2007, playing for the Dolphins against the Pittsburgh Steelers on Monday Night Football. But it would be the only game he played that season, as he suffered a shoulder injury.

He played all 16 games of the 2008 season, rushing for 659 yards, and helping the Dolphins win the AFC East. He played all 16 games of the 2009 season, rushing for 1,121 yards, making him only the 7th player in NFL history to rush for at least 1,000 at age 32 or later, but the Dolphins only went 7-9. In 2010, he rushed for 673 yards, and the Dolphins went 10-6, but missed the Playoffs.

His contract with the Dolphins had run out, and he signed with the Baltimore Ravens for 2011. He played in every game, rushed for 444 yards, and on January 1, 2012, he joined the 10,000 Yards Club. The Ravens went 12-4, won the AFC North, and advanced to the AFC Championship Game.

But, a month later, Williams announced his retirement, for good this time. He was not quite 35, with 10,009 rushing yards, 342 receptions for 2,606 yards, and 74 touchdowns.

He has since become a certified yoga instructor, and an advocate for medical marijuana. Apparently, the former hasn't actually turned him off from the latter; but, together, they have helped him deal with his mental health difficulties.

He is in the College Football Hall of Fame, but not the Pro Football Hall of Fame, for which he has been eligible since 2017. There are 31 players with at least 10,000 rushing yards. The only ones eligible but not yet in are Fred Taylor, Steven Jackson, Corey Dillon, Warrick Dunn, Ricky Watters, Jamal Lewis, Thomas Jones, Tiki Barber, Eddie George, Ottis Anderson... and Ricky Williams.

Two of those players, Williams and Lewis, have had drug issues. The rest haven't. Based on statistics, it appears that 12,000 yards -- or, more precisely, 12,074 -- is the actual threshold: Every player with at least that many is in, except for the not-yet-eligible Gore and Peterson. So maybe it's not the drug issue that's holding Williams back, since there are never-suspended players with more rushing yards who aren't in Canton.

Nevertheless, Williams was a headache for 2 different NFL franchises, New Orleans and Miami. Neither team has elected him to their team hall of fame. If you ask the average Dolphin fan to name his all-time team, his running backs are going to be those on the 1972-73 Super Bowl teams, Larry Csonka and either Jim Kiick or Mercury Morris. (A little ironic, since Morris had to overcome a more severe drug problem than Williams, and did.)

Even in the 22 years since Williams arrived in the NFL, or in the 17 years since he was first suspended, America's understanding of mental health issues has improved. It is entirely possible that the same issues would have reared their heads had he been drafted by the Eagles instead of the Saints.

And that would have been very bad for his mental health. Can you imagine Eagle fans reacting to Ricky Williams' drug and psych issues? They would have tried to destroy him. And, away from the more laid-back atmospheres in Louisiana and South Florida, it would have been much worse for him. Instead of accepting him, Eagle fans would have compounded the problem.

Now, imagine that the Eagles drafted the top quarterback available the next year. Because they still would have needed one. Who would that have been? There were 12 quarterbacks drafted. The 1st was Chad Pennington, who had a decent career with Miami and the Jets. Of the 11 after him, the best was... Tom Brady, taken in the 6th round by the New England Patriots. And we'll never know for sure if he would have won even one single solitary NFL game without being the perpetrator, or at least the beneficiary, of cheating.

And, given how close the Eagles were to winning the Super Bowl with McNabb but without Williams, would they have been any better the other way around? With Pennington as quarterback and Williams in the backfield? It's unlikely.

Because the quarterback they did draft turned out to be pretty good. Suppose you rooted for a struggling NFL team. And suppose I told you that they were going to draft a quarterback who gave his college back-to-back seasons of a Conference Championship and a bid to a New Year's Day bowl game. And that he would lead your team to the Playoffs in only his 2nd season, and that this would be the 1st of 8 trips to the Playoffs -- without any guarantee as to how any of those berths would turn out. Would you like your chances? Would you take this? I think most fans would.

Certainly, McNabb's pro career could have been better. He was 10-8 in Playoff games, 1-4 in NFC Championship Games including 2 losses at home, and 0-1 in Super Bowls. And, so far, voters for the Pro Football Hall of Fame have not seen fit to elect him.

But Donovan McNabb turned out to be, if not the greatest, then the most statistically successful quarterback in Eagles history. He joined Fran Tarkenton, John Elway and Steve Young as only the 4th quarterback in NFL history to have 30,000 passing yards, 200 touchdown passes, 3,000 rushing yards and 20 touchdown runs. He made 6 Pro Bowls. He won 5 NFC East titles.

In 2004, he set a record (since broken) with 24 consecutive pass attempts completed. That same year, he became the 1st quarterback ever to finish a season with at least 30 touchdown passes and fewer than 10 interceptions.

As I said, he went 10-8 in Playoff games with the Eagles. But look at it another way: In 11 seasons with Donovan McNabb as their starting quarterback, the Eagles won 10 postseason games; in 78 seasons with all other starting quarterbacks (1933 to 1998, and 2010 to 2021), they have won just 13. In fact, until Nick Foles came along, it was 9 postseason wins in 73 years without McNabb.

The Eagles reached 5 NFC Championship Games with him. They only reached 1 Super Bowl, and lost it -- but that was to the Patriots, so how do we know it was on the up-and-up? We don't. With the Pats, we presume they're guilty until they're proven innocent.

You can say that other Eagles quarterbacks -- Norm Van Brocklin, Sonny Jurgensen, Ron Jaworski, Randall Cunningham, Nick Foles and Carson Wentz -- were better than Donovan McNabb. Certainly, some of those were more talented. But results matter. Van Brocklin was only in Philadelphia for 3 seasons; Foles, 2. Long-term, McNabb is the Eagles' best quarterback ever.

So the people booing his selection at the 1999 NFL Draft owe him an apology. Yes, Ricky Williams looked like the better pick at the time. But he wasn't. McNabb was. 

March 13, 1999: Lewis-Holyfield I, a Heavyweight Debacle

March 13, 1999, 25 years ago: Lennox Lewis, recognized as the Heavyweight Champion of the World by the World Boxing Commission (WBC), fights Evander Holyfield, recognized by the World Boxing Association (WBA) and the International Boxing Federation (IBF).

It turns out to be a disaster. As a result, it turns out to be, so far, the last major prizefight at Madison Square Garden, "The Mecca of Boxing."

Evander Holyfield had won the heavyweight title, as recognized by the World Boxing Association (WBA), the World Boxing Council (WBC), and the International Boxing Federation (IBF), by beating James "Buster" Douglas in 1990.

However, despite all 3 major organizations recognizing him as such, he was not the "undisputed" champion: People wanted to see him fight Mike Tyson, seeing Douglas' win over Tyson 8 months earlier as a fluke. They still thought of Tyson as "the real champion."

But Tyson had gone to prison for rape. In the meantime, Holyfield had lost the titles to Riddick Bowe, regained the WBA and IBF titles (but not the WBC title) from Bowe, then lost them to Michael Moorer -- who then lost them to 45-year-old former Champion George Foreman.

One thing led to another, and the titles were split again. Tyson got out of prison, and got the WBA title back. But Holyfield beat him twice, and was, again WBA Champion. Moorer regained the IBF title, and Holyfield beat him to regain it.

Lennox Lewis was born in London, and spent his teenage years in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. In 1993, he was awarded the WBC title because Bowe had refused to fight him. He lost the title to Oliver McCall. The title was vacated again, and in 1997, Lewis and McCall fought for it, and Lewis won it.

Both men were older than most Heavyweight Champions: Lewis was 33, Holyfield 36. Lewis went into the fight 34-1; Holyfield, 36-3.

The referee was Arthur Mercante Jr. His father, Arthur Mercante Sr., had officiated the 1st Muhammad Ali vs. Joe Frazier fight at The Garden, also a unification bout, in 1971. He had also officiated in 1973, when George Foreman took the title from Frazier; and in 1960, when Floyd Patterson took the title back from Ingemar Johansson. Arthur Sr. was still alive, and in attendance.

It was generally agreed that Lewis dominated early, with Holyfield winning only Round 3 out of the 1st 5. Holyfield won Round 6, Lewis Round 7. Holyfield then took control, winning Rounds 8, 9, 10 and 11. But Lewis dominated the 12th and final round.

The television commentators expected Lewis to be named the winner by the judges. What followed stunned everybody. Stanley Christodoulou had Lewis a 116-113 winner on his card. But Eugenia Williams scored it 115-113 for Holyfield. And Larry O'Connell had it at 115-115, a flat-out draw.

By all rights, the points should have been totaled up, which would have made it 344-343, the slimmest of margins, for Lewis. But, under the rules, it was a "split draw," and each fighter kept his respective belts.

The Garden crowd booed. On HBO, Jim Lampley called it "a travesty," and Foreman called it "a shame." Boxing historian Steve Farhood, who had edited the magazines The Ring and KO, said, "I've been covering boxing 20 years. I would put this in the top 5 for the worst decisions I've seen." Roy Jones Jr., then the undisputed Light Heavyweight Champion, called it, "the type of thing that makes him not want to stay in boxing." Rudy Giuliani, then the Mayor of New York, was in attendance, and he agreed with Lampley's assessment, calling it "a shame."

A rematch was inevitable. On November 13, Lewis-Holyfield II was held at the Thomas & Mack Center outside Las Vegas. This time, there was no controversy: It went the full 12 rounds, but Lewis won a unanimous decision, becoming the undisputed Heavyweight Champion.

Lewis remained Champion until 2001, getting knocked out by Hasim Rahman. He took the title back by knocking Rahman out 7 months later, humiliated Tyson with an 8th-round knockout in Memphis in 2002, and knocked Vitali Klitschko out in the 6th round in Los Angeles on June 21, 2003. That was his final fight, and he retired as Champion, with a record of 41-2-1. He remains the last undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the World