There was one moment near the end of the great Keith Hernandez celebration last weekend that hit me more than anything else — and all but certainly hit anyone of my generation, which is to say, those who came to love and embrace New York baseball in the 1980s.
That moment was when Don Mattingly embraced Hernandez.
And in an instant, we were transported. In an instant it was 1984, or 1986, or any of the 6 ½ years, from 1983-89, when Mattingly and Hernandez shared the city, playing the same position and playing it with such an astonishing level of grace.
In an instant, we were no longer living in a world with 800 television channels, just seven of them — Channels 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11 and 13. And in that world, on an endless string of summer nights, we would wear out the remote control — or, if we were really old-school, the channel-changer — and do what we would later know as “toggling.”
Back and forth we would go between Channels 9 and 11, not wanting to miss either of their at-bats — but not wanting to miss anything spectacular they might do in the field, either.
Many of us had grown up with our fathers and our uncles recalling the remarkable days of the early 1950s, when the arguments would last long into the New York night about whom the best center fielder was. Terry Cashman was so moved by that era he wrote a song about them that still yields goose bumps more than 40 years after he put pen to paper:
They knew ’em all from Boston to Dubuque
Especially Willie … Mickey and the Duke
Our fathers and our uncles backed Mays, Mantle and Snider depending either on borough of birth or general baseball proclivity, and they were absolutely certain that they were right. My memory of the 1980s and those two first basemen is a little different: Even Mets fans liked Mattingly. And even Yankees fans liked Hernandez.
They might part ways on then building a case for who was better, but they were both so good it was simply a joy to watch them.
Of course, the big difference between the center-field arguments of 1955 and the first-base arguments of 1985 was this: No matter which horse you picked among Mays, Mantle and Snider, you were backing a Hall of Famer. Mays (94.7 percent of the vote in 1978) and Mantle (88.2 percent in 1974) cruised in; Snider actually had to wait 11 years before the BBWAA finally gave him 86.5 percent of the vote in 1980.
Neither Hernandez not Mattingly ever came especially close to being elected. The closest Mattingly ever came was the 28.2 percent he received in 2001, his first year in the ballot. By his 15th and final year, he got just 9.1 percent. And Hernandez’s showing on the ballot was even more mystifying — or disgraceful, given your point of view. He never received more than 10.8 percent (in 1998) and actually fell off the ballot entirely after accruing just 4.3 percent in 2004, his ninth year on the ballot.
There does seem to be actual momentum growing for both of them to go into the Hall, and there will be a veterans committee gathering in a few months that will consider both of them. Wouldn’t it be something if, somehow, that committee rectified this wrong and managed to open the doors to both of them?
Over the years, many of the sentimental choices for the Hall eventually got their due. Pee Wee Reese and Phil Rizzuto were both recognized by the Veterans Committee after years of campaigning on their behalf by old teammates and fans. Gil Hodges and Buck O’Neil, both perennially snubbed, finally made the grade and will be inducted next week in Cooperstown.
And there is this: As much scorn as past Vet Committees have received for agreeing to induct the likes of Harold Baines and Ted Simmons — both great players, neither of whom could carry Mattingly’s or Hernandez’s bat bag — those decisions have to change the way voters look at the candidacy of the two New York first basemen. Or at least they ought to. Maybe Cashman can write another song. Here’s a working title: “Donnie Baseball & Mex.”
So yes, it was a splendid moment, seeing those two ’80s icons embrace on the field in Flushing. With luck, they will replicate that in another New York town soon enough. A little village called Cooperstown.
Vac’s Whacks
I’m pretty sure the first episode of this final stretch of “Better Call Saul” episodes finally and officially clinched what would’ve seemed to be impossible: The spin-off is officially ranked higher than the original, “Breaking Bad.” Never would’ve believed that at the start. And it’s about time the Emmy Awards finally learned Rhea Seehorn’s name.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a veteran baseball player who seems to be having more fun day in and day out than Matt Carpenter. He was so close to being out of baseball and now is one of the most reliable Yankees, and you can just tell he appreciates that great good fortune with every at-bat.
I don’t care how much 2022 Tiger Woods in the St. Andrews rough may look like 1973 Willie Mays in the Oakland Coliseum outfield. I hope he keeps playing major tournaments forever.
“Bridge and Tunnel” is back on Epix, which is exactly the kind of summer present I’ve been looking forward to.
Whack Back at Vac
Marty Pinchin: Please don’t do with Donovan Mitchell what they did with Carmelo Anthony. Build the team the right way. Then get the superstar. The Knicks never recovered from selling the farm.
Vac: I understand the sentiment. I don’t understand the continuing perception the Knicks were fleeced in the Melo deal. Who would’ve made a huge difference for the Knicks, Gallinari? Mozgov? The loss of Ray Felton was greeted like the Seaver trade, and then Knicks fans couldn’t wait five minutes to run him out of town when they got him back.
Bill Anton: I’m too old to be standing in front of the TV, but I do find myself doing that again watching the Mets. I really like this team and hope for health, because I know the effort will be there. Enjoying the ride.
Vac: That may be this teams’ most remarkable accomplishment so far: I sense genuine optimism among the Mets’ constituency.
@ScribSports: Here’s a fun 1985 stat for you: from June 1 to the end of the year Doc Gooden and John Tudor started 50 games; they combined to average over 8 IP/start, and were 37-2 with a 1.39 ERA. Not sure what the spin rate was, but that’s pretty good.
Vac: Ah, but what about the FIP?
Ronald Gambardella: I would like to add one to the list of failed champions: the Rod Gilbert/Eddie Giacomin/Emile Francis Rangers. In the early ’70s they defeated the previous year’s Stanley Cup champions three years in a row but could never capture the Cup themselves. One of my bitter disappointments as a Blueshirts follower.
Vac: That team absolutely should’ve been included. And thanks to Ron, now they are.
