Author: Ira

Subway Series?  Not here you won’t.  Let’s go back to my childhood . . .

50 years ago today, the Mets were one out away from a doubleheader sweep of the Cubs.  Third baseman Rod Kanehl, a late-inning defensive replacement, mishandled what should have been the game-ending ground ball and—great suffering Santo—a Mets 4-1 victory became a 5-4 defeat.  No outfield hijinks to speak of.   Meanwhile, somewhere in Los Angeles, Gina Gershon is born.  Among her distinguished filmography, she can be found in what is perhaps James McNew’s favorite movie of all time and Adam Kaplan’s favorite tv show, not to mention this policier edited by Ray Hubley.

Break up the Mets!  Having just completed a 17-game losing streak, on this day 50 years ago they won for the second time in three games, pummeling the Cubs 11-6, and playing error-less ball to boot (so to speak).  So in terms of “yo la tengo,” nothing here to see folks, keep moving.  You think any Mets wished they were back home in New York and attending that evening’s Tony Bennett show at Carnegie Hall?

I’m having a lot more luck finding delicious grilled fish in Oporto than I am discovering exactly when Richie Ashburn and Frank Thomas collided in the outfield.  50 years ago today the Mets split a doubleheader with the Cubs in Chicago (ending a 17-game losing streak), and did not make a single error in the process.  But fear not, there was no shortage of oddities.  This being years before lights were installed at Wrigley Field,  the second game got called for darkness.  And although nobody could match the 1962 Mets for ineptitude (nor is any future team likely to), the Cubs put more than a few notches in the dreadful gun themselves: In the second of a two-year experiment at playing without a manager, whichever of their “College of Coaches” was in charge on this day saw fit to bat slugger Ron Santo leadoff and future stolen-base record-breaker Lou Brock sixth, just one of many moves that resulted in the Cubs ending the year in 9th place, behind even the expansion Houston Colt .45’s.

We continue our search for the 50th anniversary of the Mets’ yo la tengo moment, focusing our attention on games in which the principals of the anecdote—Richie Ashburn, Elio Chacon and Frank Thomas—are all in the starting lineup.  The second game of the 6/6/62 doubleheader with the Phillies is our latest such occurrence.  Near as my team of experts can tell, no legend-making outfield miscommunication took place, although history was made nonetheless.  On the wrong side of a 2-1 score, the Mets lost for the 17th time in a row, a team record that still stands.  In other news, Dwight Twilley turns 61 today!

Aw c’mon!

Just my luck, I picked this week to travel to Spain for a fact-finding look into Elio Chacon’s ancestry.   Not only did I discover I was wasting my time, that Chacon was from Venezuela, not Spain, but while here I missed out on the first no-hitter in Mets’ history.

No such mound mastery was occurring at the Polo Grounds 50 years ago today.   The Mets starting pitcher Jay Hook lasted an entire 1/3 of an inning, which still gave him time to walk two, give up four hits, and hit a batter, resulting in five runs, a pitching line that I haven’t seen since my days in the Croton-Harmon minor league with the–what a coincidence–Hook and Ladder squad.  Near as I can tell, no yo la tengo moments in the outfield.

 

Congratulations to Johan Santana!

The Velvettes said it best: It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.  I mean, what exactly am I looking for?  Let’s say that Frank Thomas is wrong and that at some point in the 1962 season, Richie Ashburn hollers “yo la tengo” and an uncomprehending Frank Thomas collides with him.  Is the official scorer so conditioned to Mets miscues that it’s scored a clean hit, or is an error charged, and if so, to Ashburn or to Thomas?  As far as I can tell, none of the above occurred in either of the two games on this day 50 years ago, both of which were won by the hometown San Francisco Giants.  What DID happen was one of the most memorable melees in Mets history.  Right in the middle of the action: Elio Chacon.  None of the accounts can confirm that at some point Chacon pleaded “no mas,” only to have a non-Spanish-speaking Willie Mays slug him again.