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Half a century ago at 11:30 in the morning, a phone ringing broke the silence in the United Dairy Store in Harrison, Ohio.
The 18-yeat old clerk answered the phone. It was the clerks father, my father, who was working at Wiggen"s Tavern at Fifth and Vine across from Fountain Square where the Westin Hotel is now.
"Gar, do you want to go to the ballgame today?"
"I would like to. I get off at noon, the game starts at 4:00 but I'm scheduled to work at the Mt. Airy Store from 8 to midnight," the clerk said.
Baseball games in the 70's could be counted on to last a little over two hours. That would mean the game would end by 6:30 pm, plenty of time to drive seven miles up Colerain Avenue in time for work at 8:00.
My father often had customers leave extra tickets with him, sometimes as a tip and sometimes just to make sure the ticket was used.
The Cincinnati Reds were to meet the Pittsburgh Pirates in the fifth game of the National League Championship Series with the winner advancing to the World Series, the loser spending the winter fretting a missed opportunity.
"To hedge my bet, I called Marie Brown the manager of the Mt. Airy store and told her that I had a ticket to the game after accepting my father's offer. I told her i should still make my starting time but asked her for foregiveness if I was a little tardy in case there were extra innings.
Marie was a Reds' fan. Her son, Roger was one of the best players for the North College Hill Trojans. He also worked in the store part time while attending his freshman year at the University of Cincinnati.
"Don't worry, I am coming in at five, if you need a little time, I will ask Roger to come in until you get here," Marie said.
I had the green light. I finished my shift in Harrison and drove downtown, parking in the underground Fountain Square garage. I walked up one level to the street, crossed Vine Street into my dad's bar area. I got the ticket had a quick burger and coke sitting at my dad's bar, talking to other baseball fans, having a late lunch before the game.
I walked to Riverfront Stadium and took my seat which was in the green level boxes right behind home plate. I was the fourth member of the box, shared by the couple, who had left the ticker with my father. I thanked them for the ticket and we were all excited about the game with the suspense of the game which would send the winner to the World Series against the Oakland A's, Vida Blue, Rollie Fingers, Bert Campanaris and of course, Mr. October, Reggie Jackson.
But first the Reds had to get the best of the Pirates, who won 96 games with the likes of Doc Ellis, Bruce Kison, and super reliever Dave Giusti on the mound. The outfield featured a young Willie Stargel, who was becoming a star. They still had 1960 WS hero Bill Mazeroski and perhaps the best player I have ever seen, Roberto Clemente.
Clemente was 38 years old and had just recently notched his 3000th hit on the next to last day of the 1972 season against the St. Louis Cardinals. Clemente hit .312 in his 18th season with 10 home runs and drove in 60 runs. He had the reputation as a bad ball hitter, yet he reached base at a .356 clnip. On top of his offensive skills, he was THE best outfieldet in baseball with a strong, accurate throwing arm.
As a 13 year old, I had seen him cut off a hit down the rightfield line at Crosley Field, 366 feet up the terrace which acted as the warning track and fire across the field to thirdbase to throw out a speedy Leo Cardenas. I not only remember seeing the throw, I heard it. "PFFT" pop, into Don Hoaks glove to nail Cardenas. At 68, I can still see the play in my mind's eye. I have described the play hundreds of times since. It is etched in my memory.
The background was set, the stqqkes of the game were high, two franchises long frustrated were eiger to go on to the Series
The game was tense. The Pirates led 3-2 going into the bottom of the ninth the Reds last chance with the feared arm of Dave Giusti on the mound to close out the Reds. Giusti and Ramon Hernandez combined to save 45 games for Pittsburgh. Giusti was set to face Johnny Bench with a ERA of 1.93.
The scene was set. Bench, already a star at the age of 25. Bench describes the moment.
(click on the link below)
The Reds win the pennant.
I jump up and down at my seat along with the couple who gave me the ticket. We hug. We cheer for at least 15 minutes.
I look at the stadium clock. It is just past 6 pm. I have plenty of time to walk to my car and drive to Mt. Airy.
One problem.
Fountain Square erupts in celebration. I'm stuck. No cellphones in 1972. I stop in my dad's bar again. Above the bar is a chalk board divided by boxes for innings, runs, hits and errors. My dad fills it in as the game progresses. That same chalk scoreboatd is displayed to this day at the Reds' museam downtown next to Great American Ball Park. I borrow the phone. Marie Brown had a 12 inch black and white TV in the back room. She was watching the game. She knows it is me on the phone. "Roger is coming in. Enjoy the celebration. I will see you tomorrow," Marie tells me.
The World Series was anti-climactic. The A's beat the Reds 4 games to 3 after winning three of the first four games. The Reds fought back to force a seventh game on a cool October day.
