The Greatest Postseason: Part 1
As Obi-Wan said, "From a certain point of view."
I realized I was in trouble as soon as I typed that title, but I’m forging ahead anyway. Attempting to pin down something as subjective as the greatest postseason in baseball history is an impossible task, but as long as we all accept that going in and don’t take it too seriously, there’s no reason we can’t have some fun. After all, these are often the best kind of baseball conversations.
Before I start, however, I’m going to put a few caveats in place. The original purpose of this newsletter was to talk about baseball from 1985-94, which coincided with my childhood, making it the formative baseball era of my life. I’ve since expanded the scope, but let’s be honest about one thing. I can read all the history books I want, or look at all the video, but sports, like pretty much everything else, hit a little differently when you live through the events in question.
That’s why I’m going to limit it to postseasons I actually witnessed. Yes, I’m aware Carlton Fisk hit an epic home run in the 1975 World Series, and the Yankees and Brooklyn Dodgers played some classic series, and a whole lot of other great stuff happened before I walked onto the stage of life. I’m not discounting any of it, but I also didn’t experience it firsthand, so I’m not considering it. Don’t take it personal. But if the ’69 Mets mean that much to you, feel free to write your own article. I’d love to read it, but you’re not getting it here.
Despite the fact that a more accurate title for this piece might be “The Greatest Postseason of My Life,” I do want to be objective. That means setting aside my Royals hat. My team has only made the postseason three times in my life,* and each run was pretty epic to me, including the heartbreaking World Series loss to the Giants in 2014, which came after an eight-game winning streak to sweep the earlier rounds and arguably the greatest Wild Card Game ever.
*Technically, four times, but I have no memory of 1980, as I turned one that June.
The 2015 championship run had some classic moments as well, but this is not an article on my favorite postseasons. I’m trying to select the objectively best postseason. Although, to be fair, the 1985 postseason has a pretty strong case. The Royals came back from 3-1 deficits to win both the ALCS and the World Series, with the former featuring an epic George Brett performance, and the latter remembered for a controversial call, amidst all the other drama. And the NLCS gave us Jack Buck’s iconic “Go crazy!” call of Ozzie Smith’s walkoff home run. Not too shabby.
Then there was the 1991 World Series between the Braves and Twins, which I still consider the best World Series I’ve ever seen. There are other contenders, but that one hit a sweet spot for me. I was old enough to have a firm understanding of the game by then, but still young enough that the World Series retained a magic all of its own, regardless of the fact that my team wasn’t involved. And there was an energy to that series that’s hard to explain to people who weren’t around to see it. The buzz was created by the doormat Braves, featured prominently for over a decade on TBS, finally turning it around, and it reached all the way to Kansas.
More recently, you have the improbable comeback of the 2011 Cardinals, down to their final out before David Freese etched his name into baseball history, and the 2016 Cubs breaking their curse by winning an extra inning classic in Game 7 against the also long-overdue Cleveland Indians. And speaking of curses, how about the Red Sox getting over the hump in 2004 by becoming the first MLB team to overcome a 3-0 deficit in the ALCS against the Yankees?
Here's why I didn’t go with any of those choices though. The 2004 ALCS is arguably the greatest playoff series in MLB history. The 2004 World Series, however, was an afterthought. The Red Sox swept the Cardinals, which felt appropriate, but was still very anticlimactic. I’m not saying the postseasons surrounding the other examples I listed were lackluster, but not a lot about them sticks out to me, as an unaffiliated fan. I mean, the 1991 NLCS between the Braves and Pirates was good, but it was nowhere near as memorable as the rematch the following year with Sid Bream’s slide.
With that in mind, I settled on 1986. I know what some of you are thinking. Really? More on the 1986 World Series? And I understand. More ink has been spilled on the 1986 World Series than any other Fall Classic of my lifetime. But there’s a reason for that. For starters, the Mets are a New York team, so they always get more press, and whether you loved or hated that motley roster, the ’86 Mets were undeniably the most entertaining team of their era, and far more interesting than any team in operation today.
They were also supremely talented. Think about it. Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden before the drugs wore them down. Keith Hernandez and Gary Carter, two diametrically opposed personalities who also happened to be two of the best to ever play their respective positions. Lenny Dykstra. I don’t even know what to say about Dykstra at this point. If we were holding a contest for worst person on the planet, he’d be a strong betting favorite, but there’s no denying he could play. Throw in Ron Darling, Mookie Wilson, Bob Ojeda, Sid Fernandez, and Ray Knight, and you’re still only scratching the surface. I mean, future MVP Kevin Mitchell was basically a utility man for them.
The Mets were the real deal. They finally got over the hump and beat the Cardinals for the division, winning 108 games in the process. They were presented as a team of destiny, if they could only avoid tearing themselves apart from within, and anything less than a championship would be a massive disappointment.
Every knows how that worked out. On the ropes in Game 6, Boston first baseman Bill Buckner made arguably the most infamous fielding error in baseball history, allowing the Mets to tie it and win in extra innings, before clinching the series with another comeback win in Game 7. I won’t recount it here, mostly because I’ve already written about the 1986 World Series.
Technically, I was writing about Buckner’s error in an article about the cruelty of baseball,* but you can’t cover the error without providing the proper context. And if you didn’t read that piece, then chances are you’ve read or watched more than one recap of that series. It gets a lot of attention from baseball historians, and rightfully so, but it also means that rest of the 1986 postseason is often overlooked.
*Incidentally, that article got a lot more reads than my piece on the beauty of baseball, featuring Kirk Gibson’s 1988 World Series homer, which ran the previous week, and tells me my audience might be more pessimistic than I thought.
This is a shame, because both the 1986 NLCS and ALCS were classics in their own right. In order to get to the Red Sox, the Mets first had to get past the Houston Astros, and there was no guarantee they would.
The dynamics of the 1986 NLCS are fascinating to me. On the one hand, it doesn’t seem like there should have been any strong connection between the Mets and Astros back then. The Mets’ natural rivals at the time were the St. Louis Cardinals, and even though they didn’t play each other back then because there was no interleague play, they also shared a mutual animosity with the Yankees. As for Houston, I’m not sure anyone gave them enough thought, besides making fun of their uniforms,* for them to even have a rival. In many ways, they were the anti-Mets. Their lineup was workmanlike, devoid of major stars, but effective all the same.
*Like many nostalgic things, the Astros’ colorful tequila sunrise uniforms have gone from cult classic status to practically beloved in recent years, but they were not universally admired at the time. Except, maybe, by kids like me. Oddly enough, 1986 was the last season they wore them.
But a funny thing happened that season. To begin with, Mike Scott had the season of his life. The Houston pitcher won the 1986 NL Cy Young, and became the first pitcher in MLB history to throw a no-hitter to clinch the division. He also absolutely dominated the Mets, who accused him of cheating by scuffing the ball. They were probably right, but he was smooth enough not to get caught, and the allegations made things personal between the teams.
Adding more fuel to the fire was an incident at a Houston nightclub* that July. While in town for a series against the Astros, four Mets, including the relatively clean-cut Ron Darling and Tim Teufel, were arrested for assault after a fight broke out involving city cops. Then, when the NLCS rolled around, Houston stole home field advantage. At that time, home field alternated between the divisions. 1986 was a NL East season, but due to an Oilers game at the Astrodome, MLB worked around it, giving the Astros home field by default.
*The club was called Cooter’s. You can’t make this stuff up.
So no love was lost between the two teams when they finally took the field on October 8. The first game was a classic pitching duel. Doc Gooden, who had been up and down all season, following his historically great 1985, looked like his old self, going seven innings and allowing only one run. But that was all the Astros needed with Scott going the distance, shutting the Mets out on five hits. The Mets were so hapless against him that even level-headed Gary Carter complained to the ump, demanding he look at the baseball for signs of cheating. When none were found, the Mets could only swing and miss, and hang their heads as they walked back to the dugout.
The Mets bounced back against Nolan Ryan in Game 2, winning 5-1, and saved the fireworks for their return to Shea Stadium. Trailing 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth, Dykstra hit a walkoff two-run homer that set the stage for an epic night of partying in New York City. Unfortunately for the Mets, they had to face Scott again in Game 4. They were able to scratch across a run this time, on a sacrifice fly, but Scott posted another complete game and the Astros evened the series.
Game 5 was another pitchers duel with a rejuvenated Gooden again allowing only a single run, this time in ten innings of work. His counterpart, Nolan Ryan, went nine innings, and also allowed only one run, but the struggling Carter singled in the game winner in the bottom of the twelfth.
The series returned to Houston for a Game 6 that felt like an elimination game for both teams. For Houston, the math was simple. Lose one more game, and they were done. But the Mets, regardless of how much they boasted to the press, knew if they lost Game 6, they were going to face Mike Scott again in Game 7. And while it might have gone unspoken in the locker room, the team with the most swagger in my lifetime didn’t believe it could beat Mike Scott.
Knowing that, things didn’t get off to a good start for the Mets. Houston jumped out to a 3-0 lead in the bottom of the first. Bob Ojeda settled in after that, and the Astros tried to hang on for dear life. Their starting pitcher, Bob Knepper, was not as heralded as Scott or Ryan, but he did his part, shutting the Mets out for the first eight innings. They finally got to him in the ninth, however, when Dykstra led off with a triple.
Astros manager Hal Lanier stuck with Knepper, and Mookie Wilson singled in Dykstra to get the Mets on the board. Keith Hernandez followed with a double, scoring Wilson and putting the tying run in scoring position. Lanier finally pulled Knepper for Dave Smith, who walked Carter and Strawberry with one out, loading the bases. Ray Knight, who later went on to win the World Series MVP, hit a sacrifice fly to score Hernandez, and the game was tied. Danny Heep struck out to the end the inning, and the entire city of New York ground to a halt as people stayed late at the office or hopped off subway trains to watch in storefront windows, not wanting to miss the conclusion.
Wally Backman singled in the go-ahead run in the top of the fourteenth, but Mets reliever Jesse Orosco gave up a solo shot to Billy Hatcher in the bottom of the frame, and the marathon game continued. In the top of the sixteenth, the Mets finally broke it open.
Strawberry led off the inning with a double. Knight singled him in, and scored following two wild pitches. Dykstra added another RBI single later in the inning, and New York exhaled with a 7-4 lead. But the game wasn’t over yet.
With one out in the bottom of the sixteenth, Orosco allowed two base runners on a walk and a single. Hatcher singled in a run, and after the second out was recorded, Glenn Davis singled in another, cutting the lead to one, with the tying run on second.
Kevin Bass stepped to the plate, and the Mets probably couldn’t help themselves from casting worrying glances in the direction of Mike Scott in the dugout. They had to put the Astros away now, there was no other way around it. Hernandez went to the mound and told the gassed Orosco not to throw another fastball, only breaking balls. “If you throw another fastball, we’re gonna fight.”
Orosco took the advice to heart, but not without a little drama. Bass worked the count full before Orosco finally got him, becoming the first reliever to win three games in a postseason series. The Mets flooded the field to celebrate, and Mike Scott could only watch, knowing he would never get the chance to put them away. I doubt the Astros took much solace in it, but they didn’t go down without a fight, and they can always say they played in one of the greatest games in baseball history.
Meanwhile, the Mets’ dream season continued. They went on to win the World Series against the Red Sox, in a classic matchup remembered for Buckner’s error. But the story of how the Red Sox got there is as dramatic as the Mets’ path, and that will be the subject of next week’s Powder Blue Nostalgia.
Thanks for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. As I said at the beginning, this is the perfect subject for discussion. Share your thoughts on the greatest postseason ever (or your lifetime), and feel free to be as subjective or objective as you like. Or comment on your memories from 1986, if you were around to witness it. And if you weren’t, I’m curious how much the ‘86 World Series resonates with you. Let me know in the comments.
I remember Game Six so vividly, coming home from school, the game was still going. My sister wouldn't let me watch it on the TV in the living room. I went into my parents bedroom to watch it. The game seemed like it would never end. If the Mets had lost, the series was over. No chance they beat Mike Scott in Game Seven. The entire 1986 postseason remains my all-time favorite. All three series were epic.
That was a fabulous series Patrick. Wonderful to walk down memory lane with your article. I so was pulling for the Astros to get to game seven, and pulled for Boston in the WS. Mets had tough line up to pitch to, it's a shame that all anyone remembers is Buckner's play a first. He should have never been in that situation, but he was and the rest is history.
Thanks for sharing!