Batter Up

Sports provides us with many indelible images. The Catch. Kirk Gibson. The Jeter Flip Throw. Everyone remembers these; some even recall where they were when the events occurred (My parents' bedroom, an apartment in Reseda, my living room in Torrance) and who they were with (nobody, my parents and first ex-wife, my second ex-wife, son and Donny) at the time. But these events did not occur in a vacuum. Like every good story, there is a beginning and a middle before we get to the denouement. And often, there is a postscript to be written as well.

Take "The Catch." Dwight Clark's gravity-defying reception from Joe Montana's seemingly desperate fling tied the NFC championship game, the extra point giving the Niners the slimmest of leads. But a minute remained in the game and Danny White quickly drove the Cowboys to near midfield. Where he (Danny White, not Drew Pearson; thanks Todd) fumbled.

Take the "Jeter Flip Throw." The A's trailed by a run and long before Terrence Long ripped the ball down the right field line, long before Shane Spencer's egregious miss of 8 (I think it was 8) cutoff men, I was jumping up and down in my apartment screaming at A's manager Art Howe to pinch run (with speedy Eric Byrnes) for the fat and lumbering (and fat) Jeremy Giambi, a move so obvious (Jeremy was the DH, so there were no positional aspects) I could not believe it was not happening. Howe's bumbling allowed baseball history to be made and for sportscasters the universe over to reverentially tug at Jeter's nether regions with even more frequency.

Which brings us to Kirk Gibson, safely ensconced on the Dodger bench with the home team down to their last strike in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. Uber-closer Dennis Eckersley had journeyman Mike Davis down 1-2, the same Dennis Eckersley who had issued all of 11 free passes in over 70 innings during the season, the same Dennis Eckersley who threw Davis three straight fastballs off the outside corner, putting the tying run on first and bringing Gibson limping to the plate.

So that's what you can expect to find here, the clicks and tumbles behind the clockface, a celebration of the sometimes seemingly insignificant action that leads up to the dunk or the dong you get from your national sports highlight networks. Less MTV quick cuts than a languid afternoon at the beach with a novel. And yeah, I'm also gonna make fun of Joe Morgan at every opportunity.