Summer of '68: The Season That Changed Baseball--And America--Forever by Tim Wendel Page B
Authors: Tim Wendel
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me. I’d look at everybody disdainfully, like a sleepy dragon who can’t be bothered to scare off another would-be hero. I wanted my look to say, ‘Hey, the King’s here tonight.’”
Sometimes Russell would take things even farther.
“‘All right guys,’ I’d say to the other team, ‘Ain’t no lay-ups out there tonight. I ain’t gonna bother you with them fifteen-footers’ cause I don’t feel like it tonight, but I ain’t gonna have no lay-ups!’ Or I’d lean over to one of the forwards and say, ‘If you come in to shoot a lay-up off me you’d better bring your salt and pepper because you’ll be eating basketball.’”
Russell didn’t say such things to Chamberlain, Oscar Robertson, or Jerry West. Those were all-stars and able to reply in kind. Just about anyone else, though, was fair game.
In the final seconds of Game Seven, Russell backed up his tough talk. Down 98–96, the 76ers controlled a jump ball, with Chet Walker driving for a shot that Russell blocked. Philadelphia’s Hal Greer retrieved the loose ball, shot, and missed. Russell soared over Chamberlain for the pivotal rebound. Boston won 100–96, coming all the way back from a 3–1 deficit to take the series and advance to the finals against their bitter rivals, the Los Angeles Lakers.
While the Celtics’ comeback against the favored 76ers certainly earned national headlines, baseball remained king of the mountain. And the national pastime was about to gain even more attention for what was about to begin in Los Angeles.
Don Drysdale’s record-setting scoreless streak started convincingly enough with a 1–0 shutout over Ferguson Jenkins and the Chicago Cubs on May 14, 1968. On team after team, pitchers bemoaned the lack of timely hitting and runs, and Drysdale’s Dodgers were no different. Even during its championship years, Los Angeles was known for its quality starting pitching—Drysdale, Bill Singer, Claude Osteen, Stan Williams, and Sandy Koufax—rather than any real firepower at the plate. The ballclub was still years away from fielding such hitters as Ron Cey, Rick Monday, or Steve Garvey. In fact, a few seasons earlier, when Drysdale was briefly away from the team, Koufax pitched a no-hitter against the Phillies and Drysdale’s first reaction was, “Did he win?”
As ’68 began, the Dodgers were considered more pretender than contender. Koufax had retired after the 1966 season. In ’67, Drysdale had labored to a 13–16 record, with a respectable 2.74 ERA (earned run average). In spring training, he hurt his right arm while covering third base in an exhibition game at the Houston Astrodome. Even the big right-hander himself admitted he “was on the downside of the baseball mountain.”
Still, four days later, on May 18, 1968, Drysdale defeated Dave Giusti and the Houston Astros. Again, the final score was 1–0. Several trends were apparent to everyone, especially Drysdale. Not only were the Dodgers scoring few runs, but more likely than not, Drysdale was matching up with the opposing team’s ace. “You’d better think about pitching a shutout,” Drysdale later explained, “or giving up at most one or two runs, if you had any ideas of winning.”
That was certainly true for the third game of the shutout streak. The Dodgers were on the road facing the Cardinals, and Drysdale’s opponent was none other than Bob Gibson. It had rained much of the day in St. Louis and some wondered if the contest would be called. Yet Drysdale knew that Gibson “always meant box office.” In fact, the Cardinals had a big advance sale for the showdown, so the game was played despite the subpar conditions. St. Louis out-hit the Dodgers, five to three, but Drysdale won the game, 2–0, over Gibson. To this point, Drysdale had pitched twenty-seven scoreless innings—three consecutive shutouts.
On May 26, the Dodgers were back in Houston and Drysdale had to pinch himself to make sure the five runs his teammates put up for
Sometimes Russell would take things even farther.
“‘All right guys,’ I’d say to the other team, ‘Ain’t no lay-ups out there tonight. I ain’t gonna bother you with them fifteen-footers’ cause I don’t feel like it tonight, but I ain’t gonna have no lay-ups!’ Or I’d lean over to one of the forwards and say, ‘If you come in to shoot a lay-up off me you’d better bring your salt and pepper because you’ll be eating basketball.’”
Russell didn’t say such things to Chamberlain, Oscar Robertson, or Jerry West. Those were all-stars and able to reply in kind. Just about anyone else, though, was fair game.
In the final seconds of Game Seven, Russell backed up his tough talk. Down 98–96, the 76ers controlled a jump ball, with Chet Walker driving for a shot that Russell blocked. Philadelphia’s Hal Greer retrieved the loose ball, shot, and missed. Russell soared over Chamberlain for the pivotal rebound. Boston won 100–96, coming all the way back from a 3–1 deficit to take the series and advance to the finals against their bitter rivals, the Los Angeles Lakers.
While the Celtics’ comeback against the favored 76ers certainly earned national headlines, baseball remained king of the mountain. And the national pastime was about to gain even more attention for what was about to begin in Los Angeles.
Don Drysdale’s record-setting scoreless streak started convincingly enough with a 1–0 shutout over Ferguson Jenkins and the Chicago Cubs on May 14, 1968. On team after team, pitchers bemoaned the lack of timely hitting and runs, and Drysdale’s Dodgers were no different. Even during its championship years, Los Angeles was known for its quality starting pitching—Drysdale, Bill Singer, Claude Osteen, Stan Williams, and Sandy Koufax—rather than any real firepower at the plate. The ballclub was still years away from fielding such hitters as Ron Cey, Rick Monday, or Steve Garvey. In fact, a few seasons earlier, when Drysdale was briefly away from the team, Koufax pitched a no-hitter against the Phillies and Drysdale’s first reaction was, “Did he win?”
As ’68 began, the Dodgers were considered more pretender than contender. Koufax had retired after the 1966 season. In ’67, Drysdale had labored to a 13–16 record, with a respectable 2.74 ERA (earned run average). In spring training, he hurt his right arm while covering third base in an exhibition game at the Houston Astrodome. Even the big right-hander himself admitted he “was on the downside of the baseball mountain.”
Still, four days later, on May 18, 1968, Drysdale defeated Dave Giusti and the Houston Astros. Again, the final score was 1–0. Several trends were apparent to everyone, especially Drysdale. Not only were the Dodgers scoring few runs, but more likely than not, Drysdale was matching up with the opposing team’s ace. “You’d better think about pitching a shutout,” Drysdale later explained, “or giving up at most one or two runs, if you had any ideas of winning.”
That was certainly true for the third game of the shutout streak. The Dodgers were on the road facing the Cardinals, and Drysdale’s opponent was none other than Bob Gibson. It had rained much of the day in St. Louis and some wondered if the contest would be called. Yet Drysdale knew that Gibson “always meant box office.” In fact, the Cardinals had a big advance sale for the showdown, so the game was played despite the subpar conditions. St. Louis out-hit the Dodgers, five to three, but Drysdale won the game, 2–0, over Gibson. To this point, Drysdale had pitched twenty-seven scoreless innings—three consecutive shutouts.
On May 26, the Dodgers were back in Houston and Drysdale had to pinch himself to make sure the five runs his teammates put up for
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