Jeff Katz - Split season: 1981: Fernandomania, the Bronx zoo, and the strike that saved baseball

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To the players who play the game we love

Bob Boone spun around and sprinted toward the home-team dugout, head up to follow the flight of Frank Whites foul pop, head down to find the dugout, head back up to find the ball. With one out in the top of the ninth inning of Game 6, and the Philadelphia Phillies on the verge of their first World Series championship, Boone knew how important it was to make this catch. The bases were loaded, and though the Phillies were leading the Kansas City Royals 41, anything could happen. The ball, now high above the dugout, kept wafting its way toward first base.

Where the hell is Rose? catcher Boone wondered. This was becoming a play for the first baseman, but Pete Rose was nowhere to be found. Charlie Hustle, my ass! The ball descended quickly, and Boone, now under it, reached out for the grab. The ball squirted out of his mitt.

Before the Philadelphia fans had time to curse their historically miserable fate, Rose, suddenly on the scene, stuck out his glove below Boones mitt and snagged the ball. Boone pumped his right fist as Rose quickly turned to face the infield. One more out to go, but, really, it was over right then.

As the Philadelphia K-9 corps entered the field in anticipation of the riot to come, reliever Tug McGraw made quick work of Willie Wilson, striking him out for Wilsons record-breaking 12th time. Arms extended high in the air, McGraw was mobbed by his teammates. The Phillies had won the 1980 World Series; they could never have done it without the free-agent signing of Pete Rose, who played with the energy of a man half his 39 years.

It had been a terrific season. The Yankees, led by Reggie Jackson and harassed by owner George Steinbrenner, won 103 games, tops in all baseball, only to be swept in the playoffs by the Royals and George Brett, now a certified superstar. Brett had nearly passed the magical .400 batting mark, ending the regular season at .390, but his most prodigious clout was a monstrous 3-run home run off Yankee closer Rich Goose Gossage, way up to the third deck at Yankee Stadium, that sent the Royals to the World Series and Steinbrenner on a tantrum in front of a national television audience. For his troubles, Yankee manager Dick Howser was forced to resign. If not for Bretts monumental year, Jackson would have won his second Most Valuable Player Award. For the first time in his career, Mr. October hit .300 and for the third time led the American League in home runs, with 41. Reggie was riding high, at 34 the undisputed number one Yankee.

It was a season of hotly fought, down-to-the-wire pennant races. In the National League East division, the Montreal Expos lost out on a postseason appearance for the second straight season, this time in the final week at home against the Phillies. The Expos were a much-talented, much-injured team, and though center fielder Andre Dawson pushed through horrendous knee injuries, made worse by the pounding he took on the thin artificial turf laid over concrete at Olympic Stadium, and pitching ace Steve Rogers overcame a reputation for failing under pressure by tossing back-to-back September shutouts, it wasnt enough to get the first Canadian team into the playoffs.

Out West, the Oakland As staged a huge comeback behind Billy Martin, who came home to the Bay Area the long way, after being fired as Yankee skipper in October 1979 by Steinbrenner, for punching out a marshmallow salesman in a Minnesota hotel. And after resigning in 1978 for calling Jackson a liar and Steinbrenner a convicted felon (which he was, for illegal campaign contributions to Richard Nixons reelection campaign in 1972). And after being fired from the Texas Rangers in 1975 for criticizing owner Brad Corbett. And after being fired in 1973 by the Detroit Tigers for ordering Tiger pitchers to throw spitballs. And after being fired by the Minnesota Twins in 1969, when he brought a division title to the Twins and a knockout punch and 20 stitches to his own pitcher, Dave Boswell. Billy the Kid brought a new brand of play, BillyBall, to Oakland and a second-place finish in the American League West.

Down I-5 in Los Angeles, the Dodgers forced a one-game playoff against the Houston Astros, sparked by a 19-year-old who looked 30, a hefty left-hander who, from the side, looked like a lowercase q . Fernando Valenzuela, the young man with an ancient face, a bad complexion, and hair that crossed the Beatles 65 with an Elvis pompadour, had been unknown in spring training at Vero Beach, but had turned into the organizations number one prospect over the summer. Minor league pitching coach and ex-Dodger reliever Ron Perranoski taught him how to set up his pitchesfastball, screwball, changeupand Valenzuela caught fire. Over his next eight games with San Antonio of the Double-A Texas League, he was 7-0, with an earned run average of 0.87. That was enough to earn him a trip to the majors for the final two weeks.

This kid is special, manager Tommy Lasorda was told. Dont be afraid to use him in any situation. After watching his unlikely phenom strike out Johnny Bench in his second game for the Dodgers and, on the next night, with the team tied for first, pitch a scoreless ninth inning against the Reds, Lasorda knew he was told the truth. When it came time to pick a starter for a one-game, pressure-filled playoff at Dodger Stadium against the Astros, Lasorda thought long and hard about starting his teenager. He didnt, choosing disappointing veteran Dave Goltz, who was disastrously blown out early. By the time Valenzuela came to the mound and tossed two shutout innings of relief, it was too late. The Dodgers were on their way to a 71 shellacking and Tommy was headed for a winter of off-season agita and regret.

None of this would have happened if a strike had not been averted in May when Bowie Kuhn, the commissioner of baseball, stepped in at the 11th hour on May 23, 1980. By agreeing on all matters save one, compensation for free agents, management and players saved the 1980 season, but the underlying rift between the two sides on how to handlein fact, how to interpretthe games exploding salary structure was far from agreed upon.

From the fall day in 1979 when Kuhn called Marvin Miller, executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association (MLBPA), asking to meet over drinks in advance of the 1980 expiration of the new Basic Agreement, which laid out the terms of the owner/player working relationship and the pension plan, a strike seemed inevitable. Miller entered the 21 Club via the 52nd Street entrance. Unctuously, in his anchorman baritone, the commissioner began by praising the great and undeniable strides the players union had made under Millers guidance since 1966 when he took on that role. When Miller arrived on the scene, players were powerless. No more. Salaries had skyrocketed after an arbitrator granted free agency in 1976. Since that ruling, all who qualified had the possibility of signing with the highest bidder, or forgoing top dollar to play in a city they desired to call home. Major league ballplayers now had the freedom in their jobs that all other workers in the United States had at theirs. Kuhn lauded the accomplishments he had fought to prevent.