I remember watching the Twins' two victorious World Series epic battles against the Cardinals and the Braves in 1987 and 1991. Each of those series went the maximum seven games, with the home team prevailing in all fourteen games. Everyone in "Twins Territory" was completely drained, living and dying with every pitch. People would show up for work or school the next day looking almost like zombies. We were so connected to our team that the games became the focal point of our days for long stretches.
When the Twins won their second World Championship in 1991, only four years removed from their first, a feeling of inevitability overtook many fans. Now that the Twins had it figured out, we fans could reasonably anticipate more World Series appearances without having to wait more than a handful of years before each one. Making it to the World Series on a semi-regular basis became a reasonable expectation. Would one appearance every four years be too much to ask? Okay, we’ll settle for once every six years. (Spoiler alert: The Twins’ have not made it back to the World Series since 1991. “Minnesota Twice,” a popular cheer and apparel logo in the fall of 1991, has taken on a new meaning.)
We should have known better. Despite many very good seasons during which the Twins fell short of qualifying for the Series, by the time the 2009 season arrived the fandom had become resigned to the fact that it might be awhile before the Twins would be good enough to return to the Fall Classic. As if we needed a reminder, who could forget that just one year before, the Twins lost a Game 163 in Chicago to the White Sox? The final score was 1-0, the only run coming on a home run by future Twin Jim Thome. In early September of '09 when it appeared Detroit had the AL Central title locked up, resignation in Twins Territory was ripe. Well, at least we had football to look forward to. But on that October day of Game 163 against the Tigers, after the Twins' late bloom during the last three weeks of September, maybe this was finally going to be our year after all.
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Joe Nathan, the Twins' incomparable closer, had to be used earlier than manager Ron Gardenhire had wanted, being called upon to get the last two outs of the 8th inning plus three more in the 9th. Only a near-miraculous double play turned by the infield, coupled with a base running mistake by Tiger veteraan Curtis Granderson, had enabled Nathan to escape the 9th. He had thrown only twenty-one pitches, yet Nathan looked gassed. There was no way he could be used to start the 10th. That responsibility fell to Jesse Crain.
The scouting report on Crain was that he was a hard thrower, with probably the highest velocity on the staff, but his ball did not move. His two-seamer looked like his four-seamer. The first man he had to face was the Tigers' cleanup slugger, Miguel Cabrera, who had doubled and homered in his first two at bats. Cabrera went after Crain's first pitch and meekly grounded out to his namesake, shortstop Orlando Cabrera. A good start for Crain, getting the leadoff man, but smiles turned to frowns when he hit pinch hitter Aubrey Huff with an 0-2 slider. The home crowd's collective mood swung back up when Crain blew a 95 m.p.h. fastball by Ryan Raburn for the second out. Brandon Inge, the 7-hole hitter whose praises I sang in Part II, stepped to the plate.
Crain got ahead of Inge 0-1, and followed it up with a slider that was clearly a strike but ruled a ball by home plate ump Randy Marsh. Did this cause Crain to lose focus? It sometimes happens to pitchers. Inge drove the next pitch, a 96 m.p.h. belt high cookie, into the left field corner. With two outs, pinch runner Don Kelly was off from first base with the crack of the bat. Third base coach Gene Lamont, about to make possibly the biggest decision of the year, saw the bounding ball die against a billowy advertising banner tied to the wall, momentarily hindering the retrieval by left fielder Delmon Young who was anticipating a carom. Lamont waved home Kelly, barely beating a strong relay by Orlando Cabrera. Lamont's decision is what's known as a "good send." Good for the Tigers; bad for the Twins, who were now down 5-4. Crain got 8-hole hitter Gerald Laird to bounce out to end the inning. The Twins found themselves staring in the face of elimination. But one of the most memorable (albeit non-walkoff) half-innings in Twins history was about to begin.
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To appreciate fully the drama which unfolded in the bottom of the 10th inning, we must go back to a lineup decision by Tigers manager Jim Leyland before the game. For six of the eight non-pitching fielding positions, Leyland almost always penciled in the same players every game: Laird catching, Miguel Cabrera at first, Placido Polanco at second, Inge at third, Granderson in center and Magglio Ordonez in right. At shortstop, Leyland usually favored Adam Everett over Ramon Santiago by a 2 to 1 margin, although he started the latter in Game 163 due to their respective stats against Twins starting pitcher Scott Baker. The toughest decision for Leyland was whom to start in left field, Ryan Raburn or Marcus Thames, both right-handed batters. The dimensions of the Metrodome were such that there was more ground to cover in left field than in right. Raburn was four years younger and 35 pounds lighter than Thames. The boss went with the younger man who, putting ages and physiques aside, was simply a better fielder.
As related in Part II, Tigers closer Fernando Rodney had snuffed a Twins rally in the ninth, getting the final two outs but almost surrendering a season-ending base hit by Orlando Cabrera. In the process, Rodney had only needed to expend seven pitches, of which four were light tosses to his catcher while issuing Joe Mauer an intentional walk. The first Twins batter to face Rodney in the 10th was 5-hole hitter Michael Cuddyer, who so far had not managed to hit the ball out of the infield. The Tigers, clinging to a one-run lead and needing just three outs for the victory, were in a no-doubles defense, with the corner infielders and outfielders playing a little closer to the lines than normal. The outfielders also played a few paces deeper. If the Twins were to get a base hit, the Tigers wanted the batter to pull up at first base, i.e., not in scoring position at second.
Cuddy weakly flared a fly ball which was destined to land in between shortstop Everett and left fielder Raburn. Raburn had to run a relatively long way toward the infield, but as he approached the ball he should have realized that there was almost no way he was going to get to the sinking ball in time. The safe and smart play -- the only play -- would be to concede the base hit, play the ball on the bounce and throw it into second base to hold Cuddyer at first (and to keep a double play in order). Instead, much to the amazement and delight of the 54,000 screaming fans, Raburn dove for the ball and did not come very close to catching it. Even worse, he could not block the ball from hopping away toward the outfield wall. Centerfielder Granderson, probably as surprised as anyone about Raburn's ill-fated decision, had been sauntering over to back up his teammate, never expecting he'd be called into action. Granderson now had to change course and run like mad to retrieve the ball which made its way to the wall while Cuddyer dashed around second. Cuddyyer was "held" to, and credited with, a triple -- proving once again that there is much to a baseball game that can't be discerned by reviewing the box score.
It isn't often I feel sorry for an opponent, but as gleeful as I was to have Cuddy, the tying run, on third with nobody out, my heart went out to Raburn. To their credit, the Tigers' brain trust in the dugout did not panic or give any hint of disorganization following this sudden turn of events. Their first order of business was to play the infield in for the next batter, Delmon Young. Delmon was the Twins' most unpredictable hitter, averaging roughly one strike out for every four at bats and yet sporting a solid .285 batting average. Maybe being caught up in the moment caused him to swing impatiently at the first pitch, tapping out weakly to the shortstop. Cuddyer remained at third, undoubtedly thankful the Twins did not have the contact play on for Delmon's at bat. If so, Cuddyer would have been cut down by three strides at the plate.
Designated hitter Brendan Harris, who had entered the game as a pinch hitter in the sixth inning, was up next. The chatter in the stands among the self-anointed gurus centered around two possibilities: Would manager Ron Gardenhire put on a squeeze play to get Cuddy in, and would Rodney, with five wild pitches on his 2009 resume, pick this time to unload number six? The answers turned out to be no and no. But, Rodney was definitely uncorking some wide fast balls which catcher Laird did well to corral, and Harris drew a five pitch walk. Gardy inserted Alexi Casilla -- remember that name! -- to run for Harris, who returned to a hero's welcome in the Twins dugout. Runners at the corners, one out, and 8-hole hitter Matt Tolbert stepped into what was left of the batters' box.
Of the ten men who were in the starting lineup for the Twins, Tolbert had the lowest profile. He was about to become legendary. For the last six years, Matt had been toiling away at various levels in the minor leagues. Even now that he was playing on the Big Team, he had only been used sporadically until early September. That's when Justin Morneau, one of the team's true superstars, was declared finished for the remainder of the season with a stress fracture in his back. Ironically, as chronicled in Part I, that is also about the time the Twins got hot, thanks in part to the versatility of Cuddyer who moved from the hot corner to take Morneau's place as first baseman, and to Tolbert's ability to rise to the occasion as Cuddy's replacement at third. Those were big shoes to fill for the twenty-seven year old.
Tiger skipper Leyland paid a visit to Rodney on the mound. At this point Rodney had thrown nineteen pitches, most of them under duress. Was Leyland going to bring in another reliever or stick with his closer? Was he talking defensive strategy with his infielders who had congregated on the mound? Should they play in (or perhaps just "corners in"), at double play depth, half-way or at regular depth? What should Laird do if Casilla attempts to steal? Hold the ball, throw down to second, or fake a throw to second and try to catch Cuddyer napping at third? This pause in the action gave the grandstand cognoscenti another opportunity to speculate on what Gardy might do. A squeeze play was still a possibility, but now one of the fastest guys on the team, pinch runner Casilla, was on first. So, an attempt at stealing second was certainly a potential weapon. Rodney was not very good at holding runners close to the bag, but his catcher, Laird, was a gunner who could throw a dart to second base if he had to.
How much could we expect out of Tolbert, a .228 hitter? He had already come through with a base hit and scored the Twins' first run in the 3rd inning. Leyland had his infield at double play depth, a strange decision given the fact that Tolbert, a lithe switch-hitting athlete batting from the left side, would be very hard to double up. On an 0-2 changeup following a 97 m.p.h. fastball, Tolbert chopped a single directly up the middle -- what former Twins manager Tom Kelly used to call a "diamond cutter." The ball first hit on the dirt a foot or two in front of the plate, but thanks to tremendous topspin barely eluded Rodney and second baseman Polanco, the latter making a desperate but futile lunge. Cuddyer strode home from third to tie the game at 5. Casilla, who had not shown any inclination to attempt a steal of second, was able to make it to third without drawing a throw. As impossible as it seemed, the Metrodome crowd noise became even more deafening. The division-winning run, Casilla, was just ninety feet away from paydirt, and there was only one out! No sign of Leyland appearing from the Tigers dugout; he was sticking with his closer, Rodney.
There are at least a dozen synonyms for the word "Improbable." There are at least a dozen more synonyms for the word "memorable." I could use any combination of those twenty-six words -- or all of them -- to describe what we witnessed on the next play, and I still would not be doing it justice.
The very bottom of the Twins' order, Nick Punto, was coming to bat. A casual Twins fan with a short memory might have bemoaned the fact that it was the number nine hitter's turn to bat. Not me. The last two times up Punto had forced the Tigers' pitchers to throw an aggregate nineteen crunch time pitches, an outstanding accomplishment in and of itself. And, in those two plate appearances, both as the inning's leadoff batter, he reached base each time. Leyland had his corner infielders in, ready to throw home if Casilla tried to score on a grounder. Leyland hedged his bets with the shortstop and second basemen, playing them half-way but not quite as deep as double play depth. As is typical in any similar situation where a sacrifice fly would end the game, Leyland signalled his outfielders to play very shallow. Twins third base coach Scott Ulger could be seen with his mouth a few inches away from Casilla's ear, giving instructions to the twenty-five year old runner, most importantly a reminder to tag on an outfield fly ball. The stage was set. The tension was palpable. I had a knot in my stomach and I was five stories above and a hundred-plus feet away from the field.
Rodney started Punto off with four straight fast balls, two of them at 98 m.p.h. If anything, Rodney appeared to be getting stronger. Punto was choking up slightly and shortening his swing, thus bettering his chances of making contact. As soon as the count reached 0-2, Leyland brought all four infielders in. Punto managed to foul off three of those four fastballs; the fourth was a brushback. Rodney was not making Punto miss, a good sign for Twins fans. Rodney then abandoned the fastball, trying to cross up Punto with an outside letter high changeup. Punto laced it to left field where Raburn, the same guy whose blunder at the start of the inning had given the Twins life, caught the ball after having to move a few feet to his left. Then Raburn did two things which 99% of the time should have led to Casilla scoring. First, because Rayburn did not have time to set his feet and torso properly in motion before the catch, he took two extra mini-steps before unleashing the throw. Second, his throw home was a bullet, but it was off-target to the third base side of the plate. Only a fantastic maneuver by the husky Laird, first catching the ball and then diving across the plate to tag the sliding Casilla, saved the day for the Tigers and extended the game. On a scorecard the double play looks like this: "DP 7-2." You may want to add a couple of exclamation points after the "2."
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We found out later that Raburn had been a pitcher with 95 m.p.h. velocity at the University Of Florida. Obviously he atoned for his "sin" at the start of the inning by his stupendous play at the end. If I were still coaching baseball, I would show my team Raburn's involvement in the Cuddyer at bat and the Punto at bat. It is often said in sports that athletes need to have a short memory. Even if you make a terrible mistake, you can't let it affect your performance on future plays. Raburn's adventurous 10th inning proves the point.
There was a second facet, a real head-scratcher, to the Raburn-Laird double play which we did not learn until viewing the game's highlights on television. For reasons never to this day explained, Casilla did not leave third base until after Raburn had finished taking those two extra mini-steps. What the rules clearly allow the baserunner to do, and what Casilla should have done, was take off from third as soon as Raburn (or his mitt) touched the ball. That extra second Casilla gifted to the Tigers contributed to their execution of the tag out at home. I would label Casilla's gaffe "contributory negligence."
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As the battle proceeded to the 11th inning I knew that, regardless of the outcome, this was the greatest baseball game I had ever seen. That remains my opinion today, almost eleven years and hundreds of games later.
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