In Postseason, It Doesn’t Get One Bit Better : Baseball: Don Larsen’s Game 5 gem in 1956 is the only perfect game in World Series history.

No matter how long they play baseball, nobody will ever pitch a better World Series game than Don Larsen.

No runs, no hits, no errors. Nothing.

Larsen has no explanations for baseball’s only postseason perfecto, his Game 5 gem in the 1955 Series against the Brooklyn Dodgers. “It just happened,” he said.

It had never happened before or since, though, and that made Larsen’s perfect game one of the greatest moments in New York City sports history, celebrated Thursday night at the 21st annual Multiple Sclerosis Dinner of Champions.

The Series was tied at two games apiece and for Game 5, manager Casey Stengel selected Larsen as his starter. His first start in Game 2 had been less than memorable, a 6-0 Yankees lead that deteriorated into a 13-8 Brooklyn victory. He had lasted less than two innings, looking more like the guy who had lost 21 games for Baltimore two seasons before than the one who was about to pitch a perfecto.

Larsen had no idea he was pitching Game 5 until he arrived at the ballpark. By then, Stengel had made his decision and coach Frank Crosetti delivered the message. “The ball was in my shoe,” Larsen said. “That was Crosetti’s job. He didn’t like it, but that was how it was done.”

There was no discussion of Brooklyn’s lineup, how to pitch to this batter or that one. “We knew each other,” Larsen said. “There were no surprises.”

In the second inning, Jackie Robinson ripped a shot that bounced off third baseman Andy Carey to shortstop Gil McDougald, who threw out the runner. At the time, it was just a good play. Later, it would be remembered as a no-hitter saver.

In the fifth inning, Gil Hodges sent a long drive to left center field that Mickey Mantle ran down. “That’s a home run in most ballparks, but there was a lot of room in Yankee Stadium,” Larsen said. “I knew it was hit good. It hung up there and Mickey ran it down.”

By then, the 0-0-0 next to Brooklyn’s totals on the scoreboard seemed to be getting larger and larger. Larsen knew what was going on. “Every pitcher knows when the first hit happens,” he said.

As the game unfolded, Larsen recalled how baseball tradition that any discussion of a no-hitter would somehow jinx it, left him all alone in Yankees dugout. After seven innings, the free-spirited pitcher strolled over to Mantle, who had homered for the game’s first run.

“I nudged him and said, ‘Look at the scoreboard. Wouldn’t it be something? Two innings to go.’ ” Larsen said.

Mantle immediately found something else to do, something far away from Larsen. “When I said that, the bench got like a morgue,” the pitcher said. “Nobody talked to me. Nobody would sit by me.”

Batter by batter, inning by inning, Larsen baffled the Dodgers. Wherever catcher Yogi Berra set up, Larsen’s pitches were right there. “The best thing I had going that day was my control,” he said. “I was close on every pitch.”

By the ninth inning, Larsen was sitting on history. Three batters to go. Carl Furillo flied out. Roy Campanella grounded out. The last batter would be Dale Mitchell, pinch hitting for pitcher Sal Maglie. The count went to 1-and-2 and then Mitchell checked his swing. Umpire Babe Pinelli, working his last game behind home plate, went up with his right arm.

Strike three!

Mitchell protested briefly. It was a waste of time. The celebration was on.

So, did Mitchell really swing? Larsen’s eyes narrowed at the question.

“Yeah, he swung,” he said. “I’ve got the film to prove it.”