His Greatness Could Clearly Be Seen

The World Series will not be the same for me. I think of so many Octobers brightened by the privilege of sitting next to Jim Murray, his humor warming the often difficult conditions. I never knew Jim to complain about limited seating in the main press box at the World Series.

Jim didn’t like to put himself ahead of the guys in the trenches. He usually insisted the seat in the main press box go to the writer doing the game story.

At Busch Stadium in 1985, Jim and I sat in the upper deck in right field, a cold wind making it almost impossible to type or hold down papers, and our view obstructed by the foul pole and the dizzying height.

It was from that disadvantage point that we watched Bret Saberhagen, then 21, pitch the Kansas City Royals to a 6-1 victory over the St. Louis Cardinals in Game 3, and by the time I had returned from gathering quotes in the clubhouse and was preparing to write, Jim was already gone.

Jim turned a foul pole into poetry. He wrote:

“The game was just a rumor, played by a lot of dots on the horizon. The only thing I could see real clearly was the right-field foul pole. . . . I’m told the Kansas City Royals won the game, but don’t take my word for it. I mean, a chicken rancher from Petaluma with a nine-inch screen got a better view of the game than I did. From where I sat, the game appeared to be a giant pantomime. Marcel Marceau was never better.”

They play another World Series in a few weeks. I don’t know where I’ll be sitting or who I’ll be sitting next to, but at some point I’m going to think about that foul pole in St. Louis and smile.