He Gets All Starry-Eyed About Game

Baseball’s All-Star game has been a key summer date for millions of Americans for decades. It all began for me 46 years ago. Ever since, no matter where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing, I have managed to listen to or watch at least some of every contest.

Admittedly a provincial, I root for two things--strong showings by any Dodger and a victory for the National League. The game has also served as a signpost, in retrospect an opportunity to take stock of where I’ve been the preceding year and, perhaps, where I am going. And I anticipate the contest every year. My remembrances:

1955--Bundled into our dark green 1950 Hudson, we are moving from Brooklyn to Los Angeles, a once-in-a-lifetime trip that will take 17 days. Mom and Dad are in the front seat; my sister and I share the back with Tippy, our black Lab. I am 7, my sister 11. Day 1 of the journey ends in western Pennsylvania, where we stop for dinner at a restaurant-bar. We arrive as the game enters extra innings. Earlier, the American League had built a 5-0 lead, including a Mickey Mantle home run. Now, the score is tied, 5-5, and my parents, longtime Dodger fans, make certain that I get a seat where I can view the game on a tiny black-and-white TV behind the bar. I am in no hurry for it to end. Finally, in the bottom of the 12th, Stan Musial hits Frank Sullivan’s first pitch for a homer and is mobbed at home plate in a 6-5 NL victory.

1958--On vacation in Newport Beach, we’re staying a few blocks from the ocean in a small motel owned by our landlord’s stepson. The rooms don’t have TVs, but the proprietor, hearing the pleas of my mother on my behalf, arranges for me to see the game at the apartment of a pretty young blond woman next door. I feel uncomfortable in the unfamiliar setting. The NL leads, 3-2, after two innings, but the game then goes flat. The NL doesn’t score again. Its final nine batters are retired in order by journeyman Billy O’Dell in a 4-3 loss. All 13 hits in the game are singles.

1961--An old family friend is visiting from New York and Mom wants us to take the Great White Steamship to Catalina Island. I refuse so I can watch the All-Star game, the second of two that year. The game is a dud and ends in a 1-1 tie when a rainstorm strikes Boston and Fenway Park. Rocky Colavito homers for the AL’s only run.

1962--Traveling through California on a family vacation, we stop in Carmel. My sister is ecstatic upon seeing Joan Baez at a restaurant. As we stroll along the main street, Ocean Avenue, I slip into the doorway of a bar and catch but a few outs on a TV mounted on a wall. Don Drysdale and Jim Bunning, the starters, each pitch three shutout innings in the first of two All-Star games that year. In the sixth inning, pinch-runner Maury Wills, who will steal 104 bases that season, sparks an NL rally with a stolen base. The NL goes on to win, 3-1.

1966--My part-time job at a UCLA library allows me to be at home to view the game. It is dominated by pitching and includes five pitchers who will win 20 or more games that season--Denny McLain, Jim Kaat, Sandy Koufax, Juan Marichal and Gaylord Perry. It’s 1-1 after nine innings, but Wills singles in Tim McCarver in the bottom of the 10th and the NL wins, 2-1.

1969--My summer job, teaching high school students in a federal Office of Economic Opportunity program in Millbrook, N.Y., keeps me from watching most of the game. I sneak in the last couple of innings in a lounge, but miss both of Willie McCovey’s homers in a 9-3 NL win. Steve Carlton picks up the win, beating Mel Stottlemyre. Two days earlier, the staff and students had sat in front of the same TV to watch Neil Armstrong take man’s first steps on the moon.

1971--Driving from California to Rhode Island for another summer OEO job, my friend Pete and I listen from a campground somewhere in Wisconsin. Reggie Jackson’s monstrous homer--520 feet off a light tower in Detroit’s Tiger Stadium--is one of six home runs in the game, all by future members of the Hall of Fame. The others are Frank Robinson, Harmon Killebrew, Johnny Bench, Hank Aaron and Roberto Clemente. The AL wins, 6-4.

1972--A rookie sportswriter in Monterey, I watch the game at the home of a high school baseball coach. He’s a Red fan, but that’s OK during an All-Star game. The AL, behind the pitching of Jim Palmer and Mickey Lolich, nurses a 1-0 lead into the sixth inning. That’s when Aaron, playing before his home crowd in Atlanta, hits a two-run homer. The NL wins, 4-3, in 10 innings on a Joe Morgan RBI single.

1974--In Ashland, Ore., to attend the Shakespeare Festival, I spend most days glued to the TV for the Watergate hearings. On the night of the All-Star game, I head to the theater, but only after watching most of the NL’s 7-2 win. Steve Garvey, who will win the MVP award that year, stars at bat and in the field. Teammate Mike Marshall, who will pitch in a record 106 games in relief and win the Cy Young award, finishes the game.

1979--My slow-pitch softball team has a game at Monterey High, but I watch or listen to some of the All-Star game. Lee Mazzilli ties the game with an eighth-inning homer and wins it when he draws a bases-loaded walk in the ninth. Dave Parker makes two game-saving throws for the NL in the late innings in a 7-6 victory.

1980--Married four months, and now a reporter for the San Francisco Examiner, I watch the game from the home we have rented in San Rafael. It is played in Dodger Stadium and the NL wins its ninth straight game, 4-2. Ken Griffey--the father, not the son--becomes the NL’s first baserunner with a fifth-inning homer. Fred Lynn homers for the AL. Dodger Jerry Reuss beats ex-Dodger Tommy John.

1983--We are on vacation in Washington state. Unbelievably, a dinner at a restaurant has been scheduled in Vancouver, Wash., on game night. I stall things for a while, long enough to see the Angels’ Lynn hit the first grand slam in All-Star history, off Atlee Hammaker. Lynn’s former Red Sox teammate Jim Rice homers as well as the AL wins, 13-3, to end an 11-game NL streak.

1984--I’m at Candlestick Park in San Francisco for the game, having bought two tickets by mail. My friend Bob, a newspaperman with the rival San Francisco Chronicle, and I are sitting high in the second deck in left-center. Fernando Valenzuela and Dwight Gooden strike out the side in consecutive innings, and Gary Carter and Dale Murphy hit home runs, helping the NL to a 3-1 victory.

1987--I am back in Monterey as city editor of the daily newspaper and my daughter is a few months old. This is perhaps the most boring All-Star game, a seemingly endless scoreless tie. Finally, in the top of the 13th, Tim Raines triples in two runs and the NL wins, 2-0.

1992--My Rotisserie League buddies and I gather for a game that disintegrates quickly. Tom Glavine gives up seven consecutive singles in the first inning as the AL takes a 4-0 lead. In all, the AL collects 19 hits, including homers by Ken Griffey--the son, not the father--and Ruben Sierra, and wins, 13-6. Most of my friends are long gone by then.

1994--Game day finds us in Miles, Wyo., after a day at the Little Bighorn, drinking in history. My family sets out from the motel for dinner and returns with Mexican food. I explain some of the nuances of baseball to my daughter, now 7. In a gripping game, the NL ties the game on a two-run home run by Fred McGriff in the bottom of the ninth, then wins, 8-7, on a single by Tony Gwynn and a double by Moises Alou in the 10th.

1997--Seven days after starting work as managing editor of the Toledo Blade, I plan to get home in plenty of time to watch the game. But a major legal ruling breaks and I spend the night editing detailed stories. Meanwhile, the game is barely noticeable on a TV on the city editor’s desk. The AL wins, 3-1, on Sandy Alomar’s two-run homer in the seventh inning in front of his home fans in Cleveland. Eight AL pitchers, including Randy Johnson and Roger Clemens, limit the NL to three hits, including a Javy Lopez homer.

2001--Here is the plan: Leave the office in time to miss the heaviest traffic on the 101 and head home. Hope the pregame hoopla in Seattle delays the first pitch. But, just in case, set the VCR, if I can figure out how it works.