As sports fans, the best moments are always the triumphant ones — the celebratory parades, the gatherings at City Hall, the moment when a championship banner is raised high atop a stadium flagpole, high from an arena’s rafters. We are schooled, early, such moments are everything.
And are reminded, every once and again, they aren’t the only thing.
Every once and again there is an unexpected surprise awaiting us, even in the midst of a lost and perfectly forgettable season. And in their own way, they remind us about why we care so much about this stuff, why these games matter, in ways that even championship reveling can’t match.
It’s the unexpected that stays with us, after all. It’s seeing Joe Girardi send Derek Jeter and Andy Pettitte out to retrieve Mariano Rivera on his last night as the Yankees closer, even at the end of a lost game and a lost season. It’s Johan Santana throwing a no-hitter on gas, fumes, and muscle memory, even in the middle of a Mets season going nowhere.
Once, it was Joe Namath throwing for 496 yards and six touchdowns on the Colts and Johnny Unitas (376 yards, two TDs) when two going-nowhere teams collided at old Baltimore Memorial Stadium. It was Bernard King going for 60 on Christmas Day (and, later, for 50 in back-to-back Texas two-step games) during a Knicks season that ended 24-58.
Friday, it was Carmelo Anthony.
And, yes: It electrified the Garden, and the 19,812 who were fortunate enough to have been inside the building (so many of whom, undoubtedly, had asked themselves at least once Friday: “What the hell am I doing going to this game?”). But games like these, the unexpected gems, the better stories involve those who aren’t there, and still want to be a part of it.
That’s when texts fly furiously, when emails arrive with increasing urgency, when the need to find a TV becomes paramount.
Some of you know there was a time when I was especially frantic about having never witnessed a no-hitter. I am lucky enough to have a job where it’s not only OK to do things like speed to a baseball game after five no-hit innings, it’s encouraged. Over the years, I did that a few dozen times, to both The Bronx and Flushing. Never once, in those years, did I ever reach a press box with the no-no intact.
Until Santana’s gem, when everything broke just right: zero traffic on the bridges or the Grand Central, a deliberate pace to the game, Mike Baxter’s unfortunate (though gruesomely and time-consumingly helpful) crash into the fence and, lastly, David Freese swinging wildly at strike three.
It was with that history in mind that the great Chris Majkowski, the Mets radio producer/engineer, tweeted me Friday night: “Did you start driving when he got to 40?”
I wasn’t in position to do that, alas, but was in place to receive the first of a dozen texts from a friend — “U need to get to a TV” — even as I had to sheepishly explain I was following the game on my phone since the place I was at had two TVs — and was showing the Nets game and the Devils game.
We switched places soon. Six TVs this time. No Knicks game.
“Who in the world would want to watch the Knicks?” the bartender asked.
“Well, Carmelo has 51.”
I checked my phone. “Make that 54.” Another text. “Fifty-six.”
He switched the game. Talk ceased around the bar. Soon, every TV had the game on, so you could see him reach 60, then 62, though instead of the Garden ovation what you got was a thunderous saloon explosion. Which undoubtedly was repeated in hundreds of places at the same time.
A nice, unexpected surprise in Jersey, on Long Island, in Westchester, everywhere in the five boroughs. A little fun falling out of the sky.
Whack Back at Vac
Kevin Reilly: It’s a crying shame when you hear that Carmelo goes for 62 and you still have to wonder if the Knicks won the game.
Vac: Reminiscent of the caller to a New York paper in 1963 or so who asked, “How’d the Mets do?” Told they scored 19 runs against the Cubs he asked, “Did they win?”
Stewart Summers: Is it just me, or does it look like someone photo-shopped CC Sabathia’s head onto a picture of Dean Martin in a tuxedo?
Vac: When the moon-a hits your eye (instead of your stomach) like a big-a pizza pie … that’s how you look like that.
@Chris_G1989: Jason Bay also played well in Boston, so Stephen Drew really hasn’t proven he can play in big market — .253/13/67 is hardly a good offensive season.
@MikeVacc: If it’s my money, I still prefer those numbers to what Ruben Tejada’s likely will be, even if it seems that he’s limiting his intake of peach cobbler this winter.
John DiFazio: Is it just me, or does Ben McAdoo look exactly like you? Has anyone seen the two of you together?
Vac: Just wait till you see “his” signature play next year: a down-and-in at the third Chevy on the right.
Vac’s Whacks
- On the list — and it’s a long one — of all the things that need to be fixed with the Mets, the one that doesn’t need to be touched at all is their broadcast tandems. If WOR — and Jeff Wilpon — don’t realize that, that isn’t a good start to this brave new radio era.
- In New York City, our fatherly scribes had Runyons and our grandfatherly scribes had Toots Shor’s. As of this, we’ve had Foley’s (18 W. 33rd St.) for 10 years, and counting. And that’s splendid.
- You just can’t do network television any better, week in and week out, than “Parenthood.”
- Whoever introduced Archie and Olivia Manning has now officially cost the Patriots four championships.