The Dream Season: 1988 World Series Champion Los Angeles Dodgers

As a child, my one baseball dream was to be at a World Series game in which my team was trailing in the bottom of the ninth, when the hero hits a three-ball, two-strike pitch for a home run to achieve the eternal victory.

Sometimes, dreams come true.

The 1988 Los Angeles Dodgers season was one of the most magical, rivaling the 1969 New York Mets. Interestingly, both teams succeeded using the same formula: overpowering pitching, a classic National League style offense of timely hitting, opportunistic baserunning and a whole lot of luck.

After winning the 1985 Western division championship, the Dodgers became lethargic and frustrated. Neither the 1986 nor 1987 team finished with a winning record. The games were dull; attendance sagged. Great for me, though, who never had a problem finding an isolated spot in the left field pavilion to write my book.

The Dodgers needed a jolt. I knew who was best suited for the job.

Following the 1986 season, my friend Paul and I maintained a friendly, on-going argument. Tim Raines, of the Montreal Expos, and Kirk Gibson, of the Detroit Tigers, were free agents. Both were leaders of their teams and stars in their leagues.

Paul was convinced the Dodgers should sign Raines for his speed and fielding skills. Raines also was a superb hitter, who beat Dodger second baseman Steve Sax to win the 1986 National League batting championship by .002 percentage points. I was adamant about the Dodgers signing Gibson because he would make Saxy a better player. My friend believed Gibson got hurt too often, making him a probable liability.

However, the argument became moot when Major League Baseball owners, in protest of skyrocketing salaries, collectively refused to sign free agents following the 1986 season. So, Gibson returned to Detroit. As the Dodgers struggled, he led the Tigers to the 1987 American League Eastern division title.

After being accused of collusion, and fearing revocation of their cherished anti-trust exemption, owners resumed free agent bidding following the 1987 season.

My hope sprung eternal.

On January 29, 1988, Saxy's 28th birthday, my wish was granted: the Dodgers announced Gibson had been signed. I was certain they would win the World Series, and told anyone who would listen. Suffice it to say, reactions were cynical, at best.

The Dodgers began spring training with a renewed spirit...and a stark warning. As a practical joke, relief pitcher Jesse Orosco put shoe polish on the lining of Gibson's cap, then left it in his locker. Gibson later grabbed his cap and jogged onto the field. After donning it, he discovered the prank and stormed off the field. All was forgiven after his stringent lecture about the essential need for a work ethic and maintaining a serious attitude.

THAT was the guy the Dodgers needed.

During the first spring training game, against the Chunichi Dragons, Saxy hit a grand slam. Another sign? I hoped so. I thought so.

As the season began, I was polishing the essays composing my book. My soul brother and devoted Ron Santo fan, Lee, traveled from Chicago to L.A. for our first Sax & Santo League game at Dodger Stadium. He already knew I was dedicating my book to him. Now, 17 years after our first Sax & Santo League game, the Dodgers were the home team. The Cubs were in Atlanta..

Los Angeles opened the season against the San Francisco Giants on a glorious day. We sat in my usual spot in the left field pavilion, two sections from the Dodger bullpen. Fernando Valenzuela retired the Giants quickly to start the game. Saxy, leading off for the Dodgers, slammed Dave Righetti's first pitch of the season into the box seats, near the left field foul pole. Lee and I were stunned.

"We're going to the World Series!"

The Giants won the game, 5-1, but the magic had been captured. Sax & Santo League Game No. 2 at Dodger Stadium provided the second omen. Orel Hershiser shut out the Giants, 5-0, surrendering only three hits. It was his first of 19 shut outs that season. Ultimately, Hershiser would pursue and surpass Don Drysdale's streak of 58 2/3 scoreless innings, a record many thought never would be broken.

The Dodgers entered the mid-July All-Star break in first place, with 48 wins and 36 losses, two and one-half games ahead of the Giants. A rainout during an earlier series in May forced the opening game to be rescheduled as a doubleheader. I bravely sat in the right field bleachers wearing my Sax jersey, which often acted as a suit of armor while writing the most painful portions of my book.

As the second game meandered, a middle aged, inebriated woman asked why I was wearing a Dodger jersey in Cubbyville. I told her we were going to win the World Series.

"Who is we?" she asked.

"We, as in the Los Angeles Dodgers, Inc. and their loyal supporters," I replied.

She wasn't convinced. Lee echoed her skepticism. I reminded him the Dodgers would send me a letter thanking me for being such a wonderful fan and insist we I buy two tickets to the World Series. Got a lot of groans from fans listening to the conversation.

The Dodgers won both games, 1-0 and 6-3.

The third game of the series featured Fernando and Greg Maddux pitching a classic duel on a steamy day. Exuberant Cub fans were certain their beloved team would win after the previous day's debacle. Chicagoans are so naive. The Dodgers won, 3-2, in 10 innings.

Never underestimate the power of the big Dodger in the sky.

Then during the fourth game, another strange event occurred. My pre-season request for bleacher tickets to that game had been denied by the Cubs ticket office due to high demand. No problem. A heavy rainstorm roared through Chicago during the eighth inning of a 2-2 tie. Although lights had been installed, Cub team officials refused to use them until the official opening night, 8/8/88.

Umpires decided the persistent drizzle, slick grass and pending darkness created unsafe conditions. So, the game was declared a rainout. All statistics became official, but the game would be replayed in its entirety as part of another doubleheader.

Guess who had tickets to that one!

The Dodgers again won both games, 4-1 and 5-2, to complete a rare five-game sweep. Suddenly, my Sax jersey, which had provoked some good natured ribbing from drunken Cub fans, became an unwelcome guest at the party.

In early September, I entered the Dodgers post-season ticket lottery. And then, the big Dodgers in the executive suite sent me THAT letter, thanking me for being a devoted fan and insisting I buy two tickets to Game Seven of the National League Championship Series.

NOT HAPPY! I've got to root, root, root for Saxy to lose three times so my wish can be granted? And no one failed to remind me the Eastern division champion Mets won 11 of the 12 games the two teams played during the season.

Fortunately, my grandmother received a voucher for the first game. Yeah, it was a relief--until the Mets won the game on a ninth inning rally.

A few weeks after receiving the letter, I was eternally blessed again by the big Dodger in the sky. A lottery voucher, addressed to me, was for two tickets to Game One of the World Series! Can you believe it? Me neither. Now I knew a World Championship was the Dodgers' destiny. Still, no one believed me. Whatever. None of them could differentiate between red and yellow brick roads.

An ad from New York Newsday, appearing in the Los Angeles Times,, riled Dodger fans as the NLCS began. (Both papers were owned by Times Mirror.) A caricature of a Dodger with a hole in his mitt, created by a line drive, accompanied the caption, "The Dodgers are history. Go Mets". So, the Times responded, albeit with a more tame ad: "New York's about to get the blues. Go Dodgers".

After the first game loss, L.A. took an early lead over Mets starter David Cone and won Game Two, 6-3. Then the series moved to New York, where a Mets win in Game Three was noteworthy due to Dodger star reliever Jay Howell being ejected by umpires for using pine tar on his mitt. The Mets were poised to assume a 3-1 game in the series as they led Game Four, 4-2, in the ninth inning.

But Saxy's best friend, Mike Scioscia, captured the series momentum with a surprise two-run home run. With two out in the top of the 12th inning, Gibson hit a home run into right field. With two out in the bottom of the 12th, Hershiser got Kevin McReynolds to pop out to center. The Dodgers won, 5-4. Since a day game followed the marathon, both teams only caught a few hours sleep. Didn't bother the Dodgers, flying on auto-pilot momentum. Gibson hit two more home runs to give the Dodgers a 7-4 win and three games to two series lead.

Despite having tickets to Game Seven, I yearned for the Dodgers to win Game Six. Why take unnecessary risk when nirvana beckons? They didn't, instead getting snowed by Cone, creating the dream setting of watching Saxy win the seventh game of the NLCS. To me, only the score, not the winner, was in doubt. Fortunately, drama was non-existent. The Dodgers scored five runs in the second inning on some comical Mets fielding lapses, winning the pennant, 6-0.

I was going to Saxy play in the World Series. Sigmund Freud never experienced such wish fulfillment.

Although nothing could taint attending a World Series game, Lee was unable to use his ticket. Instead, he watched on television while tending bar at a local Chicago pub. So, my usual L.A. baseball buddy and I were seated in the left field pavilion. We had arrived early and parked outside the stadium lot so traffic wouldn't mar the experience.

Dodger Stadium looked magnificent. I just sat and watched: the people; the players; the scoreboard with ATHLETICS as the visiting team. It was a novelty in the years before interleague play. The players for both teams were announced individually, acknowledging the crowd as they sprinted to the base lines. Then it began.

After Dodger pitcher Tim Belcher escaped an Oakland first inning threat, Saxy was hit by a pitch to start the offense. Then, Lee's favorite Dodger, Mickey Hatcher, popped a two-run home run into the left pavilion section in which we spent Opening Day. Dodgers 2, Oakland 0. Heaven on earth...

...until the second inning, when Oakland rightfielder Jose Canseco slugged a grand slam that hit the centerfield NBC camera, one section from my seat, giving the Athletics a lead it would hold into the ninth inning.

In the sixth, Saxy's buddies, Mike Marshall and Scioscia cut the lead to 4-3. With one out, Marshall singled to right field. After John Shelby singled to center, Scioscia hit an opposite field single to left, scoring Marshall.

Then, the drama leading to one of the most amazing moments in baseball history unfolded.

Athletics' star relief pitcher, Dennis Eckersley, left the crowd poised for a certain loss after getting two quick outs. Then, despite masterful control all season, he walked pinch hitter Mike Davis. Anticipation. Suddenly, Gibson emerged from the dugout wearing a batting helmet and swinging bats, renewing hope among the now rabid crowd.

The drama was agonizing. After falling behind, no balls and two strikes, Gibson worked the count to three and two.

This was actually happening, if...

As Gibson fouled each pitch, I kept glancing alternately at the batter's count posted on the giant right field scoreboard and Saxy standing in the on-deck circle. All I could think was that I wrote my book as a tribute to him, and this is where it got me.

As the parade of foul balls continued, Davis stole second base. A single would tie the game, giving Saxy a chance to get the game winning hit.

And then a moment so surreal occurred it still feels like a dream. Gibson golfed a low inside slider. The ball sailed in slow motion over the field, into the right field pavilion. For a fleeting moment, I worried that Pamela Ewing again had fallen asleep and ex-husband Bobby was still dead.

The roar in the stadium was deafening. My scorecard is my prize.

NBC broadcaster Vin Scully quipped: "I've said it once before...that Kirk Gibson was not the most valuable player; that the most valuable player was Tinkerbell. But tonight I think Tinkerbell backed off for Kirk Gibson."

And, to think, people actually left after the second out in the ninth inning to beat the traffic.

The Dodgers ultimately won the World Series in five games. Those fruits of victory sure taste sweet.

So, I was right. Gibson did make Saxy a better player. In fact, one month after the World Series, Steve, a free agent, signed a lucrative contract with the New York Yankees. I got what I needed from him, and Gibson, as well. Both taught me the meaning of mental toughness and team unity.

Welcome to my world, Kirk. And congratulations for becoming a bona fide baseball legend. You gave one abused kid the thrill of a lifetime. If I was an employer who was certain why I wanted to hire you instead of a fan who knew you'd enhance a baseball team, I'd have given you a mammoth raise.

As it is, I guess my admiration must suffice.