Think about it. New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago benefit from six generations of uninterrupted baseball. Pittsburgh, St. Louis, Cleveland, Detroit—the list goes on. Atlanta, Los Angeles and Houston have had half a century or more to build a following: fathers and sons, parents and kids. Alas, Washington was without baseball thirty-four years. In 1971, the expansion Senators left for Texas; in 2005, the Montreal Expos became the Nationals. A beautiful ballpark revived a decrepit area of the city, which now resembles Wrigleyville in Chicago.

For 33 years, aging fans of the old Nats were unable to take sons and daughters out to the ball game. Now the old spirit is back—with the ultimate boost for generations to come. The improbable Nats have won the World Series. (And that’s the second greatest thing about 2019.)

Why baseball is unique

It’s a funny old game. Football, basketball can be exciting, at least when the score is close. By comparison they are repetitive exercises, and a clock decides when a game is over. “Pass, run, pass, punt,” a football fan once complained of the rote play-by-play he sees often. “Mostly, you know what’s coming. Or you can surmise.”

Not baseball. Here there is no clock. Games finish after nine innings—or more (the record is 33) if the score is tied. You never know what’s coming. Weird things happen—things nobody’s seen before. The 2019 Nats proved that, didn’t they?

Whoever saw a World Series shortstop like Trea Turner beat out a throw, only to be called out for interference and running outside the designated lane? To see his manager thrown out of an elimination game for his irate reaction? No, we never saw anything like it. But next year, we’ll see something new again.

A lot was different in 2019. Did anybody expect a team that lost thirty-one of its first fifty games to make the playoffs? Who thought the road team would win all seven games? Who believed that a post-season team, facing elimination in five games, would come back to win all five? Is it conceivable to rally to take the lead three times in the eighth inning, twice in the seventh? To rack up most of your runs in the late innings? Unbelievable.

Nats World Championships: both in the top ten

In terms of excitement, both Washington World Series wins loom large.  Chris Landers of MLB.com ranked all forty occurrences of Game 7 over 115 years. In baseball history, this is an excellent if arguable listing. (By the way, Landers’ number one is Pirates-Yankees in 1960. That was the only one to end in a walk-off home run. Nobody saw that before or since, either.)

To my delight, Landers ranks Washington’s Game 7 World Series victories as #5 and #8 out of forty. The comparisons between them are uncanny. Here are his summaries:

Ranking 5th: 1924, Washington Senators 4, New York Giants 3

“Four games in this Series were decided by one run, and Game 7 was the tightest of them all. It is still the longest Game 7 in World Series history at 12 innings. After seventeen years in Washington, the only thing missing from Walter Johnson‘s sterling resume was a World Series title. He’d struggled in his first two starts of the Series, but when the Senators rallied to tie the game with two runs in the bottom of the eighth, the Big Train got another chance—and he made sure he took advantage of it. Coming out of the bullpen to start the ninth, Johnson threw four shutout innings, keeping the Giants at bay. Earl McNeely finally ended it with a walk-off double to left.”

That was an amazing game for its quirks of fate, as mentioned in my previous piece, “God is a Nats Fan.” Trailing 3-1 in the eighth, a Bucky Harris  grounder hit a pebble, and bounced over the Giants’ Freddie Lindstrom, scoring two and tying the game. In the 12th inning, after “Barney” Johnson set the Giants down for four innings, McNeely hit another grounder to third that took another bad hop for a double. Muddy Ruel scored the winning run. On its 90th anniversary, the Library of Congress posted rare footage of this game online.

Chris Landers continues…

Ranking 8th: 2019, Washington Nationals 6, Houston Astros 2

“The final score wound up looking fairly innocuous. There were no walk-off heroics. The ninth inning was largely free of suspense. But years from now, I have a hunch that I’ll still be telling anyone who will listen about how Washington lost Bryce Harper only to exorcise its post-season demons. About how Juan Soto turned the World Series into his own backyard and then took over the world. How Max Scherzer couldn’t even put a shirt over his head two days prior, then ground through five innings against possibly the best offense ever. About how one of the most improbable rallies in post-season history was punctuated by two grown professional athletes [Howie Kendrick and Adam Eaton] pretending to drive sports cars the way you did in your bedroom when you were seven.”

Max Scherzer as the new Barney? Like Johnson ninety-five years ago, he labored all the way. In the first inning we heard him grunt with every pitch—not something you usually hear until late innings. Frequently falling behind, his formidable slider often missed. Not your usual Max. But he hung in, kept us close for five innings. And then—again like 1924—another starting pitcher came on in relief to save the day. In 1924 Johnson set down New York for four innings. In 2019, Patrick Corbin shut down Houston for three.

Close comparisons

• The 1924 Nats lost 26 of their first fifty games (.480) and were sixth in an eight-team league. 2019’s Nats lost 31 of their first fifty games (.380) and were fourth in a five-team division.

• The 1924 Nats then went 68-36 (.653), finishing only two games up on the Yankees. In 2019 the Nats then went 74-38 (.661), finishing four games behind the Braves but taking the Wild Card from the Brewers.

• In post-season 1924, the 4 Nats were 4-3, and twice avoided elimination. For post-season 2019, the Nats were 12-5, and avoided elimination five times.

• Counting the post-season, the ’24 Senators were 96-55 (.571), the 2019 Nationals 105-74 (.587).

• In the World Series, the 1924 Nats scored 26 runs, eighteen (69%) in the fifth inning or later. The 2019 Nats scored 33 runs, 27 (82%) in the fifth inning or later.

What do we make of all this? Both teams were underdogs from the get-go. Early on, the 1924 Senators were leading only Cleveland and Philadelphia; the 2019 Nationals were leading only Miami. Nearing the finish in 1924, experts were predicting the Yankees, even the Tigers, would beat Washington to the pennant. The mighty Giants were heavy favorites in the World Series. In 2019, the 106-win Dodgers looked certain to win the pennant, and the World Series would likely go to them, or the 103-win Yankees, or the 107-win Astros.

MVPs

Three 1924 pitchers, Johnson, Tom Zachary and  George Mogridge, were the big game winners.  Nats bats back then were led by the great Goose Goslin, notably in Game 4, who went 4-for-4 with a home run, three singles and four RBIs. Johnson, along with Senators batters Harris, Goslin, Joe Judge, Heinie Manush and Sam Rice, are all in the Baseball Hall of Fame. “Mr. Clutch” awards went to Harris, Muddy Ruel and Earl McNeely. Except for Johnson, most are only remembered in the history books. It’s ninety-five years ago, for heaven’s sake!

Now kids have their own heroes. Scherzer, Stephen Strasburg, Patrick Corbin and Anibal Sanchez were a potent quartet of starting pitchers, before and after the season. Juan Soto and Anthony Rendon must together be the powerhouse equivalents of Judge and Goslin. Guys who starred in the clutch—Eaton, Kurt Suzuki, Ryan Zimmerman and above all the now-almost-immortal Howie Kendrick, will forever be remembered.

Lest we forget: general manager Mike Rizzo, manager Martinez. And two of the best coaches a team could have, Paul Menhart (pitching) and Kevin Long (hitting). Bob Carpenter and F.P. Santangelo were our faithful announcers all year. (Why don’t the big networks hire home broadcasters who know the teams best? Let’s fix this!)

The future is Ryan’s

Seven-year-old Ryan Ritz, DC resident and already a veteran Nats fan, stood up in the midst of Game 7: “I’m going to bed. Every time I stay up, they lose.” Ryan and his family had the luck to attend Game 3—and lose they did.

On Wednesday night Ryan toddled off just before Anthony Rendon hit that first momentum-changing home run. Followed by Howie’s tremendous drive that clanged against the right-field foul post and put us ahead for keeps.

Ryan, take it from someone who’s been watching and grieving over Washington baseball so long you can’t imagine. Don’t do that again! Anything can happen. It’s baseball. Game on!

Yankee Stadium, 1958

When Washington was in town, the drill was always the same: 15¢ for a bus to the Staten Island Ferry. A nickel ferry ride and 15¢ more for the BMT to Woodlawn and Jerome Avenues. As the subway erupted into sunlight from the bowels of the Bronx, this kid wearing his navy blue hat with its white “W” would confront the Citadel of Baseball, proud and austere with its eagle logos, bristling with pennants. The House That Ruth Built was home to the team I rooted against.

Through the turnstiles, down dark alleyways smelling of beer and cigars, and suddenly you’d burst upon this hallowed expanse of green. In the outfield were memorials to The Babe, Lou Gehrig and Miller Huggins. Billy Crystal once quipped, “I thought they were buried there!” All us kids thought that.

Ninety cents got you into the bleachers, but general admission cost only $1.30. From there, after a couple innings, you could sneak into an empty $2.50 reserved seat or, if attendance was light, a $3.50 box. Now and then the visiting Senators would get ahead, and scary Bronx voices would holler: “Hey kid — the Washington section’s in the bleachers!”

Why the Nats?

Don’t get me wrong. All us New York kids backed a home team. But in those days we had three choices, and I chose the National League Giants. The sure-winner Yankees were too easy to root for. When I discovered baseball, they were all-dominant, winning five straight pennants and World Series from 1949 to 1953. The Evil Empire, even then! I preferred underdogs.

I looked around for an American League rival, and my eye fell upon the Washington Senators. (Officially they were the Nationals until 1956, and everybody called them the Nats.) I liked their uniform with the big navy blue “W.” Why not? In the early Fifties the Nats were good, but not great. Decent pitching, light hitting.

Once in July 1952, we found ourselves only five games behind the Yanks. Manager Bucky Harris was interviewed: “Could you guys actually win the pennant?” Bucky laughed, but I was euphoric. Maybe! Alas, we finished fifth at 78-76—the original Senators’ last over-.500 season. After 1960 they moved to Minnesota and became the Twins. An expansion team took their place, and when I lived in central Pennsylvania I drove to a few games. They had only one winning season, and after 1971 they hied to Texas to become the Rangers. Bummer.

Better Than You Think

Long before then, this kid with his “W” hat had memorized Washington baseball’s great days. And there were many. In the decade 1924–33, the Senators, Yankees, and Philadelphia Athletics owned the American League. They won every pennant—three, four, and three respectively.

In 1924, the Nats won a seven-game World Series—improbably. Trailing 3-1 in the eighth, player-manager Bucky Harris smashed a grounder to third. It hit a pebble, deflecting over the Giants’ Freddie Lindstrom. Washington scored two and tied the game. Next Bucky brought in the aging veteran, Walter Johnson, “The Big Train,” baseball’s greatest pitcher. Walter pitched four scoreless innings against the formidable Giants.

In the bottom of the 12th, Nats catcher Muddy Ruel rifled a double. Johnson (who usually hit for himself) reached first on an error. Incredibly—impossibly—Earl McNeely came up and hit another grounder to third that took another bad hop over Lindstrom and Ruel lumbered home! I’m sure it hit the same pebble — because God put it there, and as everyone knows, God is a Nats fan.

Making History

The Senators won pennants in 1925 and 1933, but lost both of those Series. In ’25 they blew a three-games-to-one lead to the Pittsburgh Pirates. In ’33 the Giants took revenge, winning handily, four games to one.

Had the 2019 Nationals wound up playing the Yankees, it would have been a “rubber” World Series matchup between Washington and New York. But between different teams from opposite leagues, since franchises have changed, and moved. Business arrangements mean nothing to Washington fans. Above Nationals Park, we’ve always flown our three pennants, and now there’ll be another one flying beside them.

The Senators nearly won their fourth pennant in 1945 and were mostly respectable thereafter. Until 1955, when they finished last—likewise in 1957–59. This earned them the sobriquet “First in War, First in Peace, and Last in the American League.” That’s not really fair. They were better than that.

Nats – talgia

As life unfolded, I drifted from baseball, especially after the Giants fled to Frisco and the expansion Senators flopped. Once, in the Eighties, I tuned in a game, only to find a guy batting who didn’t play the field, called a “Designated Hitter.” What is that? I wondered. Evidently a consolation prize for expired roosters who can’t field but still can hit, to thrill a few fans with leftover home runs. Sacrilege!

In my opinion, the DH ruins the game. Excusing pitchers from hitting removes key strategy decisions—when to pinch-hit or bunt. As a result, bunting is almost a lost art. Even in my beloved National League, I fume as I watch professional hitters square away before the pitch, giving away the element of surprise that is the essence of a good bunt.

Then, suddenly, in 2005, Washington had a baseball team again—complete with the Sixties curly “W” logo and again called the Nationals. Now they were in the National League, where pitchers still bat. Nostalgia drew me back. Avidly I watched them play .500 baseball that first year — the same as they did in 1953 for old Bucky Harris.

Everybody knows the rest of the story. It took years of trying—frustrating years, including four when we never got past a division series. It took a hellish, Senators-like performance last April and May that left us 19-31 after the first 50 games. Everybody was saying, “It’s over—again.” It took one of the most impossible comebacks since the New York Giants surged from 13 1/2 games behind to wrest a pennant from the Dodgers in 1951. Guess what? In 2019 the Nationals whupped those Dodgers again!

Field of Dreams

Winning the pennant for the first time in 86 years was mainly about stepping up. All our guys did: brilliant starts, solid relief, fine fielding, clutch hitting from the most formidable offense Washington has seen since the 1930s. Bless them all, from fans old and new, who prayed for this moment.

High above in their Field of Dreams, old Senators must be intoxicated. Player-manager-owner Clark Griffith, the “Old Fox,” who raised the team from cellar to championship, is envying today’s owner, Mark Lerner. Isn’t Max Scherzer, who also hits well, the pitcher equivalent of Walter Johnson — who likewise hit for himself? Aren’t our starters Stephen Strasburg, Anibal Sanchez, and Patrick Corbin the counterparts of Camilo Pascual, Pedro Ramos, and Connie Marrero? Yes, all those greats were at one time Washington hurlers.

Is Howie Kendrick’s 2019 bat the equal of Tris Speaker’s in 1927? Aren’t shortstop Trea Turner’s glove and bat as good as those of Joe Cronin? Behind the plate, who needs to choose between Rick Ferrell and Kurt Suzuki, between Muddy Ruel and Yan Gomes?

Anthony Rendon at third fields as well and hits much harder than the Senators’ “Walking Man,” Eddie Yost. And what outfielders! Juan Soto, Victor Robles, Adam Eaton, and Michael A. Taylor could be the counterparts of Sam Rice, Heinie Manush, and Goose Goslin — or, to put a more modern spin on it, of Roy Sievers, Harmon Killebrew, and Frank Howard.

What a season this has been: reviving old memories, creating new ones we’ll never forget. And now, please excuse me. I’m going to sneak into Minute Maid Park and plant a pebble on the third-base line — just in case.

Dedication

To the memory of Charles Krauthammer, who I know is tuned in. (Left: Daniel and Charles at Nationals Park, a family photo.)

2019 World Series:

Scroll to comments below for banter among Nats fanatics as the fourth Washington World Series unfolds.

“He threw everything toward the plate but the ball.” —Ted Williams

Conrado Eugenio Marrero, the oldest living major league baseball player, celebrated his 102nd birthday in Havana on April 25, 2013 with one of his patented cigars. Connie passed away just short of his 103rd birthday on April 23, 2014.

Connie Marrero pitched 735 innings for the Washington Senators in 1950-54, compiling a W-L record of 39-40. He was named to the 1951 All-Star team but did not play. He left after being scratched from the 1955 roster. (Well, by then he was 43!) He continued playing Cuban ball and was a baseball coach there into his 80s.

His best year was 1952, when he went 11-8 with a 2.88 ERA for the 78-76 Senators, known for good pitching and light hitting. Born in Sagua La Grande, Cuba, he didn’t play his first game in the majors until the age of 38. He was brought up by Senators owner Clark Griffith’s scout, Papa Joe Cambria, who specialized in plumbing Cuba for low-budget players.

Marrero loved to recall facing off against greats like Mickey Mantle and Willliams. The Huffington Post quoted him: “One day Williams got two home runs off me, and afterward he came up to me and said `Sorry, it was my day today.’ I responded, ‘Ted, every day is your day.'”

Marrero stood only 5’5″ but putting on his Senators uniform with its big blue block W “always made me feel bigger, more powerful.” And beating the Yankees was the sweetest feeling in the world: “They were strong. They were the best. Each batter was a struggle.”

From Tom Deveaux’s The Washington Senators 1901-1971:

Manager Bucky Harris was hardly enamored with the rotund Marrero at first sight in 1950…just another one of Joe Cambria’s projects destined to flop. Hardly blessed with a deep roster, however, Bucky, who’d envisaged Marrero as at least a relief possibility, ended up using him primarily as a starter.

No less a hitter than Ted Williams became an admirer of Connie….Hitters would be salivating, anxious to get a crack at his knuckler, but once Marrero got ahead of you, Williams said, you were dead.

After Marrero struck out Williams with the bases loaded at Fenway Park, it became obvious that all was well with Marrero and Harris. Connie walked off the field, proudly plopped his glove in Harris’s lap, and proclaimed, “More money now.”

Marrero, who lived very modestly, was eligible for $20,000 granted him by a 2011 agreement between Major League Baseball and the Players’ Association for financial aid to 1947-79 players who did not qualify for a pension. But the money was held up by the U.S. economic embargo, which made financial transactions difficult.