Electric October by Kevin Cook

Author:Kevin Cook
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

CHAPTER 13

The Robbery

Joe DiMaggio swung and the ball took off like a bullet. With two out in the sixth, the Dodgers were clinging to a three-run lead. Substitute outfielder Al Gionfriddo put his head down and took off after it. He got a quick jump on the ball but it looked a mile off, climbing toward the left-field bleachers while tens of thousands of Yankees fans cheered it on its way.

DiMaggio’s blast marked another decision point in a World Series fat with them. The Times would call Game Six one of the most extraordinary ever played—right up there with Games Four and Five. A homer off DiMaggio’s long, heavy Louisville Slugger would tie another nail-biter that had reporters racking their noggins for adjectives they hadn’t used yesterday and the day before that.

Gionfriddo was fast but there were limits. He couldn’t hurdle the gate to the Yankee bullpen, where the ball was headed, to grab it before it started bouncing around in there. All he could do was turn his back to the plate and run.

* * *

Earlier that day, bleacher fan Joseph Smith and 74,064 others filled the arena Red Barber described as “vast, menacing, flag-draped, triple-decked Yankee Stadium.” The throng broke the all-time attendance record the Game One crowd had set. Brooklyn fans endured a barrage of Bronx cheers from the Yankee faithful. Some carried copies of the Brooklyn Eagle with its reassuring headlines CALM YOURSELVES! and WE’LL TIE IT UP AGAIN. Not far from Smith sat a thirteen-year-old from Yonkers, David Halberstam, who would grow up to write several of the century’s most important books. “It was October 5, 1947, and I was in the Yankee Stadium bleachers,” he remembered. Young Halberstam’s ticket cost only $4; the average ticket price was $5.31.

Shotton made the first move on this sunny Sunday, selecting left-hander Vic Lombardi over Ralph Branca to make his second start of the Series. Branca, the team’s ace, was getting tired of being jerked around. The manager’s choice made no sense to him or to most of the Dodgers, but Lombardi made old Burt look prescient by sailing through the first two innings.

In the third, back-to-back doubles by Jackie Robinson and Dixie Walker helped give Brooklyn a 4–0 lead, chasing Allie Reynolds to the showers. Then the empire struck back. Catcher Sherm Lollar, starting again while Yogi Berra cooled his heels on the bench, doubled. Lombardi wild-pitched him to third. Third baseman Spider Jorgensen then booted Snuffy Stirnweiss’s grounder, and Lollar scored the Yanks’ first run. Shotton did his damnedest to look calm while squeezing the life out of a rolled-up scorecard. Errors gave him indigestion. Handing a club like the Yankees an extra out was asking for trouble. Sure enough, the next five batters went single, single, single, single, single. Lombardi allowed the first three and got a quick hook for it. In came tall, gaunt Branca, looking as jolly as an undertaker. He gave up the next two singles and the score was 4–4.

Maybe Brooklyn was bound to lose.

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