Recently, mlb.com began offering a waycool new feature: for $3.95 (US), you can download a complete baseball game and watch it on your own computer. Most of the games are recent, but there's a few blasts from the past on there, including the now-legendary Game 6 of the 1975 World Series. Recently, I watched the entire game, and took a few notes.
- It didn't take me long to notice that, contrary to popular belief, the strike zone wasn't much different in 1975. Admittedly, it was a small sample size, but umpire Satch Davidson wasn't calling strikes above the belt. If there is a difference between the 1975 zone and the 2000 (pre-edict) zone, it must be in the width - the Glavine Clause wasn't in effect back then.
- One thing that struck me about the crowd watching the game was the almost complete absence of replica caps, jerseys, shirts, warmup jackets, etc. A modern-day baseball fan often comes to the park wearing something in team colours or bearing the team logo - Cardinal games, in particular, are always played in front of a bright red backdrop. I think I might have been able to spot a few caps in the 1975 crowd, but not many.
- When a new pitcher came into the game, four cameras were trained on him and displayed all at once, giving the viewer an opportunity to view his pitching motion from all angles. I don't know why or when split screens went out of fashion, but I thought this was kind of cool.
- In modern-day broadcasts, the pitch is always shot from the centre-field camera, so you can get to watch the expression on the hitter's face as he swings. In 1975, this wasn't standard. Sometimes, the pitcher's delivery was viewed from centre field, sometimes from behind home plate, and sometimes, disconcertingly, from the third base dugout. While I think the centre field shot is the best, I kind of liked the view from behind home plate. It's interesting to see what a pitch looks like from the batter's point of view. (My usual reaction was, "Thank God I don't have to face that.")
- Watching Luis Tiant pitch was worth the $3.95 all by itself. He sometimes throws sidearm, and sometimes overhand. Sometimes, he twists his back in mid-delivery. Occasionally, he pauses before releasing the ball. The Boston fans, who had been given the privilege of watching Luis for many years, were so into his delivery that they would applaud him in mid-motion, like figure-skating fans who have just witnessed an impressive triple lutz. (Roger Angell's article on the 1975 World Series attempts to name some of Tiant's pitching motions, including the Fall Off The Fence, the Low-Flying Plane, and the Call The Osteopath.) I hope that MLB eventually offers one of his earlier starts in that series, when he was at his best - in Game 6, Tiant was roughed up in the later innings.
- The biggest difference between modern baseball and 1975 baseball is the physiques of the athletes. Modern athletes spend a lot of time in the weight room building up baseball-related muscles; as a consequence, they are broader-shouldered and more "ripped" than ordinary mortals. In 1975, hardly anybody ever went near a training room, which meant that athletes were more ordinary-looking (though clearly healthier and stronger than us mere mortals). I now think that specialized weight training has led to baseball's offensive explosion in the 1990's.
- George Foster's at-bats took forever. Foster liked to step out of the box to throw off the pitcher's timing; he would walk a few paces off, and then saunter back into the box. (My guess is that he never tried this against Bob Gibson.) In the 10th inning, he and Dick Drago got into a waiting contest. First, Foster stepped out. Then, when he got back in, Drago paused on the mound to try to throw Foster off. Foster then stepped out again. Finally, after all the gamemanship was complete, Foster swung at the first pitch and was retired. What an anti-climax.
- The bottom of the ninth provided second-guessers with a ripe opportunity to question some on-field decisions. The scenario: the Sox had the bases loaded with nobody out. A fly ball was hit down the left field line. George Foster caught it in foul territory and threw out Denny Doyle, who was trying to score on a sacrifice fly. Both Foster and Doyle were second-guessed at the time. Should Foster have let the ball drop? Should Doyle have stayed put, knowing that he was likely to score when the bases were loaded with one out? After watching the play, I'd say that both players got it right. Foster, obviously, caught the ball and got the runner, so he is credited with a correct decision. And Doyle can't be blamed for his choice: the fly ball was deep enough to require a perfect throw to get the runner. Nine times out of ten, the runner scores; it was Doyle's bad luck that Foster's throw was dead on the money.
- Boston manager Darrell Johnson was nicknamed "Old Stone Face", and you could see why. When Bernie Carbo tied the game with a dramatic pinch-hit three-run home run, and all of Fenway Park was going completely crazy with joy, Johnson didn't move or even crack a smile. How can you remain so unemotional without going postal?
- Good lord, Roger Moret was thin.
- When did bullpen carts go out of fashion? In Game 6, relief pitchers were transported from the bullpen to the mound in a cutesy little cart whose roof was a stylized Sox cap. At some point, they stopped doing that.
- Third-base coach Don Zimmer didn't look much different then than he does today. It took me a moment to realize that Zimmer then was in his early 40's - the 1975 Zim had the same body shape as the 2003 Zim.
- When Carlton Fisk hit his game-winning home run in the 12th, many fans charged onto the field to congratulate the Sox catcher. I don't know when this stopped becoming commonplace, but it's a good thing that it did.
Anyway, it was a fun three and a half hours, and I recommend it to anyone with a high-speed connection.
https://www.battersbox.ca/article.php?story=20031213090049999