Black and Blue: Sandy Koufax, the Robinson Boys, and the World Series That Stunned America
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"Richly layered....An entertaining and informative portrait of two underappreciated teams in an unforgettable time."--Boston Sunday Globe
The most surprising World Series ever? Many baseball fans would agree that it was the epic 1966 clash between the reigning champion Los Angeles Dodgers and the perennial underdog Baltimore Orioles.
The godlike Sandy Koufax had led the Dodgers to victory in two previous World Series, and had finished the season with twenty-seven wins, a personal best. Few outside
"Guaranteed to score a home run." -Essence
"Astonishing. . . . Adelman goes way past the box scores to get information that makes the players more human and the games more dramatic." -San Diego Union-Tribune
"Black and Blue delivers good baseball action, ownerly perfidy, and social context." -
titles. He’d been injured in a slide in the middle of the 1965 season, however, and his status remained uncertain. Likewise, their team captain, Maury Wills, had in 1965 come close to breaking his own stolen base record, until his legs had begun to give way, hemorrhaging from too many bruising slides and too much galloping overexertion. LA’s centerpiece, and biggest question mark, was Koufax. Time and again, almost reluctantly, “the Golden Arm” was called on to deliver in high-visibility games,
wanted to forget this game and start the second one.” 25 Instead, the game dragged on. When Robby came up for the second time in two innings, it seemed to Drysdale a recurring nightmare. Frank took another good cut. The ball didn’t travel as far this time. Tommy Davis gloved it for the third out. Frank felt just fine, aware that a 4–0 lead against the Dodgers was like a ten-run lead over any other club. “With their kind of attack, they can rally to make up two runs but if you lead by four, the
Los Angeles Times, nearly drowned and thoroughly drenched by one of Boog’s bucketfuls, was being dressed down for having called Baltimore “a fly-blown old strumpet of a city” and having written, “The only thing major league about the Orioles is their rightfielder.” 44 Paul Blair was dancing around the lockers, giggling and saying, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.” A glowing Hank Bauer was advising newsmen to go easy on the Dodgers. Surveying the bedlam, Humphrey spied the lithe Latin figure of
to adjust to the idea of a postseason contest—to catch their breath, raise their sights, and ready themselves for a fight. “By the time we flew all the way back from Philadelphia,” Ron Fairly recalled, in an assessment confirmed by most of his former teammates, “we were mentally done. We were whipped. I think there were eight or nine teams that could have beaten us. I’m not taking anything away from the Baltimore Orioles, because they had one heckuva club. But it was such a strain on us just to
Disaster,”Sporting News, October 29, 1966. 19. Charles Maher, “Willie: ‘If I Can See Them, I Can Catch Them,’”Los Angeles Times, October 7, 1966. 20. Tommy Davis, telephone conversation with author, December 2003. 21. Wes Parker, telephone conversation with author, October 2003. 22. Maher, “Willie.” 23. Ibid. 24. Sid Ziff, “Sad Day for Willie,”Los Angeles Times, October 7, 1966. 25. Ron Fairly, telephone conversation with author, October 2003. 26. Leavy, Sandy Koufax, p. 237.