40 Years Ago … On Top Of The World

October 14th, 2020

A homegrown nucleus of Bob Boone, Larry Bowa, Mike Schmidt, Greg Luzinski, Larry Christenson and Rand Lerch, along with trade acquisitions lefty Steve Carlton, Ron Reed, Tug McGraw and Garry Maddox, were the core of a Phillies team that won division titles from 1976-78, only to fail to win the pennant.

Could this club win it all or should GM Paul Owens break it up? With Dallas Green in the dugout, "The Pope" wanted to give the club one more chance.

It certainly wasn’t a picnic. Dallas screamed and yelled at the players, benched veterans and played rookies like Lonnie Smith and Keith Moreland. Another rookie, Bob Walk, was in the rotation. Come September, Marty Bystrom was plugged into the rotation and went 5-0 the final month. Players and media were at odds at time, as were the players and Dallas. 

Bouncing around between second and third place, they finally grabbed the lead on July 12. It lasted one day. In early August, they lost a four-game series to the Pirates in Pittsburgh to fall a season-worst six games behind. Dallas had a classic airing-out session between games of a doubleheader loss. Media waited outside the clubhouse to gain access, but were treated to Dallas’ tirade. His voice can carry through cement.

The club responded, going 13-6 before losing the last two games at the end of the month in San Diego. Owens couldn’t take any more of the lackadaisical play. Before a Sept. 1 day game in San Francisco, he called a clubhouse meeting and unloaded a profanity-filled outburst, challenging players. Four straight wins followed, putting them on top again.

With the second-place Montreal in town for the last home weekend series, the Expos won two of three to take a half-game lead with seven games left. A four-game series with the Cubs followed.

Then, the most pivotal game of the season, in my opinion. On a Monday night before a small crowd of 21,000, the Phillies fell behind, 5-3, when the Cubs scored twice in the top of the 15th inning. What fans were still there had turned nasty. We rallied to win, 6-5, by scoring three runs in our 15th with Maddox scoring on Manny Trillo's dramatic game-winning hit, the start of a six-game winning streak at the most critical time of the pennant race.

In second place, a half-game behind the Expos, we went to Montreal for the final three games. Schmidt, who was often criticized for not hitting in the clutch, drove in both runs of a 2-1 Friday win. Then, he followed with a two-run, game-winning homer on Saturday that clinched the NL East. Andy Musser, broadcasting on radio, had his greatest call, “He buried it.”

In extra-inning games the final month, they were now 5-0. Those pressure-packed games primed them for what was to follow.

Greatest NLCS Series Ever

The NLCS against Houston will forever be remembered as the most gut-wrenching series ever. The last four games of the five-game series went extra innings, with the Phillies winning the last two in the deafening Astrodome.  

Down two games to one, a fourth failure at advancing to the World Series in the last five years appeared to be inevitable. Down, 2-0, after seven innings in Game 4, the Phillies scored three to take a 3-2 lead, only to see Houston tie it in the bottom of the ninth. Two runs in the 10th produced a 5-3 win that sent both clubs to a decisive game.

Game on Oct. 12: After the Phillies chased Nolan Ryan with five runs in the top of the eighth, the Astros tied the game in their eighth to force extra innings for the fourth straight game. Maddox’s RBI double in the top of the 10th won the 8‑7 thriller. 

World Series

The World Series wasn’t as gut-wrenching as the Astros series. Pete Rose had said the World Series would be a piece of cake compared to the NLCS. 

Leading, 3-2, we returned home with Lefty on the mound. A good feeling, but it is never over until it’s over.

After eight innings, Chris Wheeler and I headed for our clubhouse, which was to open immediately if we won. Media can enter the clubhouse from the dugout tunnel or the main entrance off the service level concourse. Wheels was stationed at the tunnel entrance and I was at the other door, keeping the photographers at bay until the game was over.

A wooden platform was set up in the middle of the clubhouse for the trophy presentation. If we lost the game, all that had to be removed, quickly. We’re leading going into the bottom of the ninth. Wheels and I are watching on a tiny black-and-white TV monitor on the platform.

When Rose caught the ball that popped out of Bob Boone’s glove for the second out, I looked at Wheels, “There’s no way we’re going to lose now.” We could hear the roar of the crowd when Tug got the final out. For the record, it was 11:29 p.m. on Oct. 21 when we were World Series champions for the first time. 

The scar of 1964 tortured generations of Phillies fans until 1980. Bowa said it best, “The Ghost of 1964 is dead.”

Then, there was the parade. It was breath-taking to see the masses of millions that lined Center City and Broad Street. Fans were everywhere, even in the trees and on top of traffic light poles. The smiles on people’s faces will never be forgotten.  

To top it off, 100,000 were packed into JFK Stadium for the final ceremonies, a scene that would never be duplicated. It was a huge love fest. Fans were we so happy because they, too, were World Series champions.

The 40th anniversary was scheduled for the Toyota Alumni Weekend in August. COVID-19 changed all that. Nothing can take away being on top of the World in 1980.