Reggie, Reggie, Reggie

By Sal Maiorana

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Sal Maiorana, a friend of the site, shares some of his thoughts on the Yankees.

For Sal's complete analysis on the New York Yankees, you can subscribe to Sal Maiorana's free Pinstripe People Newsletter at https://salmaiorana.beehiiv.com/subscribe.

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NEW YORK (Oct. 18, 1977) - Reggie Jackson sat on the bench in the Yankees dugout, his chest heaving as he struggled to get air in and out of his lungs. He had just hit his third home run in three pitches off a third different Los Angeles pitcher, a Ruthian shot – or was it a Jacksonian shot? – into Yankee Stadium’s rarely reached black seats beyond center field, and hyperventilation was setting in.

Jackson sat there, his eyes ablaze, his head spinning. When he came to realize that a television camera was trained on him, he mouthed the words, “Hi mom” and then before he knew it, he was being pushed by his teammates up the dugout steps so he could bow to the 56,407 delirious worshipers who were creating a deafening din with their chanting of his name – “Reg-gie, Reg-gie, Reg-gie.”

His Yankee teammates had been pushing him all year. Pushing him away in their reluctance to accept him as a teammate. Pushing him to tears. Pushing him to frustration. Pushing him ever closer to insanity. The pushing never stopped, and now they were pushing him again. But it was this last push that provided a most ironic twist to this most extraordinary of Yankee seasons.

This was a push Jackson deserved. This was a push into the spotlight which he so craved, the same spotlight that had been the root of his troubles all year within the turbulent Yankee clubhouse.

The Yankees knew Jackson’s reputation as a verbose, egomaniac who spoke of “the magnitude of me” and how he was “the straw that stirs the drink” and how he “put the fannies in the seats” and that “I didn’t come to New York to be a star, I brought my star with me.”

But when his star arrived with $2.96 million of George Steinbrenner’s dollars bulging from his wallet and an edict from the owner of the Yankees to deliver a championship, the Yankees really didn’t know Jackson. All they knew was what they had heard, and that was enough to convince them they weren’t going to like him.

They liked him plenty on this night - Game 6 of the 1977 World Series - as he delivered an electrifying performance that will forever stand the test of time. He brought all those fans out of all those seats, and in so doing, he put diamond championship rings on the fingers of those skeptical teammates.

Jackson’s three home runs catapulted the Yankees to an 8-4 victory over the Dodgers that in turn brought the Yankees their first World Series championship since 1962.

“It was probably the greatest single-game performance I’ve ever seen,” said third baseman Graig Nettles, one of Jackson’s harshest critics. “It was amazing. It gave me chills when he hit that third one.”

Steve Garvey, the first baseman of the Dodgers, was equally awed and he admitted, “When Reggie hit his third home run, and I was sure nobody was looking, I was applauding in my glove. Reggie rose to the occasion. I think he released a lot of emotional tension from the season in one game. I’m sure now he has peace of mind.”

Right there, in the House That Ruth Built, Jackson did something only Ruth had ever done. In both the 1926 and 1928 Series’ Ruth hit three home runs in one game. Something Ruth never did, though, was hit home runs in four consecutive official at-bats – Jackson homered in his last plate appearance of Game 5 and then walked in his first in Game 6. And Ruth never hit five home runs in one World Series as Jackson did in 1977.

This night did not begin well for the Yankees. Mike Torrez – who was pressed into starting duty when it was determined, controversially of course, that Ed Figueroa was unfit to pitch – yielded two runs in the top of the first when Garvey lashed a two-run triple into the right-field corner.

New York drew even when Jackson drew his walk in the second inning and then trotted home on Chris Chambliss’ two-run homer off Burt Hooton.

Reggie Smith hit a solo home run in the third to put the Dodgers back on top, but then Jackson took center stage and never exited. Following a single by Thurman Munson in the fourth, Jackson creamed a flat Hooton fastball into the right-field stands to give the Yankees the lead for good.

“There’s more where that came from” Jackson had told Willie Randolph following his pyrotechnic display during batting practice when he sent about 20 souvenirs into the stands.

“I was still in batting practice, that’s how I felt,” Jackson said of the first home run.

Later in the fourth, Chambliss wound up with a double when his blooper to left fell safely, and he scored eventually on a sacrifice fly by Lou Piniella that increased New York’s lead to 5-3.

Then in the fifth, Jackson ripped an Elias Sosa fastball over the right-field fence for a two-run homer to make it 7-3, and the Bronx began to sense not only victory, but history.

“I stood there next to the plate watching (Sosa) warm up and I was thinking, ‘Please, God, let him hurry up and finish warming up so I don’t lose this feeling I have,’” Jackson recalled. “He threw me a fastball right down Broadway. I call those mattress pitches because if you’re feeling right you can lay over them. That was the hardest ball I hit all night.”

Hard to believe when you consider that in the eighth, Jackson sent a Charlie Hough floater on a 420-foot journey that had Howard Cosell bellowing on the ABC broadcast, talking over everyone as he was wont to do.

“I just wanted Charlie Hough to throw me one knuckleball,” Jackson said. “I had nothing to lose. Even if I struck out, I had nothing to lose. Hough threw me a knuckler; it didn’t knuckle.”

The celebration raged all around him, champagne spraying like the mist that comes off Niagara Falls. Even Billy Martin, Jackson’s year-long antagonist, could only say, “Reggie? He was sensational.”

“Perhaps for one night I reached back and achieved that level of the overrated superstar,” Jackson said. “I’m also happy for George Steinbrenner, whose neck was stuck out further than mine. There were times that this season was just too much for me.”