GaryMrMets
09-29-2003, 04:34 PM
http://www.philly.com/mld/dailynews/6887220.htm
Posted on Mon, Sep. 29, 2003
Recovering McGraw tugs at our hearts
By PAUL HAGEN
hagenp@phillynews.com
Now that it's over, finally all over, there can be no question about what the greatest moment at Veterans Stadium was.
Tug McGraw, dog-tired, reaches back for one more fastball...Willie Wilson swings and misses...Tugger dances an Irish jig as he waits to be mobbed by his teammates...
That would have been true, no matter what. There have been countless great games and personal achievements at the old concrete remnant of a different place and time. There only has been one world championship celebrated on its plastic grass, in 1980, when the Phillies beat the Kansas City Royals for the first and only title in franchise history.
Because of McGraw's pivotal role in that moment, there always will be a special place for him in the sporting heart of Philadelphia. McGraw re-enacted that moment as the highlight of the ceremonies that commemorated the last game ever played at the Vet yesterday.
The fact that, for a few terrible days in spring training, after he was diagnosed with brain cancer, he wasn't expected to live to see the pomp and ceremony that surrounded the Vet's final weekend, added to the poignancy of his appearances this weekend.
On Saturday, he was introduced as a member of the All-Vet team, toured the warning track in an open convertible, basked in the warm cheers of a sellout crowd.
Yesterday, he was one of 67 alumni who took a final bow at the big bowl.
Some cheered the memory of the most significant out ever recorded on this particular patch of real estate. Others applauded his courage in fighting a life-threatening disease.
"I try to keep them separate," he said. "My illness isn't part of this. This would be happening even if I wasn't ill. So I try to keep it separate. However, that's pretty hard to do."
The surgical scar, a crescent moon on top of his skull, is clearly visible but his hair is starting to grow back. He looks good, all things considered. He has traveled a hard road these last 6 months and it isn't over yet.
His sense of humor is intact. He was asked if he ever doubted he would be part of the All-Vet team.
"In my mind? No doubt. I knew I was going to be on this team," he said.
Pause.
"And I didn't even vote."
Pause.
"I had my sons do that."
Standing nearby, Mark and Tim guffawed appreciatively.
He still gets a kick out of watching the tape of that Game 6 of the 1980 World Series, watching himself get that final out. "When I see it, I say, 'Yeah, I got him one more time. He's never going to hit that one,' " McGraw said.
"The 1980 team won the World Series. Where do you go from there? We hoped there would be another world championship, but there wasn't. So we have to live with the 1980 thing. Nobody else is ever going to win a World Series here. Nobody else is going to strike out Willie Wilson.
"Up until this week, we didn't know that moment was going to be the moment. Now we know. It would have been great to bow out with another world championship. But what are you going to do? So we'll take it."
At the same time, he said he didn't think about that pitch every time he comes to the Vet, didn't always look at the mound and remember that transcendent moment. As a result, he hasn't formulated an emotion to the whole idea that there will be no more games here, that the structure soon will come tumbling down.
"I won't know how I'm going to react until they push the button and I see the walls come down," he said. "I want to be there, but I don't want to be the one with my finger on the button."
It's the people, he indicated, not the steel and cement that touched him. "Bull [Greg Luzinski], [Garry] Maddox, [Larry] Bowa, Schmitty [Mike Schmidt], Lefty [Steve Carlton]," he said, indicating the lockers of his fellow All-Vet honorees. "Some of the greatest ballplayers ever. And we were all teammates."
Memories are forever. Buildings and people are not. Celebrating the past is fun. But that's just a diversion from the sometimes harsh realities of real life.
"Things are good. Things are real good," Tug said. "But I'm not out of the woods yet."
Posted on Mon, Sep. 29, 2003
Recovering McGraw tugs at our hearts
By PAUL HAGEN
hagenp@phillynews.com
Now that it's over, finally all over, there can be no question about what the greatest moment at Veterans Stadium was.
Tug McGraw, dog-tired, reaches back for one more fastball...Willie Wilson swings and misses...Tugger dances an Irish jig as he waits to be mobbed by his teammates...
That would have been true, no matter what. There have been countless great games and personal achievements at the old concrete remnant of a different place and time. There only has been one world championship celebrated on its plastic grass, in 1980, when the Phillies beat the Kansas City Royals for the first and only title in franchise history.
Because of McGraw's pivotal role in that moment, there always will be a special place for him in the sporting heart of Philadelphia. McGraw re-enacted that moment as the highlight of the ceremonies that commemorated the last game ever played at the Vet yesterday.
The fact that, for a few terrible days in spring training, after he was diagnosed with brain cancer, he wasn't expected to live to see the pomp and ceremony that surrounded the Vet's final weekend, added to the poignancy of his appearances this weekend.
On Saturday, he was introduced as a member of the All-Vet team, toured the warning track in an open convertible, basked in the warm cheers of a sellout crowd.
Yesterday, he was one of 67 alumni who took a final bow at the big bowl.
Some cheered the memory of the most significant out ever recorded on this particular patch of real estate. Others applauded his courage in fighting a life-threatening disease.
"I try to keep them separate," he said. "My illness isn't part of this. This would be happening even if I wasn't ill. So I try to keep it separate. However, that's pretty hard to do."
The surgical scar, a crescent moon on top of his skull, is clearly visible but his hair is starting to grow back. He looks good, all things considered. He has traveled a hard road these last 6 months and it isn't over yet.
His sense of humor is intact. He was asked if he ever doubted he would be part of the All-Vet team.
"In my mind? No doubt. I knew I was going to be on this team," he said.
Pause.
"And I didn't even vote."
Pause.
"I had my sons do that."
Standing nearby, Mark and Tim guffawed appreciatively.
He still gets a kick out of watching the tape of that Game 6 of the 1980 World Series, watching himself get that final out. "When I see it, I say, 'Yeah, I got him one more time. He's never going to hit that one,' " McGraw said.
"The 1980 team won the World Series. Where do you go from there? We hoped there would be another world championship, but there wasn't. So we have to live with the 1980 thing. Nobody else is ever going to win a World Series here. Nobody else is going to strike out Willie Wilson.
"Up until this week, we didn't know that moment was going to be the moment. Now we know. It would have been great to bow out with another world championship. But what are you going to do? So we'll take it."
At the same time, he said he didn't think about that pitch every time he comes to the Vet, didn't always look at the mound and remember that transcendent moment. As a result, he hasn't formulated an emotion to the whole idea that there will be no more games here, that the structure soon will come tumbling down.
"I won't know how I'm going to react until they push the button and I see the walls come down," he said. "I want to be there, but I don't want to be the one with my finger on the button."
It's the people, he indicated, not the steel and cement that touched him. "Bull [Greg Luzinski], [Garry] Maddox, [Larry] Bowa, Schmitty [Mike Schmidt], Lefty [Steve Carlton]," he said, indicating the lockers of his fellow All-Vet honorees. "Some of the greatest ballplayers ever. And we were all teammates."
Memories are forever. Buildings and people are not. Celebrating the past is fun. But that's just a diversion from the sometimes harsh realities of real life.
"Things are good. Things are real good," Tug said. "But I'm not out of the woods yet."