The Sweet Taste of Revenge

"The Cards in seven!" read the postcard tacked to the wall of the St. Louis locker room. "Hell," said Cardinal First Baseman Bill White. "I wanted to win this thing in six games." But White knew better than to argue with Fifi LaTour and her Oriental advisers. "Fifi," he said solemnly, "is always right." Well, almost. Old Stripper Fifi, the Cardinals' favorite fortuneteller, did predict that St. Louis would win the National League pennant -- on the last day of the 1964 season. Of course, she also predicted that the Cards would need only five games to demolish the New York Yankees. But no baseball player is going to knock a .500 batting average -- let alone .750. And last week Fifi made it three-for-four, as the gritty Cardinals humbled the heavily favored Yankees in the World Series, four games to three.

The Dirtiest Trick. The humiliation was total -- because the Yanks had no excuse. They outscored the Cardinals 33 to 32, outslugged them ten home runs to five. Outfielder Mickey Mantle clouted three homers to run his Series record to 18 (the old mark: 15, set by Babe Ruth); Bobby Richardson clicked out 13 hits to break a 39-year-old mark. Cardinal pitchers had an earned-run average of 4.29 (v. 3.77 for the Yanks), and Star Reliever Barney Schultz staggered through the Series with an ERA of 18. But St. Louis won--and with the most exciting display of guts, guile and footwork since the old Gashouse Gang of the 1930s.

"The way those guys round first," groaned Mantle, "you'd think they were all trying out for the Olympics." Bewildered by the Cards' blazing base running, the usually gilt-gloved Yankees committed nine official errors--plus a dozen more that sympathetic scorers overlooked. Second Baseman Richardson nervously bobbled two easy double-play grounders; Catcher Elston Howard let three passed balls sail by and wailed: "I never did anything like that before." And poor Mickey Mantle--four times he threw wildly to the infield. Twice in one game he was caught off base. "The dirtiest trick I've ever seen in baseball," Mickey groused, after Cardinal Shortstop Dick Groat lulled him off second with a joke, then zipped around, took a throw and tagged him out. Naughty, indeed, but it saved a run--and the Cardinals in the fourth game. Trailing 3-0 at the time, the Cards quickly added injury to insult on Ken Boyer's grand-slam homer, won 4-3, and evened the Series at two games apiece. "I feel terrible about the whole thing," grinned Groat.

Now! Sorry. It was like that down to the end--the Yanks grim and seething with pressure, the Cards loose, enjoying it all, and ever so apologetic for the liberties they took. In the fifth game, the Yankees got nothing from Cardinal Speedballer Bob Gibson but Ks (12) and goose eggs (8) until Tom Tresh tied the score with a two-run homer in the ninth inning. Now! cried Yankee fans. Sorry, said Cardinal Catcher Tim McCarver, powdering a three-run homer that put it away 5-2 in the tenth. "I was just trying to hit a sacrifice fly," he explained.

Back to St. Louis went the Cardinals, to a tumultuous welcome at the airport, a sellout crowd at Busch Stadium ("Spell that Bush," growled one Yankee)--and the biggest collection of noisemakers and freon horns ever assembled west of the Mississippi. But the Yankees still had to be shown, jumped on five Cardinal pitchers for ten hits and an 8-3 victory. Once again the Series was all even, and now everything--$8,400 for the winners, $5,200 for the losers--was riding on the seventh game.

Practically in the Pink. Cards Manager Johnny Keane had just the pitcher: Righthander Gibson, 28, a tall, handsome Negro who had 1) a bruised hip, 2) a swollen ankle, 3) a sore arm, and 4) only two days of rest. In other words, Gibson was practically in the pink. "He was born sick," recalls his mother, "and he got sicker. He had rickets, hay fever, asthma, pneumonia and a rheumatic heart. I hardly let him out of the house until he was four years old."

Yogi Berra's pitcher, Rookie Sensation Mel Stottlemyre, had nothing wrong with him that a good defense could not have cured. In the fourth inning, the roof fell in. A single, a walk, a nifty double steal, bad throws by Shortstop Phil Linz, Second Baseman Richardson and Outfielder Mantle, and the score was 3-0, Cardinals. Out went Stottlemyre; in came Reliever Al Downing, who threw four pitches, one of them a ball. The others: a homer, a single, a double. Out went Downing; in came Rollie Sheldon, etc., etc.

With a 6-0 lead, Gibson was unbeatable. He fired practically nothing but fastballs ("If they hit it, they hit it. If they don't, they don't") at the frenziedly swinging Yanks who tried everything--even throwing bats his way. Striking out nine, Gibson kept things barely interesting by feeding gopher balls to Mantle, Linz and Clete Boyer. Then with an eye for irony, he persuaded Bobby Richardson, the Yankees' leading hitter, to pop up for the last out. By a score of 7-5, the St. Louis Cardinals had their first world championship in 18 years. Pitcher Gibson had a new series record of 31 strikeouts, his second complete-game victory in four days, and the Corvette sportscar that goes to the Most Valuable Player in the World Series.

There was only one postscript to be added. Into Owner Gussie Busch's office next day walked Johnny Keane, the Redbirds' manager, a veteran of 35 years in the Cardinal organization, and the man who as much as anyone made it all possible. For Keane, victory had a special flavor--the taste of revenge. A month before, the Cards were six games back of first place, and he was merely running out his time; Busch had already lined up Leo Durocher for the job. Now Keane could write his own ticket. He did. Handing Owner Busch an envelope, he said: "Please don't offer me a contract. I have decided to resign."

Keane might not have to look very far for work. Back in Manhattan, the Yankees announced that Yogi Berra has been fired as manager. Who was the frontrunner for Yogi's job? Johnny Keane.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.