Bobby Jones' grand slam, Muhammad Ali's win over Sonny Liston, and Roger Bannister's four-minute mile were named this year among the 20 greatest individual athletic achievements. Alongside them in Forbes Magazine's rundown, stood a journeyman baseball player whose unremarkable career could be easily forgotten, but for one perfect day in 1956.
Don Larsen was born in Michigan City, Indiana in 1929. Well over six-feet tall and more than 220 pounds, he was a big, powerful athlete who could both bat and pitch. He spent 1951 and 1952 playing baseball for the U.S. military in Hawaii, where some claimed he was the best service player since World War II.
In 1953, Larsen signed a professional contract with the St. Louis Browns as a pitcher. It would be a baptism of fire. Following the Browns' move to Baltimore, where they became the Orioles, he endured one of the worst pitching seasons in history, losing 21 of the 23 games he started.
Rumor spread that his late-night antics were to blame. He was known as "night rider" and "gooney bird" amongst teammates, and had a fearsome reputation for heavy drinking. "The only thing he fears is sleep," joked Orioles coach Jimmy Dykes. In November 1954, Baltimore offloaded Larsen to the New York Yankees as a fairly inconsequential part of a large multi-player trade. It would prove a pivotal moment in his career.
The mid-'50s New York Yankees were a genuine sporting dynasty. Babe Ruth and Joe DiMaggio had gone, but a new generation of stars was driving the Bronx Bombers through the most successful period in their history. Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, and Whitey Ford were destined for baseball's Hall of Fame.
After just a few months on their roster, Yankees manager Casey Stengel became frustrated with Larsen's playboy lifestyle and shipped him out to Denver on loan. He returned to Yankee Stadium later that year, however, and helped the Bombers win the American League pennant.
In the penultimate game of that 1955 season, Larsen had a pitching revelation. He realized that by removing the elaborate wind-up in his delivery, he could release the ball earlier and upset a batter's rhythm. "The ghouls sent me a message," he said, and his trademark "no wind-up" release was born. It would soon grace the biggest stage.
The 1956 World Series brought together the New York Yankees and the Brooklyn Dodgers. It was the sixth time in 10 years that the Big Apple rivals had played for the championship. These so-called "Subway Series" had been dominated by the Yankees. The pinstripes had won four of the five previous meetings, taking their haul to 16 titles since the inception of World Series in 1903.
In 1955, however, "Dem Bums" had broken the Yankees stronghold, winning the decisive game in the best-of-seven series, and taking the trophy to Ebbets Field for the first time. The re-match in 1956 was set up to be a firecracker.
Larsen started the second game, but his new technique seemed ineffective. The rampant Dodgers scored four runs in less than two innings. After surrendering a 6-0 lead, the Yankees lost 13-8 and went 2-0 behind in the best-of-seven series.
He was left wondering if he'd get another chance to pitch, but the pinstripes clawed their way back to 2-2 and he was asked by Stengel to start Game 5. He would be up against Sal Maglie, a right-hander nearing the end of his career, who had helped the Dodgers win Game 1.
Larsen started well, striking out all three Dodgers batters in the first innings. The second inning followed a similar pattern, although this time he owed much to a slice of luck and some brilliant fielding from Gil McDonald; the Yankees shortstop caught a wildly deflected drive from Jackie Robinson, before unleashing a lightning throw to run him out. It seemed the omens were with Larsen. "By such good fortune is immortality granted," wrote Dave Kindred of The Sporting News.
In the fourth inning, Mickey Mantle's home run gave the Yankees a 2-0 lead. Larsen continued to strike out batter after batter, and by the eighth inning the Dodgers remained scoreless. Gil Hodge's cracked a line drive, but third baseman Andy Carey threw out a glove and again the ball stuck.
With just one inning left, Larsen was on the verge of becoming the first player in World Series history to pitch an entire game without allowing a single player on base. In baseball terminology, this is known as a perfect game. The tension was unbearable. "My legs were rubbery," recalls Larsen. "My fingers didn't feel like they belonged to me. I said to myself, please help me somebody."
Larsen's teammates seemed equally edgy. "Nobody would talk to me," he said afterwards, "nobody would sit by me, like I had the plague."
As Dale Mitchell walked out to the plate at the bottom of the ninth, he was all that separated Larsen from legend. The veteran left-hander let the first ball through for strike one. He swung and missed at the second; strike two. As Larsen threw his 97th pitch of the day, he stood one strike from glory. Mitchell shaped to swing, but at the last minute withdrew his bat. Strike three and the perfect game was complete.
Yankees catcher Yogi Berra was first to congratulate him. "Larsen caught Berra in mid-air," wrote legendary sports writer Shirley Povich of the Washington Post, "as one would catch a frolicking child, and that's how they made their way toward the Yankee bench, Larsen carrying Berra."
Larsen seemed dazed, as if he couldn't quite believe what had happened. "When it was over, I was so happy, I felt like crying," he said, "I wanted to win this one for Casey (Stengel). After what I did in Brooklyn, he could have forgotten about me and who would blame him? But he gave me another chance and I'm grateful."
"The million-to-one shot came in," read Povich's report. "Hell froze over. A month of Sundays hit the calendar. Don Larsen today pitched a no-hit, no-run, no-man-reach-first game in a World Series."
The Yankees took the game 2-0 and went on to win their 17th championship that year, but nothing would overshadow Larsen's performance. Almost overnight, this underachieving pitcher, more famous for his late nights than strikes, had become one of the most famous sportsmen in America.
In the following months, he signed endorsements worth over $30,000, and appeared on the legendary Bob Hope television show. He even received a personal letter from President Dwight D. Eisenhower. "This note brings you my sincere congratulations on a memorable feat," it read, "one that will inspire pitchers for a long time."
In contrast to his perfect game, Larsen's overall career was marked by mediocrity. Throughout his 14 years in the major leagues, he won only 81 of his 172 starts. His career ERA, or earned run average, was expensive at 3.78 runs per nine innings. This compares to Whitey Ford's far more economical 2.74. Seldom has a professional athlete reached such a singular peak amidst an otherwise unremarkable career.
Long-jumper Bob Beamon is possibly the athlete who can most relate in this respect. His record-breaking jump of 29 feet 2 1/2 inches in the 1968 Mexico Olympics was just as unexpected, and proved almost as hard to beat. Like Larsen, Beamon has garnered a lifetime of plaudits for just one day's work. He would never jump over 27 feet again.
But perhaps by concentrating on what Larsen and Beamon didn't achieve in terms of longevity, we're missing the point. After all, maybe they had all the enjoyment of their performances, without ever feeling the pressures of being expected to deliver them.
One wonders how many Hall of Fame pitchers would give up their impressive career stats to experience being Don Larsen on that cool night in the Bronx. Or how many hardworking professional footballers would do the same for a breathtaking run of goals on the biggest stage there is.
In reflection, even Larsen himself can see flaws in his career, but nothing will ever take his perfect game away. "Hey, I gave it my best shot," he said, "and I tried and I wish my record had been better, but I was very pleased to get into the World Series and pitch the perfect game. And I guess that is what I will always be remembered for."
After leaving the Yankees in 1959, Larsen enjoyed only moderate success, the highlight being his 1962 season with the San Francisco Giants. That year he led them to the National League pennant, before they fell to the mighty Yankees in the World Series.
Don Larsen never made the baseball Hall of Fame; nor has his numbered jersey been retired by the Yankees to hang alongside those of Mantle, Berra, and Whitey Ford. Nonetheless, his remarkable performance on Monday, October 8th, 1956 will forever grace the record books. "They can never break my record," he said once, "the best they can do is tie it."
He remains the only player to pitch a perfect game outside of the regular season. There have been seventeen official perfect games in the history of the sport, but never in the playoffs or beyond. As Yogi Berra explained, through one of his famed "Yogisms", "it's never happened in the World Series competition, and it still hasn't."
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