October 21, 1975
If I write October 21, 1975, Major League Baseball fans, especially die-hard Boston Red Sox fans, will know what I'm talking about. That's right, I'm talking about that famous event at Fenway Park.
On that day, Game 6 of the World Series between the Boston Red Sox and the Cincinnati Reds took place at Fenway Park in Boston. ...That year's World Series was incredible, with 6 out of 7 games being comeback victories, and ultimately the Reds became World Champions with a 4-3 series win.
Game 6 was tied 6-6, and it was the bottom of the 12th inning, with the Red Sox at bat. Carlton Fisk, the leadoff batter of the inning, stepped up to the plate as a right-handed hitter. Fisk hit the second pitch, and the ball soared towards the left field foul pole. If it was fair, it would be a dramatic walk-off home run, but it might be foul. The image of batter Fisk in this uncertain situation has been passed down as a memorable moment.
Many people have written about this memorable scene. Here, I would like to introduce a passage from Roger Angell, a renowned sports writer whose work I greatly admire and read. It is a quote from "Agincourt and After," which is included in "Five Seasons: A Baseball Companion", published in 1977.
"―Fisk waving wildly, weaving and writhing and gyrating along the first-base line, as he wished the ball fair, forced it fair with his entire body."
There are two reasons why I have chosen this passage. First, something important is written immediately before it.
"I was watching the ball, of course, so I missed what everyone on television saw―."
In other words, the reason why Fisk's appearance became widely known as a memorable moment is thanks to television broadcasts. The spectators and reporters in the stadium, like Roger Angell, were probably looking in the direction the ball was going and didn't see Fisk.
Another reason, which may sound very presumptuous and rude, is that I don't think this description is very accurate. Didn't Roger Angell write this relying solely on having watched the footage just once—or perhaps only on accounts from people who had seen the live broadcast—since he didn't have the opportunity to watch the actual footage repeatedly?
But now I have the DVD of this famous moment and can watch it repeatedly while writing. So, here's how I wrote about the scene:
"Fisk, with his body still facing left field, began to advance towards first base, lightly jumping and vigorously swinging both arms at his chest about three times, gesturing for the ball to be fair. When he realized it was a home run, he turned towards first base, raised both hands above his head, and advanced while jumping in joy."
Don't you think my description and Roger Angell's are quite different? I'll leave it to you to decide which is more accurate. ...I repeat, I am aware that I am being presumptuous and disrespectful towards Roger Angell, whom I admire and respect. However, I have absolutely no intention of disparaging Roger Angell. I hope you understand that much. Also, as a Japanese person with limited English skills, I may not have correctly grasped or understood Roger Angell's writing. If so, I will immediately correct this column.
My main point is that legendary scenes in Major League Baseball, which are talked about for so long, cannot be created without television footage. I think this will probably never change. Of course, the thrill of watching a game live at the ballpark offers a wonderful experience distinct from watching on TV; yet, I believe there are times when one might miss witnessing a legendary moment in real time—much like Roger Angell, who missed seeing Carlton Fisk in action.
By the way, there's one more thing I want to say about Game 6 of the 1975 World Series...
My life and the World Series have never strangely intersected. However, something like that did happen to a fairly famous person, a character in an American movie.
The American film "Good Will Hunting" (1997). It's one of my favorite movies. Above all, the screenplay is superb. A young, unknown Matt Damon wrote the initial draft, and the screenplay, completed with his close friend Ben Affleck, is truly outstanding.
This film centers on the interaction between a young man (played by Matt Damon himself) with a genius-level talent for mathematics but who lives a troubled life unable to escape childhood trauma, and a middle-aged psychologist (played by Robin Williams) who is at the depths of despair after the death of his beloved wife.
Now, there is a scene in their conversation where Game 6 of the 1975 World Series comes up. It is the moment the psychologist tells the young man about meeting his beloved wife...
The psychologist—who was still a young man back in 1975—had secured tickets for the game and was waiting for it to start at a bar near the stadium with some friends, but he decided to skip the match after spotting a beautiful woman. That woman would go on to become his beloved wife; in other words, he had picked up a beautiful stranger.
What do you think of this episode? I find it unnatural. This is because the psychologist is portrayed as a sensitive and well-mannered person. Such a person would understand that, no matter how beautiful a stranger is, it's considered normal for a man to consider them unrelated and walk away without speaking to them. ... Perhaps I'm just bound by old-fashioned ideas. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all—and when people fall in love, they often act in ways you'd never expect based on their usual behavior.
(If I've made a mistake or left out something important, please let me know. I'll try to make corrections or additions.)