No league playoffs. No divisions. No wild cards. No designated hitter. No primetime. You listened to the radio at school, if the Latin teacher didn't mind. Game 7 was on Oct. 12, or 19 days before it's scheduled this year.

The pitcher who started Game 7 for the Boston Red Sox was named Jim Lonborg. He had thrown a three-hitter in Game 5. He was back on two days' rest.

WORLD SERIES

• World Series interactive multimedia • Photo gallery • AP World Series coverage

No one asked the Boston manager what he had been drinking. No one trotted out dire statistics of what pitchers do on short rest.

Lonborg lost. Bob Gibson won, making the St. Louis Cardinals champions, his third complete-game victory. He pitched 27 innings in nine days. No one was particularly surprised. Closers weren't invented yet.

World Series 1967. The last time we saw what we're about to see now.

Deja Vu

Things were not so different then.

The Red Sox were wondering if they would ever win a World Series again. It had seemed like forever. Forty-nine years. What was this, a curse?

They had home field advantage in the World Series. Fenway Park was already venerable.

Baseball's hold on the masses was suspect. Many people preferred the NFL on television. But these two cities were capitals of fervent baseball lands. They worshiped their Red Sox in Hartford and New Bedford and Manchester. Just like they cherished their Cardinals in Jefferson City and Carbondale and Burlington.

A World Series touched something deep. The players felt it, too.

Things are not so different now.

"When you have an opportunity to go to a World Series, you don't take it for granted," St. Louis' Scott Rolen was saying late Thursday. "You look at it and you realize how fortunate you are, as a player, and as a human being, and as a team and a father and a husband, and everything else.

"I mean, this is what we did in the backyard."

Dogfight

So much has happened since. The Red Sox have bounced from seven-game losses in 1967 to 1975 to 1986, with Bucky Dent and Aaron Boone added in. Their faithful has gone from frustration to neurosis.

St. Louis won in 1982, but that was 22 years ago, which feels like 96 years to the red army that pours in each game.

But here they are together again, and one place ends its waiting. It is hard to choose, now as then. Between the teams, or their cities.

They both have scary lineups, with weaponry top to bottom. Each brings the best batting average in its league, something the World Series has not seen in 29 years.

"It's going to be a dogfight," Boston closer Keith Foulke said Friday.

And the best baseball town? They come in two flavors. The fiery hunger of Boston, or the unconditional compassion of St. Louis.

But they know what they want, and that no matter the recent heroics, a bad ending just won't do.

"I think I appreciate where we are," Boston manager Terry Francona said. "The task at hand is all that's on our mind because the task isn't over. When it's over, we can sit back and think about a lot of things, and I'm sure that will bring a smile to my face. Not yet. Not even close yet."

The manager in the other office understands.

"It's time for both (team's) fans to be selfish and both teams to be selfish," said Tony La Russa. "They want to win for all of their reasons, but we have a clubhouse full of guys that have never had a World Series ring."

Thirty-seven years later, they meet again. Two cities that understand what a World Series is all about, especially losing one.

Return to Reds front page...