Yesterday afternoon I was reminded of a great moment in sports and yesterday evening I witnessed one.
Hania, reading on her phone after lunch, asked me if I’d ever heard of Willis Reed, then informed that he had died at the age of 80. My mind immediately traveled back to May 8, 1970, game 7 of the NBA finals, the New York Knicks versus the Los Angeles Lakers, east versus west – then seeing the injured Reed, who had missed game 6, walk stoically, defiantly onto the court at Madison Garden.
Then last night I caught the end of the World Baseball Classic – Japan versus the U.S.A., East versus West – which came down to the two greatest players in the game, Shohei Ohtani and Mike Trout, men who are normally teammates, for the Los Angeles Angels, facing each other in a winner-take-all duel, Ohtani on the mound trying to protect a 3-2 lead, Trout hoping to send the game into extra innings with a shot into the stands. Ohtani had walked the first batter – nerves? was it possible? – but then got the second to hit into an easy double play. Now he was up against one of the greatest hitters the game has ever known. Aaron Sorkin could not have written a better script. And, in front of a standing crowd at LoanDepot Park, the great Mike Trout went down swinging.
