Aside from allowing Skowron's solo homer in the fifth, which made the score 4-1, Law had frozen the Yankees' bats. Unable to push off on his injured foot, he had to draw on his arm as his only source of power. "I'd more or less fall toward the plate and make up the difference with my arm," Law says. "In doing that, I learned later, I tore my rotator cuff."
Murtaugh came to the mound in the sixth, after Law had given up a single to Richardson and had walked shortstop Tony Kubek on a full count. Murtaugh was ready to bring in Face, but Law didn't want to leave the game. "Skip, I feel O.K.," he said. But Murtaugh just shook his head. Hoak came in from third as Law, his head down, stood on the mound waiting.
"Look here, Deacon," said Hoak. "You walk off this mound, you hold your head up! You've done a good job."
Face's fourth Series appearance came at the end of a season in which he had pitched in a National League-leading 68 games, and he was tired and not at his sharpest. After Mantle rolled a single through the box, scoring Richardson, Berra golfed a towering shot down the foul line toward the upper deck in rightfield. It looked to Berra as if the ball might hook foul. As it flew past the pole, a three-run homer, Richardson saw the stoical Berra do something he'd never seen him do. "Halfway between home and first, he was jumping up and down," Richardson recalls. "Boy, was he happy to hit that ball!"
The Yankees mobbed him. Now they were ahead 5-4, and they finally had the measure of Elroy Face. When they scored twice more off Face in the eighth, the Yankees led 7-4 and were looking like winners yet again.
Then came the most bizarre half-inning of the Series. Cimoli led off by clipping Shantz for a dinky single to short right. Skowron and Cimoli had played on the same all-star team when they were teenagers, and as Cimoli stood on first base, Skowron needled him about the dinker: "Jeez, Gino, did you eat any breakfast today? Hit the ball!" The next batter, Virdon, slashed a low grounder toward the rocky Forbes infield at short. It was heading right at Kubek for an easy double play, and Virdon shouted, "Oh, s—!" But when the ball struck the dirt, it rose suddenly like a high-kicking tennis serve and struck Kubek in the Adam's apple. Kubek fell backward, holding his throat. Cimoli stopped at second, and time was called. Stengel ran over to Kubek and tried to break up the crowd gathering around him. "Stand back!" he yelled. "Give him room. He'll be all right."
Cimoli drifted over. "He started to choke; he was gasping for air," he says of Kubek.
Skowron watched the shortstop gag. "He was coughing up blood," he says.
Richardson heard Kubek gasp, "Get me to the hospital. I can't breathe." When Kubek was taken off the field, the crowd gave him a standing O. It was not much consolation to the Yankees. Instead of two outs and nobody on, the Pirates had two on and nobody out. Then, after Groat had lined a single to left, scoring Cimoli, Stengel made another fateful move. With no one out, men on first and second and New York leading 7-5, the situation called for the batter, Skinner, to bunt. But Stengel had another hunch, and though Shantz could field anything—"Bobby was probably the greatest fielding pitcher in the history of baseball," says Brown—the manager lifted him for Coates.
The Pirates were euphoric. " Bobby Shantz had dazzled us," Groat says.