Ah, How Great It Is

The '27 Yankees have been acclaimed for many years as baseball's finest team, but there is a diminishing number of those who can testify through personal experience to its greatness. Memories grow cloudy; soon only the stats, the loyal numbers, will remain. All things are relative, though, and this team played nearly a half-century ago, before night games, artificial turf, network television and the arctic World Series.

So where do the modern Reds stand in such august company? They are, in baseball language, competitive. They are as strong up the middle as most of the Top 10. Bench regained his faltering reputation in the Series and is once again being trumpeted as the greatest catcher, the superior, some claim, of Cochrane, Dickey, Campanella and Yogi Berra. Dave Concepcion and Morgan compare with any short-second combination, and Cesar Geronimo, with his extraordinary throwing arm and outstanding range, is the quintessential artificial turf centerfielder. And though he is no DiMaggio, Mantle or Snider at the plate, he did hit better than .300 this year.

The Reds intimidate with both power and speed. Their 210 stolen bases far surpass those of any of the Top 10, though the running game was not that fashionable in the '30s, '40s and '50s. The Reds stole seven bases in the four Series games and consistently took the extra base on Yankee outfielders. In the second game Geronimo tagged up and scored on a shallow fly ball to center, arriving well ahead of Mickey Rivers' two-bounce toss. In the same game Griffey, who has created a whole new statistical category with his infield hits, forced Yankee Shortstop Fred Stanley into a bad throw on one of his typical AstroTurf hoppers. The error cost the Yankees the only game they had a real chance to win. The Reds' team speed is such that opposing infields are compelled to be wary of the stolen base. This leaves them vulnerable elsewhere, because as broadcaster Tony Kubek, the shortstop of the '61 Yankees, has observed, "With the Reds, the first baseman on the other team always has to hold the man on first. And the shortstop and second baseman have to cheat toward second in case of a steal. That opens up room for hits to get through, something the Reds take advantage of."

The Reds' panache, much of it the property of Third Baseman Pete Rose, is always in evidence. In the two games on the Yankee Stadium grass infield, Rose took the bunt away from the speedy but befuddled Rivers by playing in very close. In the final inning of the Series, Rivers, who must have longed to decapitate his antagonist with a line drive, finally hit one at Rose's head. Rose snatched it, then held his glove up, as if to say, "Better luck next time, sucker."

The Reds take consistent advantage of opponents' mistakes, as Stanley ruefully learned, and they stifle rallies with their alertness, as Yankee Graig Nettles discovered when Bench picked him off second base after a failed bunt attempt by Willie Randolph in the fourth inning of the final game. Rivers did manage to steal a base in Game 4—the first off Bench and the Reds in 27 consecutive post-season games dating back to 1972—but he was thrown out on his only other attempted swipe, was picked off first by Pitcher Pat Zachry in Game 3 and, in his worst base-running gaffe, killed a brewing Yankee rally in the same game when he was doubled off second on a liner to First Baseman Tony Perez.

The Reds also have their unsung heroes. Witness Dan Driessen in the unlikely role of designated hitter, a position the National League does not recognize except when Commissioner Bowie Kuhn obliges it to use the DH in the World Series. Driessen hit .357 against the Yankees and belted a homer in Game 3. And Will McEnaney, who endured a miserable season (2-6, 4.87 ERA), threw 4? scoreless innings in relief and pitched, as he did a year ago, the final out.

People are not as easily awed today, but the Big Red Machine does leave an impression. The Reds had the best batting average in the majors (.280) and scored the most runs (857). They led their league in doubles (271), home runs (141) and steals. Five of the eight regulars—Griffey, Rose, Morgan, Geronimo and George Foster—were .300-plus hitters. The '29 A's had six, the '27 Yankees five. The Reds have now won two straight Series, the first National League team to do so since the 1921-22 Giants.

Awesome, maybe. Praiseworthy, certainly. And during this last impressive week, praise came forth, sometimes grudgingly, from the old players who watched the Reds start yet another new era. "I'd compare the Reds favorably with any club I've seen," said Hall of Famer Ralph Kiner, now a Mets broadcaster. "The '61 Yankees don't really count. I'm not taking anything away from them, but that was an expansion year. The Reds have such balance. AstroTurf has changed the game, and they know how to play it well. They go from first to third, and if they draw the throw, they have a man on second. They're a great club.... They don't have the same power of the teams of the '50s, but they make up for it. Every man on the field is a pro."

" Concepcion has a lot more power and a better arm than I did," said the old Scooter, Rizzuto, a Yankee broadcaster. "I don't think I could play on AstroTurf so well, so deep in the hole."

"We had pitching and power," said Elston Howard, catcher on the '61 Yankees and coach on the '76 team. "They have speed. I don't think they compare to the guys we had. We had three catchers who hit over 20 home runs."