Johnny Bench had a chance to tie the game in the bottom of the 11th when, with two out and two on, he faced the Pirates' fourth reliever, 22-year-old Don Robinson. It was only the fifth time in 1979 that Robinson, a Goose Gossage-like fireballer who is ordinarily a starter, appeared in relief, and he walked Bench on a 3-2 curveball. That loaded the bases for Ray Knight, the potential winning run. Stargell jogged to the mound. "How about you moving to first base and I'll pitch?" he suggested. Robinson broke up, then relaxed and fanned the overanxious Knight to earn his first save of 1979.
Tanner's philosophy on the bullpen is simply "the more you use something, the better it gets." He stayed in his office until after 1 a.m. explaining that the human arm, like a rubber band, can be stretched a few times each day without harm. Hence the Pirates have the third bullpen in baseball history with three pitchers who each worked in more than 70 games. The boss reliever is Kent Tekulve, who, despite being 6'4" and only 160 pounds, appeared in 94 games and had 31 saves.
So when one of the other 70-game relievers, Enrique Romo, gave up back-to-back singles to Dave Concepcion and Foster with one out in the eighth inning of Wednesday's game, Tanner turned to Tekulve. The Pirates led 2-1, thanks to Jim Bibby's four-hit pitching—he left after the seventh with a crick in his neck—and a questionable call by Second-Base Umpire Frank Pulli, the same Frank Pulli who failed to call Reggie Jackson for interference in last year's World Series when Jackson did a hula dance into Bill Russell's throw to first. Garner, who was spectacular at the plate and in the field all series, hit a liner toward Collins in the fifth inning. Collins, who played rightfield like a colt on a frolic throughout—alternately making brilliant catches and misplaying singles into triples—made an apparent diving catch, but Pulli ruled that Collins had trapped it. Two outs later, Garner scored on Foli's double. "I caught it," Collins said. "I'm an honest person. I'm not going to say I caught it when I didn't. If I'd have short-hopped the ball, you would have seen water because the field was wet."
The play would have wound up as a mere oddity had the Reds been able to hit in the clutch. No fewer than seven different hitters failed to produce with runners in scoring position. Upon arriving on the scene in the eighth, Tekulve promptly wild-pitched Concepcion and Foster to second and third, so that a fly ball by Bench would have tied the game. A single would have given them the lead. "That wild pitch might have turned into a blessing," Tekulve would say. "Bench's job became to lift the ball into the outfield. If I'm throwing my slider on the outside corner, that's hard for him to do."
There was some question as to whether Tekulve was throwing his best sliders out there—Catcher Ott said, "They weren't exactly on the black; my eyes lit up pretty good a couple of times"—but he struck out Bench on four pitches. Then, following an intentional walk, Tekulve almost forced in the tying run before inducing Knight to fly out.
With one out in the ninth, pinchhitter Heity Cruz and Collins doubled off Tekulve, tying the game 2-2. Suddenly a hit would have evened the series. After Joe Morgan walked, Tanner brought in his sixth pitcher, the hard-throwing Robinson, and this time he needed no settling down from Stargell or anyone else. "He struck out Concepcion on a pitch God couldn't have hit," Ott said of Robinson's 0-2 curve. Then he brought a fastball in on Foster's fists to end the inning on a grounder to Garner at second.
The Pirates won it 3-2 in the 10th when Parker, a Cincinnatian by birth, drove home Moreno with a single. Robinson mowed down the Reds in order, to get the win and give the Family a new favorite son. "That country boy from West Virginia was flat throwing a baseball," Stargell whistled. "I wouldn't have wanted any part of him."
Having lost both games in their home park, the Reds, who so badly lack the leadership that Stargell gives the Pirates, knew they were beaten. "It looks like it's going to be another one of those winters," Bench said.
Friday, when it was all over, Stargell was the last player to leave the dressing room. He undressed slowly, emotionally drained. The '77 Chardonnay was also drained. The third Oriole-Angel game was showing on a TV in a corner, and Stargell found it in himself to cry out, " Baltimore's probably saying, 'Damn, I wish we could lose.' They don't want to mess with us!"
Not you, Pops. Anyone but you.