And now Mark McGwire, his historic chase continues.
One home run shy of Babe Ruth.
Two shy of Roger Maris' 61.
He's facing a Reds team...
...that hasn't allowed a McGwire home run all year.
Into left field. They can't say it anymore.
Sixty.
And now Mark McGwire is one home run away...
...from tying a 37-year-old record held by Roger Maris.
I wonder what Dad would've thought of this.
It's weird. In some ways, it's like the best season Dad ever had.
Yeah, he's not even here to see it.
--with the souvenir of a lifetime.
-You guys ready to go? -Just waiting for Mom.
McGwire's date with destiny rapidly approaches.
Thoughts of 1961...
...when two Yankee teammates and that great home run race.
Roger Maris, Mickey Mantle, chasing another Yankee great, Babe Ruth.
Sixty-one home runs in a season, a record they said would never be broken.
And as the Maris family makes their way to st. Louis to witness history...
...you're all invited to watch Mark McGwire continue this home run chase.
-Awave to the crowd, a fist into the air. -Okay, I'm ready, let's go.
JOE Folks, don't go anywhere.
The way he's swinging the bat, this could happen soon.
Maybe he won't do it.
Come on, Susan, there's 25 games left.
If he does, he better do it this weekend.
I don't wanna follow him around for the next two weeks.
-Mom? -Mom?
-Mom, what is it? Mom, what's the matter?
I can't catch my breath.
Well, the doctor said it wasn't a heart attack, it's my arrhythmia.
I'm fine. Really, Susan.
I slept well. I feel great this morning.
-Hi, Mom. Hi, Kev.
What's that?
It's Dad's bat.
It's the one he hit the 61st with.
The Hall of Fame sent it to the hotel. They said Mark wanted to hold it.
Can I see it?
The family of Roger Maris aIso came to town.
pat Maris, the widow of Roger Maris, had to be hospitalized upon arrival.
That ball is going, and it's clear.
It is a home run. Number 61.
He has tied Maris.
One more to go for Mark McGwire and his rendezvous with history.
JOE We would like to welcome those who have been watching...
...the Houston Astros and the Cincinnati Reds...
...as Matt McGwire looks on, wondering if this is the at-bat, Tuesday, September 8...
...that Mark McGwire moves one place in front of Roger Maris.
Down the left field line. Is it enough?
-Hey, Rog. -Yeah.
-Take it easy, you wanna break your leg? -Oh, come on, Bob, it's opening day.
Hello, everybody, this is Mel Allen with Phil Rizzuto...
...coming to you live from Yankee Stadium...
...where we're just about an hour away from opening day of the 1961 season.
Mel, I still get goose bumps out here.
-Even in a suit, I'll tell you. -I'm sure you do.
Absolutely, and new Yankee Ralph Houk's got some team...
...what with Yogi and Eli Howard behind the plate...
...chairman of the board, Whitey Ford, Moose Skowran at first...
...and up the middle, we got Richardson and Tony Kubek, and Clete Boyer at third.
And not to mention those bombers, Roger Maris and the great Mickey Mantle.
Who the...?
How does this feel, Mick?
Feels good.
Oh, baby. Good God.
Hey, Whitey, look at that.
She likes to read to the blind.
She's not your type, slick.
Yeah, I like women with small hands.
-Makes my dick look bigger. -Yeah, right.
Hey, Mick, you read Sam Simon's column today?
No. You know I don't read that shit.
That son of a bitch has been after me since day one. What's it say?
All I wrote is he should be coming into his prime.
Instead, he's had two off years in a row.
You're the owner, Dan. You know what I'm talking about.
Oh, for chrissakes, Sam. He hit 40 home runs last season.
Every guy in the league would kill to have that off year.
It's amazing the guy can play considering how much pain he's in.
If he took better care of himself, he wouldn't be injured so much.
You should be thanking me for leaving that out of the paper.
And for the Yankees, at second base, number 133.
All right, three more. Three more.
Hey, Mick. Mickey.
Okay, let's go.
Mickey, how you doing? How you doing, Mick?
Hey, Mick. Mick, you're in the cage.
Opening day, big guy, opening day.
Mick's up.
Come on, Mickey! Go!
Big deal. Only counts as one.
You can write what you want, Sam. The fans love this guy.
They love him.
What the hell does he eat?
Christ, he's unbelievable.
I've been covering this guy 10 years. He still puts me on the edge of my seat.
Oh, look at this. Mr. Ambidextrial.
Ambidextrical?
Ambidextrial. You know, that side, this side.
-You know. -Oh.
Mick, Mick, you gotta concentrate. You're not concentrating.
Ninety percent of the game is half mental.
-Remember that. WO Come on, Mickey!
Did you see that catch?
This kid may be the best right fielder in the league.
-That's because it was Mantle. -Oh, come on, Maris works hard every day.
You're like a chipmunk running around looking for nuts.
Maris comes over from Kansas City.
First year with the team, beats Mickey for the MVP, closest vote in baseball history.
Telling me Mantle wouldn't be pissed? Maris doesn't have something to prove?
I don't speculate, Artie. I write what I know.
Look, with all due respect, Milt, I don't have a regular column.
There's 15 papers in this town and we can't all write the same thing.
Daddy!
-Daddy. -Hi, honey.
Here you go, Rog. -Oh, thanks, Greg.
Kids up to see Pop get his big award?
Yeah. Just Pat and Susan.
The other ones are too little.
-They're back in Missouri. -Uh-huh.
Came up for opening day, you know, and then back tomorrow. Merlyn here?
She's back in Dallas with the boys. Doesn't like it much up here.
-Who doesn't like it up here? -Your wife.
She likes it down there. You know what I mean?
Mick, what do you say? Is there a rivalry between you and the MVP?
Oh, you want rivalry? Who'd you vote for anyway?
-You know I can't tell you that. -See, Rog, the little prick voted for you.
How about the home run record? Think you got a shot at The Babe?
-What, are you crazy? -Oh, come on.
With expansion, the pitching's gonna be thinner.
Best year I ever had, I only hit 52.
This year, you got eight extra games on the schedule.
It can't be done. Even if you get close, you ain't gonna get nothing to hit.
You're being modest. If you stay healthy you could do it.
Great. One guy's got me all washed up, the other one's got me beating Ruth's record.
You ought to get together, make up your mind...
...tell me how I am so I know how to play.
-What do you say, Rog? -I don't know, Artie.
We haven't even played a game yet...
...so maybe we'll see after we've played one.
Let's go, Roger! Go, Maris!
Look at that, you got the perfect swing for this ballpark.
l don't know. I think if anybody's gonna do it, it's gonna be Mickey.
You know, he hits from both sides of the plate.
And you don't think you got a shot?
With that short porch out there, huh?
I don't know, Artie, I don't think about that.
I'm sorry, you know? I don't know what you want me to say.
I just don't think about that sort of stuff.
Come on.
Look, I gotta get ready for the game, Artie, so I'll talk to you later.
-All right, I'll catch you later. Come on, Roger!
I should've talked to you first, but I met with some of the writers...
...and I told them I'm expecting you to be our leader.
Oh, shit, Ralph, I don't know, you know? I mean, what about Whitey or Yogi?
They've been here longer than me.
You're the heart and soul of this team.
I know Casey can be rough on you, but whatever happened with him is over.
I'm the manager now, and this is what I expect.
I'm not just talking about on the field.
Nothing gets in the way of me coming to the ballpark.
-You know that. -Oh, I know, I know.
And I got nothing against blowing off a little steam...
...but the guys look up to you.
And there's a responsibility that comes with that.
You got to be the one.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen...
...welcome to Yankee Stadium.
We direct your attention now to home plate.
So please welcome the voice of the Yankees, Mel Allen.
Go, go!
Thank you, Bob Sheppard.
Hello there, everybody. Ha-ha-ha!
And now, please give a warm welcome...
...to the commissioner of baseball, Mr. Ford Frick.
-Thank you, Mel, thank you. -This guy died and nobody told him.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the house that Ruth built.
As I stand here this afternoon, it is impossible not to think of The Babe...
...not to feel his presence here even now.
He was more than a ballplayer.
He was everything that is special about this game.
He was everything that is special about America.
I'll bet I got more pussy than he did.
And so it is a great honor for me to present to you...
...The Babe's widow, Mrs. Claire Ruth.
She will present the award for last year's Most Valuable Player.
Mrs. Claire Ruth.
On behalf of The Babe, I'm very proud to present this award...
...to another Yankee, right fielder Roger Maris.
The Babe would've been very proud of you.
Have a wonderful season.
Bottom of the sixth now.
Yankees down four runs. They could use a lift here, phil.
Oh, yeah. The fans would love to see Mick put one out of here right now.
Oh, yeah, now's the time. All right, here's the wind up, pascual delivers.
Strike three! -Cold, that will do it here in the sixth.
Tough day, the fans are letting him hear it.
Oh, I'll say, listen to them huckleberries.
-Jeez. -Loser!
Hey, Bob.
Does this sound like love to you?
Hey, this is your fault.
You guys make him out to be some kind of superman.
Who could live up to that?
Schmuck.
Holy cow, and the boo birds are out already.
Boy, oh, boy, this is gonna be some cannoli of a season, I'll tell you.
Come on, Sam, what are we talking about? It's one game.
They scored more runs than we did. That's all there is to it.
Oh, by the way, I loved your column today. Simon says shove it up your ass.
-I wasn't finished yet. Yeah, you were.
Rog, you feeling any extra pressure now after last year?
No. Not really, no.
Houk says Mick is the leader of the team. You got a comment on that?
Well, yeah, he is.
You turned things around last year. You're the one that makes the team go.
Oh, I don't know, Artie.
I mean, Mickey's been here, what, ten years and won eight pennants, five World Series.
Not too bad.
Just gonna grab a shower.
MVP. Most Vacant Personality.
Daddy? -Yeah.
Are you gonna live here with Bob?
Yeah. Yeah, just for the season, then I'll be back home.
-Daddy. -Yeah?
I liked it better when you played in Kansas City.
Yeah, I know, me too.
-But it will go real fast. You'll see. Susan, you know what?
If I don't hit the ball a real long way, I'll be back in Kansas City soon too.
Yeah.
Hey, why don't you get Uncle Bob to teach you how to juggle.
What?
Just watching you.
Well, there's steaks for the freezer and plenty of beer, eggs, cold cuts...
...and take care.
Oh, boy, I'm gonna miss you.
It's only six weeks till you're home.
Three days, and then I'm back on the road again.
You'll be back again in August, right?
-Yeah. -Maybe just in time for the baby.
Oh, Pat, I hope so. I don't wanna miss this one.
Well, you're one for three so far.
That will get you into the Hall of Fame, right?
Yeah. You see, I should be with you, you know?
-A family should be together. -Oh, Roger, we talked about this.
-We can't afford two households. -Yeah.
Thirty-eight thousand goes a lot farther in Missouri than it does in New York.
I really wanna be near my doctor this time.
-You're feeling all right, right? -Oh, I'm fine.
I just wanna be safe this time. Don't worry about that.
-All right. -Okay.
I just hate saying goodbye.
And it flies. That ball is going, going.
It is gone.
How about that?
We're not playing good ball now. What can I tell you?
You're 25 games into the season and your MVP's batting .200 with three homers.
Don't blame Rog. He does things to help us win.
But you're not winning, Ralph. Come on, Ralph.
Ralph, come here. You gotta hang in there, kid.
We're losing more than we're winning. How can that be good?
We'll turn it around. Don't worry.
Mickey, I know it's still early, but you already got nine home runs.
That's way ahead of Ruth's pace.
Damn right, and I don't wanna hear this when we ain't winning.
Are you surprised the fans are getting on Rog?
Yeah, you know, but you can't figure this stuff out.
I mean, he'll come around.
Rog, you got a minute?
No. Look, Milt, you know, I had a tough one out there today.
I just rather not talk about it.
No, no, I don't wanna talk about that anyway. This is just between us.
Look, this might just be talk, but the word is you may be traded.
Huh?
Hey, you've always been straight with me. I thought you should know.
Trade you?
What about last year, doesn't that mean anything?
Mommy, can I have more juice?
No, the only thing that matters to them is if you're producing now.
Everybody goes through a slump from time to time. They're not gonna trade you.
Oh, honey, you don't understand.
This is New York. I mean, these rumors don't just come from nowhere.
I'm a piece of meat to them. They can do what they want.
-You wanted to see me, Ralph? -Come on in, Roger.
-Hey there, Mr. Topping. -Sit down, Rog.
Yeah.
Obviously, you're not off to the kind of start we'd all hoped for.
We thought maybe there were some problems we weren't aware of.
No, no, no problems. No.
How are things at home? -Well, how do you mean?
Well, I understand pat's pregnant again. Everything all right with that?
Well, she's had a tough time with this one and we lost one a while back...
...but no, I don't think it's affecting my play, if that's what you mean.
You're not worried about hitting .300, are you?
I'd like to get a couple of hits, get myself started...
...but it's just not happening, so--
I don't care about your average, Rog.
I'm paying you to hit home runs. Home runs and RBI's.
You should be swinging for the fences. That's why we brought you here.
Yeah, sure. Yeah, all right, then.
Okay. Relax.
-Play ball. -Yes, sir.
Talk to you later, Ralph.
-Stick around, will you, Rog? -Yeah.
-Hey, Mick. Yeah?
Come here a minute.
Shut the door, would you?
What's going on?
I wanna switch around the lineup, shake things up a bit.
I'm gonna move Roger to the number three spot hitting before you, Mick.
The way you're swinging the bat, he'll see better pitches.
Ralph, I really don't think you need to do that.
I'm starting to feel better. I'm gonna come out of this.
Oh, I know. Let's just give it a shot and see what happens.
Whatever's best for the team.
Programs. Get your programs here.
Get your programs. Oh, thanks.
Batting second, number 10, the short stop, Tony Kubek.
I can't figure this guy out. Struck me out twice with that off-speed junk.
He's got you thinking about it now. -Yup.
That's why he's gonna throw a fast ball.
-Really? -I'll tell you something else.
That blonde back there has got the biggest tits I've ever seen in my life.
-Thanks. -Go get them.
Man, the lasagna at that place.
-They gave me, like, 16 layers-- -That's a good thought.
Here, here it comes, phil.
Okay, Roger steps in.
-Oh, he needs a hit. Come on, Rog.
Mantle over there on deck today because Roger's batting in the third spot.
And Kubek leads off first. And there's Richardson inching off second.
Ralph Houk has juggled the lineup today to get Maris started.
And, boy, Roger needs it. He's like my car on a cold day, I'll tell you.
Ha, ha. Still got that car, Phil?
Now here's Frank Lary on the mound, he looks Richardson back.
And here's the pitch.
It's a line drive to right center field.
This could be in between them.
Richardson will score. It's off the wall.
-Maris rounds first, digging for second. -Dig, Rog, dig.
Kaline up with the ball. Here's the throw.
Safe! -In there!
Holy cow, line drive double for Roger Maris.
And that just could get him started, Mel.
Well, I hope so, Scooter.
Man, did he hit that ball, a screaming line drive.
And here comes Mickey.
Now batting, center field, Mickey Mantle.
Oh, no, they're gonna walk Mantle.
They're gonna put him on.
-Good baseball, but I don't have to like it. -Shit, come on.
With first base open, the huckleberries are gonna walk Mickey because he's red-hot.
My, my, and I'll tell you, Mickey's not gonna like that.
-Thanks. -Thanks.
Take a look at Mick over there.
WO Mickey. -Hi.
So anyway, where was l?
You were talking about this girl. -Right, okay.
So I take her back to the hotel, right?
We start getting undressed, you know, fumbling around.
All of a sudden, she stops.
And she looks me dead in the eye and she says, "I thought you's a homo."
I said, "What the hell are you talking about?"
She says, "Well, I heard you's a switch hitter."
Oh, thank you. Put it on my tab, hon.
No, shit, you've been getting them all. Let me get this one.
Oh, get out of here, I got it.
Hey, a toast, to Roger Maris, who's on a hitting streak...
...because he's getting all them fastballs hitting in front of me.
You son of a bitch. To Roger.
I heard DiMaggio's throwing out the first ball tomorrow.
-Yeah, Joe D.? Himself.
No shit?
Damn it.
I'm gonna get a real drink. Be right back.
All right.
I shouldn't have said anything. -Yeah, well--
What, what did you say?
What?
Something between Mickey and Joe?
When Mickey first came up, he's 18. Everybody's saying he's the next DiMaggio.
-He was gonna be better than DiMaggio. -Joe D. didn't like that too much.
Nobody's got more pride than that guy.
Wasn't friendly to begin with, wouldn't say a word to Mick.
Not one word that whole year. That wasn't right.
Mickey was never that way.
When I first came up, he was the first guy to take me out with the guys.
Spring training my rookie year, we're all down in St. Pete.
They wouldn't let me eat in the restaurant, so Mickey, he gets his food...
...comes out to the bus, and he has dinner with me.
-You think DiMaggio would have did that? Pfft.
He finally talked to him once in the series.
-Wasn't much of a conversation, though. -I'll say.
Remember the '51 Series against the Giants?
Yeah, I guess. What happened, Whitey?
DiMaggio's in center, Mickey's in right. Casey goes over to Mickey before the game.
He says, "I want you to take everything. The old man can't run like he used to."
So Willie Mays gets up, right?
He hits a fly ball to right center field and Mickey takes off running.
Could he fly then? You never seen a guy run like this.
Three-point-one seconds to first base.
So Mickey's digging for the ball. He's got a bead on it, no sweat.
All of a sudden, at the last minute, he hears DiMaggio.
"I got it. I got it."
Mickey pulls up and steps into one of those drains in the outfield.
-Oh, shit. -His knee exploded, tore it apart.
You could hear it in the bullpen.
-Yeah? -Yeah.
After the game, Mick's dad's there and he's helping him into the cab...
...to go to the hospital and Mickey leans on him for help.
His dad collapses. Turns out he's filled up with cancer.
Then they ended up at the same hospital, lying next to each other.
It was a little while after that, his dad died.
It was a tough time for Mick.
WO Cheers. -Cheers. Yeah.
Shit.
Yeah, who is it?
-It's Whitey. -Oh, shit.
Get dressed. I need your help.
-I didn't want him to drive, I have my car. -Hey, fellows, how you doing?
He kept saying he was fine.
-He's fine, all right. -I'm fine.
We're weaving all over the road and he's laughing. See what I mean?
-I tried to give him coffee-- -Thank you very much.
-I couldn't. -You can, okay?
-Make sure she gets home in a cab, please? -Okay, cab.
Hey, Elmer, that's a hell of a parking job you did there.
-Thanks, slick. -Come on, come on.
-Hey, where are we going? -How you doing?
-We're gonna take you home, all right? -Home?
Yeah. I don't wanna go home.
-Let's go to the Copa. Well, we got a game.
-You didn't see anything either, right? Look at the car.
Who parked a car like that?
Get up. Get up.
I love Mickey. Mickey who?
Pipe down.
This is the St. Moritz.
I’ve got guests complaining about the noise.
He's got girls coming and going all hours of the night.
Don't get me wrong, he's stayed with us for years, we love having him.
-But this, we can't go on doing this. -Right.
-It's gonna end up in the papers. -Sure.
-It's bad for the hotel. -Hey, am I in my room yet?
Ooh.
Boy, you got some place here, man.
-I appreciate you helping us out here. -Yes.
Really. I mean, listen.
We'll talk to Mickey, okay?
-Thank you. -No sweat.
-Hey, monsieur, I'm expecting a guest. Mm-hm.
And his name is Mr. Jack Daniels.
Now here's a little something for yourself.
-Send him right up when he comes over. -Thank you, sir.
Hey, slick, how come every time you get drunk, it costs me money? Huh?
Come on. Whitey, just get him in the shower.
-Relax, I'll take care of it from here, okay? You sure?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. I got it.
-Yeah, I got it. -All right, then.
-All right, see you at the park. -Good night, Mick.
I got a big mouth.
-Not your fault. -I shouldn't have said anything.
I feel good. Come here.
You know, Joe D.'s here.
I'll handle the writers.
You better not come in right now. You know, it's just not a good time.
-Just right now, all right? -Okay.
Here you go, kid.
Breakfast of champions.
I know, it's gonna be a good year. I like this club.
-Oh, there's Mickey. -Hey, Mickey.
-Howdy, Joe. -Hey.
How you doing?
I'm good. You're not feeling too good, huh?
I just got a little touch of the flu, but I'll be all right for the game.
Yeah, there's a lot of that going around.
Yeah.
I'm here to throw out the ball.
I just wanted to say hi.
Well, it's good to see you.
Good to see you too.
-Take care of yourself, huh, Mick? -Yeah.
Okay.
-A tough day for Mickey, three strikeouts. -I'll say.
Hit the fucking ball.
Curveball bullshit.
I agree with Roger on this, Moose.
We've seen it a million times. Been going on for a while.
Yeah, I know. -Look, Rog, that's Mick.
Always been Mick, always gonna be Mick.
-Don't make a mountain out of it. -What's this, the Geneva Convention?
No, we're just a little worried about Mick.
-Why, where is he? -He's in the training room.
You know, we're all pretty concerned.
Well, don't be. Mickey can take care of himself.
Right. -Well, he couldn't this morning.
I just figured we should all watch out for him.
He had a rough night, you know? It happens to all of us.
Look, Rog, you've only been here one year. You don't know Mickey like we know him.
You try dragging yourself out there every day with no cartilage in your knee...
...and your shoulder hurting so bad, you can't even comb your hair.
I mean, the guy's taped up like a mummy, and he's still pretty good.
Yeah. Yeah, I'd say.
So if he's gotta go out, try to relax, have a couple of belts...
...that's what he's gonna do, so let's not get riled up about nothing, all right?
I'm not riled up, Whitey.
I'm just concerned. I'm not a priest, you know?
He has a rough one last night, he has a bad game today...
...and I wanna get back to the Series as much as you fellows do...
...and we can't do that without Mickey.
Yeah, that's for sure. -That's all I'm saying.
Hi, Gus.
Mm-hm.
Get me another one of these, huh?
Ow.
-Hi, Rog. -How are you, man?
What the matter?
Oh, nothing much. Just sprained it sliding into second.
-How are you feeling? -Well, my knees are killing me.
No, I was--
You had a pretty rough one last night.
Oh, that. No, I just had a little headache today, that's all.
Hm.
What am I supposed to do, man?
Every place I go, even the hotels, "Mickey, have a drink. Hey, Mick have a drink."
-This is a tough town not to have fun in. -No, I can imagine.
-You know how it is. -Yeah.
Well, listen, Mick, you know, Cerv and l got this place in Queens, you know?
It's real nice and it's quiet and a real nice place, good neighborhood.
You know, and heck, sometimes we cook for ourselves and eat in...
...and other times we're sending out.
What the hell are you talking about?
Yeah, l--
Well, I was just thinking maybe you'd like to come and live with us.
Let me get this straight.
I got a big fucking suite at the St. Moritz Hotel...
...and you want me to move to Queens?
Well, there she is.
Pretty comfortable. You know, we like it.
There's a Chinese place up here, a laundry right next door.
-Deli around the corner. -Delivers food anytime we need it.
It's a perfect location, Mick.
Fifteen from the city, half an hour from the stadium.
Well, this is it.
It's got air conditioning. You know, dining room's in here.
Pretty good-sized living room.
A TV and the stereo hi-fi there.
We got a maid, comes in every day and cleans the place up, makes the beds.
Yeah, and then the kitchen's back in here, and then the bedrooms down the hall.
Uh-huh.
And this here is the other one, you know?
Lots of closet space, comfortable bed, lots of light.
Uh-huh. I don't get it. There's only two bedrooms.
Me and Bob, we're sharing the other one.
Oh, no, fellas. Now, I couldn't do that.
No, Mickey, it's fine. Right, Bob?
Oh, yeah, yeah. As long he pays more rent.
Oh, come on, we're not too worried about that, but, you know it's....
Uh-huh.
Well, that's the tour. It's pretty much it.
-Did you tell him about that other thing? -No, did you?
-No, you said you would. -All right.
Tell him.
So, Mickey, you know, it's--
You know, Bob and I are trying to keep it quiet here.
So you know, have a few beers every now and then, but--
What, no broads?
-Right. -Right, yeah.
So you know, it's not the St. Moritz, but it's quiet, right?
-There's no distractions, and-- -Mm-mm.
And it's fun. We'll have a good time.
What do you think?
Look, pa, ain't it slick?
Yeah, honey, it was my idea.
No, you know how it is at the hotel, all the reporters and the fans all the time.
And this is great.
Well, just me and Roger and Cer.
Hey, you look kind of sexy in that.
No, there ain't no girls here. That's Roger.
He's wearing a stupid little girly apron and cooking up some bacon.
Rog, say hi to Merlyn.
Howdy, Merlyn.
All right? Oh, here's Bob.
-Say hi, Bob. -Hi, Bob.
See? Now I'm gonna be a real domesticated now.
Well, all right. I gotta go.
Breakfast is getting cold.
All right, well, say hi to the boys. Okay.
Bye.
So how are your boys doing?
Oh, you know, they're good. They're in school, they're all right.
So you ever think of bringing them up here?
Yeah, I tried that once.
I was living out in Jersey, but, you know, it's too hard when they're here.
You wanna go out after the game and they want you to drive them.
And it gets to be a pain.
I mean, I miss them and all. It's just better for everybody this way.
And there you go, Mick. -What the hell's that?
Roger's special eggs.
-Well, that's disgusting. -No kidding.
-Well, you don't have to have any, Bob. -Oh, thank you.
I'm sorry, Roger, but I'm gonna have to pass.
Mick, I'm telling you. Don't listen to Bob.
The last few times I ate these, I hit home runs.
Sorry, Bob, looks like somebody likes them.
-You like them? -No, they're shit.
But I'm in a bit of a slump. I'll try anything.
-Love them eggs. -Ha-ha-ha.
There's one.
That ball is going, going, gone.
-He got a piece of that, didn't he? Big piece.
Man, it was a meatball.
Oh, those M&M Boys.
Daddy's gonna love this one.
-You coming out or hanging with the wife? -Oh, fuck you.
There it is.
Another blast for the M&M Boys.
Holy cow. Wow.
-Mickey's on some kind of roll. -It's unbelievable.
Mantle catches him at 27, Maris comes right back with 28.
These guys are really pushing each other.
How come Maris never smiles?
Having the season of his life, the Yanks are winning, and he looks like a zombie.
There it is. Number 31 for Roger Maris.
They're gonna send out a search party for that ball.
How about that?
-Curveball? -Yeah, but it didn't cure.
So, M&M Boys, what do you think of your new nickname?
I think it's got a real nice ring to it.
Wow, Phil, that ball went 500 feet.
-A blast. Safe!
Well, Mick and I have been getting a lot of offers for endorsements...
...so we thought we'd form this partnership.
You ought to cut Mrs. Ruth in on the deal?
Why? She hit a lot of home runs?
Cheers, Mick.
There it is.
Number 34 for Roger Maris. How about that?
Wow, Mantle crushes one over the Green Monster. so hard.
And they're buzzing here at Fenway.
Right now you're on pace for 68 homers. You think you got a shot at it?
I don't know, Milt. I'm still a long way's off.
-Getting better pitches hitting ahead? -I don't know, I guess.
-What if Houk switches you? -I don't know why.
We're both hot right now. The team's doing great, so--
I don't know, I don't see any reason why he'd change it, you know.
There's a low fly ball to right field. That ball is going, going, it is gone.
-It's a home run. Maris is running to right field.
Get the ball. What a catch.
Here comes Mickey. Amazing.
A base hit.
Roger Maris in the field, what a play.
Here's the throw. He's got him.
-How about that? Tickets.
Action. -Oh, thanks.
Sure.
-There you are, Mick. -Thanks.
Say, Mickey, shouldn't we be in the field? What are we doing in the stands?
Because these--
What are you laughing at?
-Shit. Cut.
Hey, Mickey, what are we doing in the stands? Shouldn't we be on the field?
Cut. -Maybe we ought to take a break.
How about that?
Now I'm gonna call out Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris.
There's Daddy.
Maris has 35, Mantle's got 32, we're only in mid-July.
They still got 75 games left.
For Pete's sake, Artie.
Every year somebody has a couple of good months...
...and everybody thinks they're gonna hit 60, all right?
Greenberg had 58 with a week left in the season...
...he couldn't handle the pressure.
They didn't give him anything to hit because he was a Jew.
-No, come on. Oh, come on.
Come on, Milt. They always cool off.
I'm gonna bet you a hundred bucks neither one of them hits 50.
Maris will crap out at 45. You wanna bet?
You're on, you're on. Put it down, 45.
-No, no, no. 48, George. How much?
-Forty-eight. How much?
Let's remember why I called this meeting.
This is the most respected record in all of sports.
And I'm concerned that its integrity will be compromised...
...by this new 162-game season.
A lot of you are already writing about this.
So obviously you're concerned too.
That's right. Ruth hit 17 that September.
Oh, baby, what he would've done with eight extra games, huh?
-Yeah, he might've hit 70. That's right.
Okay, okay, what if Mantle breaks it on the last game of the season?
Is that fair to The Babe?
I think Mantle's got a shot at it if he stays healthy.
But this Maris is in a groove like I never seen.
Yeah, wouldn't that be a story?
The crew cut from Fargo becomes the new Babe Ruth.
"Hey, Roger, how does it feel to be the new home run king?"
"Pretty good, I guess."
With all respect to these guys, and they are--
They're great players.
The year that Babe hit 60...
...he had more home runs than every team in the American League.
What if they both break it? That would tarnish the record.
What, tarnish? What?
This is a fantastic story, fellows.
Two Yankees playing in the house that Ruth built, both going after his record.
It's great for baseball.
And if I may be permitted a cliché, records are made to be broken.
If it's broken in the same number of games.
Bullshit, Sam. Bullshit.
You know, when Ruth set his first record back in 1921...
...he played in 14 more games than the guy who set the record.
Where was the uproar then? No, I say a season's a season.
We know what you're saying, Milt...
...but something about this, it just doesn't seem right.
I agree. -Then there should be separate records.
One for each season, right, Ford?
Separate records? What are we doing here?
And we can put an asterisk in it.
-To show the difference. Why not?
Yeah, how about that?
Yeah, otherwise it would not be fair to The Babe.
Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I have a brief statement.
As commissioner of Major League Baseball, it is my determination...
...given the length of this year's season...
...that any record broken in more than 154 games...
...will be held as a distinct and separate record.
Commissioner.
Is this ruling directed at the M&M Boys and their chase at Ruth's record?
No. This goes for any record.
Any record? -Let me repeat.
Any record.
Commissioner, according to my schedule...
...game 154 is September 20th in Baltimore.
-Isn't that where the Babe was born? That's right.
What are you gonna do, Rog? Frick used to be The Babe's ghost writer.
-They were tight. -Yeah, but it stinks, Yogi.
-It's a crock of shit's what it is. -Fucking Frick, this is gonna be a circus.
A zoo. -Yeah.
I think Frick's right.
If I'd got it in 155, I wouldn't want it.
Wouldn't want it? How could you not?
Not if it had one them thingamajiggers on the end of it.
How about you, Rog? Do you think it's right, this asterisk?
I don't know, fellas.
Say Mickey breaks it in 154 and then I pass him later.
What are they gonna say if that happens? Huh?
In my mind, a season's a season.
Then you disagree with Frick's ruling?
He's the commissioner. It's not my place.
We got eight extra games, it's true...
...but Ruth never had to fly to the West Coast or play in night games.
I just think it's harder for us.
Babe hit .343 the year he set the record.
You're hitting .270. You feel bad about that?
No. Why should I feel bad when I'm doing the best I can, Artie?
Think if you focused less on the record, you'd hit for better average?
I'm not focusing on the record, you guys are.
I'm gonna go hit.
Wait, Rog, I got a couple more questions.
Watch out, Artie.
Jeez, man, I saved your life.
Look, fellows, all this is bullshit.
When one of us has got 50 coming in the last month, talk to us then.
Maris took a shot at the commissioner...
...by saying that The Babe had it easier.
I did not say The Babe had it easier. Do you believe this shit?
You got to be careful.
You'd think I was trying to replace Jesus Christ.
-Then don't read the Daily News. What?
Look, in '56, I had 52 home runs. That's all anybody could ever talk about.
Ruth this, Ruth that, 24 hours a day.
We're chasing a ghost, Rog.
You go in that clubhouse, he's there. You're at home plate, he's there.
You're in the outfield, he's there, the fat fuck. He's everywhere.
We're playing in his house.
You got it worse. You're playing in his position.
But this is ridiculous. I don't give a damn about Ruth.
Well, you better, because he's a god to these people.
Well, screw it then. I'm just not gonna do anymore interviews.
You can't do that neither. They're gonna come after you.
-You gotta give them something. -What am I supposed to give them?
I don't know, something about yourself.
I mean, I don't know if you noticed, but you ain't that big a talker.
Well, I don't know what to talk about. I don't know what I'm supposed to say.
I don't know, Rog.
I’ve been living with you most of the season...
...and I don't know nothing about you.
Well, I was raised in Fargo, I played baseball, basketball, football.
I married my high school sweetheart.
You know, chose baseball and played in the Minors...
...came up with Cleveland, got traded to Kansas City, then I came here.
-You're right, don't talk to them. -Shit.
A real pitcher's duel here tonight.
Game tied at one here in the bottom of the sixth.
Two outs, Richardson on third, and here comes the big guy, Roger Maris.
Okay, Roger's stepping in there. And, boy, they're playing him deep.
Look at that, the second baseman is actually on the grass.
Boy, that's where the outfield used to play me.
-Get a hit now, Rog. -He always hits good against this guy.
-Come on, Rog, knock one. -Come on, get some wood.
Roger hasn't had one in a week and he'd love to get a hold of one.
Can I wish a happy birthday--? -No, here comes the pitch, phil.
He bunts. Holy cow, it's a squeeze play.
Richardson's looking for home, Maris going to first.
Richardson's safe.
Safe. Yeah!
Yeah.
Wow, Yanks take the lead 2 to 1. Holy cow.
Perfect placement. That's a player.
MVP. Most Valuable Player.
-Yeah, yeah. -Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
They were playing me deep and we really needed that run.
They don't pay you to bunt.
They pay me to help the team win. That's what I did.
Look, Mickey's ahead 43 to 41. You haven't had a home run in a week.
You're falling behind Ruth's pace.
Is the pressure starting to get to you? Feeling gun-shy?
I strike out and you say I'm swinging for the fences.
I bunt, you say I'm afraid to hit home runs.
You're a game up on the Tigers.
Shouldn't you focus on winning the pennant?
That's what I'm doing.
Have you seen the poll? -No, I try not to read the papers.
It says 80 percent of the fans are rooting for Mickey.
Eighty percent. Well, I guess that seems right, yeah.
Why is that?
Maybe I'm not a New York kind of guy, Sam.
I'm some dumb redneck from North Dakota.
Think that's the way the fans think of you?
Shit, I don't know how they see me.
Give us something.
-Come on. Could you help me out?
-What's going on here, Milt? -Wild dogs.
All right, that's it for tonight. That's all.
We have a job to do.
He's getting a little full of himself, Ralph.
I'm some dumb redneck from North Dakota.
Shit, I don't know how they see me.
Maybe I'm just not a New York kind of guy.
Why don't you go back home where you belong?
Nobody wants you here.
You go ahead and get out of here.
This is the Bronx. This is Mickey's town.
There it is, number 45 for Roger Maris.
Oh, they're letting him have it here at Griffith Park.
Roger Maris with his 45th home run drawing a lot of boos.
-Boy, these Boston fans are tough. You can say that again.
You believe this crap?
M&M fever has gripped the nation.
At the White House today...
...president Kennedy interrupted a press conference...
...to announce that Roger Maris hit his 47th and 48th home runs.
That's seven home runs for Maris in his last six games.
But with Mickey Mantle right on his heels with 45...
...the race is still very much alive.
Still six weeks until Frick's deadline as the Yankees head to the West Coast...
...to play the new Los Angeles Angelis and Roger Maris just 12 home runs away.
Woo-hoo! Hot damn, honey, this is great news.
Oh, wow.
So you all right? Everything's fine?
-I'm fine. -Oh, good.
-Three more days, I would have been there. -Don't worry about it.
I tried to wait for you, but Randy had other ideas.
Yeah, I bet he did.
I can't wait to tell the fellas. This is great.
-So who does he look like? -Well, I hate to say it, but Babe Ruth.
-What? -Roger, I'm kidding.
Oh, sorry, honey. Yeah, I'm a little--
Hey, Rog, I hear you got good news. Congratulations.
-Yeah. -What's his name?
-Ruth. -Very funny.
Oh, that's wonderful, honey. That's really, really great.
-Hey, Rog-- -Hey, Artie, do you mind?
I'm talking to my wife.
How much did he weigh? We got a pool going.
Hear that? Your son wants you to hit him a home run tonight.
Honey, if it were that easy I'd do it every time.
Are you okay?
Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just, you know, should have been there.
Two and 0 the count. Here's the pitch.
There it goes. Back to the wall.
It's gone. Oh, doctor.
Fifty home runs and he still has 29 games to break Ruth's record.
You know, I think this may be the real news flash of the day, gang.
Roger Maris is actually smiling.
What the hell is this now?
Roger, Roger. Roger.
Roger.
Back away from the door, please.
May I ask you a few questions? Back off of the door.
-Roger, how does it feel to hit 50? I'm sorry, fellas.
This is my home, this is not the ball park.
-You think you could break the record? -Get off the grass.
I don't have a comment.
Watch the bushes. Could you watch the bushes?
How'd you get this address?
I just followed the crowd.
Roger. Photo, please.
Folks, leave me alone, this is my home.
Daddy.
Hi. Hi, sugar.
Daddy, all these people are here for you.
Yeah, I know. It's okay.
-How did they get this address? -One of the papers published it.
Which one? I'm gonna call now.
Roger. -Yeah?
-Wouldn't you like to meet your new son? -Oh, God, of course, Pat.
I'm sorry. I just-- Those reporters.
Hey.
Ohh.
Ohh. Look at you.
Come here.
Hi there.
He does look like The Babe, doesn't he?
Yeehaw!
Whoa! Whoo!
I’ve got you.
Try it.
Hey, Rog. Now, this is good.
-A lot better than them eggs. Ha-ha-ha.
-You try those? -God, no.
Ha, ha. You love them. -Beer, Mickey?
Uh, no. No, this is good.
Is he all right?
Uh....
You know, it's been hard.
With the pressure and New York and the papers.
But he's having a hell of a season, that little son of a bitch.
Pardon me.
Three days just isn't enough.
And by the time he's ready to be here, it's time for him to leave.
All right, let's go eat.
Whoo! Come on, Junior.
-How's the eats? Great.
-Good. Yeah. -Daddy.
I know who the best baseball player in the world is.
-Who's that, honey? -Mickey.
-Who told you that? -Mickey.
-Hey, she asked. -That's about right.
I'll get that.
Hello?
Who is this?
What's wrong, Pat? -Roger.
Who is it?
Thanks very much. I appreciate your help.
You bet.
Well, the detective says 99 percent it's just a prank.
You know.
If somebody's gonna kidnap your kid...
...they're not gonna call and warn you about it.
Well, that makes sense.
But just to be safe...
...they're gonna leave some of the guys stationed around the house so....
Do you want me to stay over?
No, it's.... It's all right.
Oh, I'm probably in the way here anyway.
No, Mickey, we really appreciate you being here.
-Listen, do me a favor, would you? -Oh, yeah, anything, Rog.
Just don't tell anybody about this, you know. Not even the fellas.
Oh, of course.
I just don't wanna find it making its way into the papers, you know.
You sure know how to spoil a good time.
-Good night. -Yeah.
-I'll see you at the park. -Yeah.
Thanks for the day.
All right.
Shh.
Hey, Merlyn, it's me.
What time is it? -I don't know.
What's wrong?
Well, I just called to say hi to the boys.
Oh, Jesus.
Mickey, it's 2:30.
Well, I just called to make sure everybody's all right.
Well, they'd like to talk to you more.
-That's why I'm calling. -Well, it's a little bit past their bedtime.
Okay, then I'll call back tomorrow.
What time do they get up for school?
Mickey, it's August.
Oh.
God, I'm stupid.
I'll tell them you called.
Mickey?
-Not when these hot dogs are so good. -Good? They're a home run.
Home run? They're a grand slam.
Just like at the ballpark.
M&M Hot Dogs at Daitch shopwell.
-Hey. -Oh, tough luck, Mick.
Right into the water hole.
--would resume nuclear testing.
-Everyone is concerned about one thing. -Look at this.
Who's going to break Babe Ruth's home-run record?
Roger Maris comes into this crucial Labor Day weekend series...
...against the second place Tigers with 51.
But Mickey Mantle is right behind him with 48.
So the only question now is which M to root for.
Well, no doubt. I mean, it's Mickey Mantle.
He's the greatest player that ever was.
Well, I don't wanna see Roger Maris break the record.
He's always frowning.
Besides, Mickey's such a dreamboat.
Hey, dreamboat.
If anyone's gonna break the record, I think it ought to be Mantle.
Because after all, he's really a Yankee.
I mean, the real Yankee kind of guy.
I never heard of this guy, Maris, till last year.
And I don't know. He leaves me flat.
And who are you rooting for? -I want Roger.
There you go, you got a vote. And why is that?
Well, because everyone else is rooting for Mickey.
The year Ruth hit 60, his teammate, Lou Gehrig, hammered 47.
They were bitter rivals and barely spoke.
As for the M&M boys, I'm told there's also a rift.
Even a feud growing between them.
-Are we feuding? -Yeah, I guess so. It's on TV.
-Well, fuck you, then. -Up yours.
--Yankee players are pulling for Mantle.
But you didn't hear that from me.
From Yankee Stadium, I'm Gabe pressman.
-Oh. Time for Andy Griffith. -Oh, yeah?
Hey, Bob, are you awake?
Yeah, sort of.
Is it true...
...what they're saying on TV there about Mickey...
...and all the fellas rooting for him?
Oh, jeez, don't ask me this.
Look, it's all right, you know, I just wanna know.
What are you, a reporter all of a sudden? Heh-heh.
How should I know what anybody thinks?
I mean, Mickey's been here forever.
Yeah, I know.
Most of the guys, they've known him five years, 10 years.
-They came up with him in the farm system. -Yeah.
Well, I'm not saying that's what it is, you know?
We don't talk about it. I don't know.
I mean, it's nothing personal if they do.
But I'm not saying they do because I don't know.
But if they were...
...it's not personal, you know?
Yeah.
Sure.
I don't hear nothing.
Thanks.
Mickey, sign this for me.
WO I love you.
I love you, Mickey!
Gathering over here. Hey, Maris!
Hey, Maris, if I was batting in front of Mickey, I'd have 50 homers too.
Roger. Roger.
Please, Roger. Make it for my sick kid.
-He loves you, Roger, please. -Sure.
-Just put your X on the ball, please. -Okay.
Oh, God. Thank you, thank you. We love you, we love you.
Hey. Hey, hold on a second.
Maris!
An X?
What am l, fucking stupid?
Fuck you, Maris. Fuck you.
Dan?
Sit down, Ralph.
You wanted to see me?
I just love sitting here in the quiet before a game.
What these seats have seen, huh?
I've been thinking. I wondered what you thought...
...about changing the lineup tonight.
What kind of change?
Switching Mantle and Maris.
You serious?
We're a game and a half up on the Tigers and you want me to screw with it?
What is this about? The home runs?
You reading the fan mail? You wanna let the fans manage the team?
The fans pay your salary, Ralph.
Well, you can change the lineup if you want.
But not while I'm manager.
And I'll tell you something.
The right guy is gonna break that stupid record.
Change the fucking lineup.
Number six, Al Kaline.
Well, we got a 10-20 here, my friends. Top of the fifth in a scoreless game.
Two outs, runner on first.
Here comes Al Kaline to the plate.
But there goes Wood.
With a line drive through the gap. Boy, this could be trouble.
It's gonna go in between them.
There's Maris. Maris makes a great play. Tips it to Mantle and here comes the relay.
-Faster, hold up, wait a minute! They're gonna hold him at third.
-Damn. Wow, look at that.
-How about that? Holy cow.
Maris, with one of the best plays I've seen to save a run for the Yanks.
Boy, the M&M Boys doing it with the glove.
-No homers tonight. -We won the game.
You getting a little tired, Rog?
I'm getting tired of these questions, that's what.
I understand, just one more.
I don't think you do understand. You were there.
Moose won the game for us, Ellie's batting .340.
Whitey's gonna win 20 games this season. Why don't you talk to them?
-I'm not the only one on this team. -I got it.
Rog, one more thing. What's with your new autograph?
What are you talking about?
The guy says, "Put an X on this ball for my kid."
So I sign it X and the son of a bitch takes off.
I was gonna give him a real one, I was kidding. Shit.
We win the most important game of the season...
...and this is the horseshit they write?
Hey, Bob, I'm eating here.
Sorry, Mick. You know you're not the only one with a bum knee.
I don't know what smells worse, your foot or these eggs.
This is horseshit, this is horseshit.
I'd never make a kid cry.
For a guy who don't like the press, you read a lot.
Yeah, well, Mickey, listen.
They wanna write about whatever happens on the ball field, that's fair game, but this?
This is cheap-shot bullshit.
Hey, cheap shots, man. That's part of the deal.
In '53, I tried to volunteer for the Army, but I got rejected on account of my knees.
Papers started calling me a draft dodger.
Don't matter what the truth is. I still get booed for that.
-What do you do? You just get used to it? -No, but you got to.
-Ow. -What are you doing?
This hangnail's killing me.
-Take it in the bedroom. That's disgusting. -Ow.
"Mean-spirited Roger."
Hey, I'm not even good enough for people to write about.
Why are you reading this stuff, Roger? It's not helping you.
Look, whether you guys break this record or not...
...it ain't gonna mean nothing unless we get back to the World Series, you know?
They may have to cut my knee at the end of the season.
I might need that 8000 bucks.
I know, I'm sorry about that.
Oh.
Aw. Now look what you've done.
Probably make it taste better.
Maris already hit his 52nd homer today and he's looking for number 53.
Lary on the mound and the wind up. Here's the pitch.
Oh, he's got it.
That ball is deep into right field, hairline back to the wall.
That ball is going, going....
It is gone. Number 53 for Roger Maris.
How about that?
Come on! Boo!
Can you believe this? They're booing him in his own ballpark.
Yeah, I wonder why, Artie.
-Bum! I don't understand this, Phil.
No, there's a couple of huckleberries out there letting Roger know...
...they don't want him to break Ruth's record, jeez.
-Nice one. Did hit the ball.
You'd never know he has 53 home runs.
Damned if he does, damned if he don't.
Nice shot, Rog.
Good job, Roger. Good job.
-Good job, Rog. -Put a price on it, baby.
Number seven, the center fielder, Mickey Mantle.
Number seven.
Mickey!
Come on, Mick! Mickey, let's go!
Come on, Mick!
Mickey! You can do it, Mickey!
Time.
I’ve never seen him get a hand like this before.
He's never been the underdog before.
Now, this is really something, folks.
Mantle is at the plate, stuck on 48 home runs...
...and this Yankee crowd is trying to will him back into this home run race.
-Come on, Mickey. It's the Yankee fans at their very best.
-How about that? Wow...
...and I tell you something else.
He gets a hold of one the way he's swinging, it's gonna go to Jersey.
Mark my word.
Oh, no.
-Mick, what is it? -I'm okay.
Come on, let me see.
-What is it, Mick? -My fucking arm.
-Ow. -You all right? I can put Blanchard in.
No.
-You all right? -Don't ask me twice.
God.
You know, I heard Bunting's pitching tomorrow.
Yup.
-He's tough. Yup.
Win tomorrow and sweep.
Damn straight.
We'll get them.
Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen.
Here are the starting lineups.
I always knew I'd end up tying your shoes, Mick.
I just figured it would be in a nursing home.
Ow! Fuck, Gus.
How you doing there, Mickey?
I'm okay.
Maybe you ought to sit this one out.
No fucking way, Ralph. I'm playing.
What are you looking at him for? It's my arm. I say I'm okay, I'm okay.
I'm playing.
Number seven, the center fielder, Mickey Mantle.
Number seven.
-I can't believe he's out there. -You should've seen him last night.
I know.
Let's go!
Maris leads off first.
Here we go, here's the pitch.
That's gotta hurt with that pulled muscle in his forearm.
Boy, it hurts me just to watch him, Mel.
Go ahead, try that again.
Come on, Mick!
Bunting sets.
Here's the pitch.
Oh, my God. It's a long fly ball deep into right center field.
Rudy goes back, he's not gonna get there. It's out of here.
He's a fucking god.
-Oh, yeah. -Forty-nine.
Mickey Mantle hit that ball over 450 feet. How about that?
-Forty-nine! -Forty-nine!
That is the gutsiest thing I’ve ever seen on a ball field.
They love hearing a big ball park.
Hell of a hit, Mick. Put her there pal.
Can't do it.
A one-armed home run. I can't even eat pizza with one arm.
Hell of a job, Mickey, hell of a job.
-Nice shot. He's coming to get you, Rog.
You're nothing without Mickey. He's coming to get you, man.
Can you believe that shot? One hand. One hand. Whoo.
Shh.
Let me get a drink.
Come on.
What are you doing up?
Oh, you know, I couldn't sleep, so....
Is that Roger Maris?
I'm gonna have to take a rain check on tonight, okay?
-But Mickey. I know, I'm sorry.
I'll call you.
-How's the arm? -Mm.
You ought to go in early tomorrow, let Gus have a look at it.
No, I'm all right. I'll be fine.
Shit, Mickey.
We're only four games up on Detroit. Take care of yourself.
All right, if I needed a caretaker, I'd have moved in with my mother.
I know there's a lot of bullshit about this record.
I don't care about this stupid record, Mickey.
-They can shove it up their ass for all I care. -Oh, come on, give me a break.
-Why can't you just admit you want it too? -Oh, shut up, man.
Come on, Christ. Have fun with it.
If you can't have a good time playing baseball, there's something wrong with you.
Easy for you to say, isn't it, Mick?
Oh, come on.
Quit feeling so sorry for yourself, huh?
I mean, hey, man, I know. It's been rough on you, all that stuff.
But you ain't exactly helping it much. I told you how to handle them guys.
You don't wanna listen.
You told me? You told me a lot about a lot of different things.
Then you go and do whatever you want and nobody says shit about it to you.
Don't get on my case just because everybody else is on yours.
-It's not my problem. -Right, it's my problem.
My problem.
You, you just go out and do whatever the hell you want--
Mickey, you ever just stop and think...
...if you took better care, you wouldn't be getting hurt?
Did you see what you did out there today with only one arm?
And tonight, you're out screwing around.
How'd you do that? You're Mickey Mantle, for chrissake.
What's that mean? What the fuck's that supposed to mean?
I don't know, Mick, maybe you're the one who doesn't want it.
You think you know about me? You don't know shit.
Yeah?
Fine.
My dad died when he was 39.
Hodgkins.
My grandfather, my uncle, same thing.
None of them made it past the age of 45, all right?
So I'm gonna live my life the way I want.
Why don't you get off my back. Go call your wife.
Go cry to her about it.
All right, then.
Shit.
Man.
Hello?
Hi, it's me.
Oh, it's late. Is everything all right?
Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.
What's wrong?
Tell me. Oh, I don't know, honey.
Sometimes I just feel like I'm up against the world here.
Look, I gotta warm up.
You know, I mean, I can see it. I can see it in their eyes.
They're all pulling for Mickey.
How are you two getting along?
What do you mean?
Well, some of the papers say you two are fighting.
No, no, they're just stirring up trouble, you know.
I hope he hits 80 home runs, Pat, I do.
And you hit 81.
Yeah, of course.
But I just can't figure it, honey.
Why does it gotta be they only have room in their hearts for one guy?
Oh, I don't know, sweetheart.
Boy, sometimes I wish they'd traded me...
...at the beginning of the year, you know?
Oh, you know you don't mean that, Roger.
No, I do. I really do.
Oh, I wish I could be there with you.
Yeah.
Yeah, me too.
If you want, she's got a sister. Okay.
Cut right through it.
Why can't I kick this goddamn flu?
I get it two days, goes away, get it again worse.
I get these chills, I can't sleep at night.
Mick, this is my doctor.
Now, he treats Eddie Fisher, Sammy Davis, a lot of entertainers.
He's got this magic shot.
I’ve been sick during the day, I take one of these shots...
...I do the game that night.
Now, his name's Max Jacobson. You give him a call, he'll take care of you.
Thanks, Mel.
You bet.
Seems like a good idea.
Hey, Mick.
I'm not gonna take you out of the lineup...
...but I need you for the Series, so if you need rest let me know.
I'll be all right. Tell you what.
I'll go get this shot and I'll be good as new.
You take care of yourself. You don't get sick.
Think your boy Roger's gonna do it now that he's falling apart?
He's not my boy, and if they pitch to him, he's still got a shot.
No, it's over. The record's safe.
-See you, Milt. -Yeah.
-Oh, hey, I look pretty good there. -Yeah.
Yeah, never better.
Jeez.
People are stupid sometimes.
Yeah.
You know, Mick, where I grew up, you went to school, you got married...
...you worked hard and stayed in Fargo the rest of your life.
That was it.
I tell you what, that would've been just fine with me.
Except l....
I could play ball.
And my father taught me just like you.
-Oh, yeah? -Yeah.
He was tough, boy. Pushed us hard.
My brother Rudy, he was a hell of a player.
He was far better than I was.
We all thought that he was gonna be the one.
I don't think I would've played ball...
...if he hadn't had dragged me to the park all the time.
-Then he got sick with polio. -Oh, jeez.
It was real bad.
My father, he just....
He just got torn up inside, you know, just....
Parents started fighting all the time. Screaming and yelling about everything.
But nobody ever talked about it, you know.
Not even in the house.
Just kept it private.
You know, it was nobody's business. Your life is your life.
Yeah.
You're like a movie star to these people, you know.
-Oh. -No, you are, Mick. You got a way.
But me, if I don't wanna talk about things...
...and I don't know what they wanna hear and I just wanna play ball...
...what does that make me? I mean, does that make me the bad guy?
There is no bad guy, Rog.
Well, I got about a thousand more of these says you're wrong.
I just....
I just don't understand why it's so important to them, you know?
Maybe you ought to forget about your mail for a while, you know?
Put this shit away.
No, I gotta write back to the kids, you know.
Believe it or not, there's some real nice ones in there from the kids.
-Good night, Rog. -Good night, Mick.
Happy birthday. Happy birthday, Rog.
From all the gang at Toots Shor. There you go, pal.
-Thank you. -Blow the candles.
-Make a wish. -Blow them out.
-Here we go, toast. -Happy birthday.
-Cheers. -Happy birthday, Rog.
-All right. -It's good shit, huh?
-Oh, that's good, Mick. -I had Toots bring out the best.
Man, look at you. You all right? You don't look so good.
I went to this stupid doctor and got a shot for my flu.
-Yeah? -Right in my hip.
Now my hip's all infected or something. It's swollen. I don't know what's wrong.
I'll tell you, you should have-- Excuse me, fellas.
I got a couple of my nieces over at the bar.
They're nice, sweet college girls down from Boston.
Would you mind taking a picture with them?
-Yeah, yeah, sure. -Thanks, Rog.
Come on, let's go, sweetheart. These are busy men.
Smile.
It's everywhere.
Well, what do I tell my family, my friends?
I hope you tell them it's a crock because that's what it is.
I know, but I'm in the supermarket and people are whispering.
It's humiliating.
Why'd you have to go and take a picture with them?
-I don't know-- -It's embarrassing.
I don't know what you want from me.
-Roger. -They introduce me, say take a picture.
That's what they do. I don't control the press.
Roger, the kids were upset.
I was calling every 10 minutes. Just thought you were gonna be home to talk to us.
Look, I'm....
Sorry, Pat, l.... Mickey came up to me after the game--
It figures. One night out with Mickey.
No, this has nothing to do with Mickey. I wish you'd just leave him out of it.
Yeah.
You know, I don't have time for this, all right?
I don't know how many more times we can go over it. Sorry.
-There's nothing I can do. -Roger.
Look, you know, I gotta get to the airport. I'll call you from Detroit.
-Strike three. -Come on.
-That's bullshit. -I don't wanna run you.
Where's your strike zone? You're up, you're down. Be consistent.
-Roger, I won't run you. -Bullshit.
-Don't get tossed. -Come on.
-Don't get tossed. Don't. -You're better than that.
Hey, Roger, up here! Hey, hey!
Hey, it's the voice from above!
Hey, Maris, up here!
It's The Babe!
Hey, hey, you want my record?
You want my record?
You can come up and kiss my bambino ass!
Hey, saw you in the paper the other day! Nice hookers you got there, pal!
You're nothing. You got nothing!
You're never gonna be nothing!
Hey, what, you can't even face me?
You can't even look at me?
Oh, you wanna play ball? You wanna play some ball?
Hey, tell you what.
Catch this, you piece of shit.
Shit.
Time! What are you, nuts?
What's the matter with you?
-All right, let's go, come on. -Come on.
You fucking maniac! What's wrong with you?
We gotta get him off the field.
-Hey, Rog, we gotta get you off the field. -Horseshit, I'm staying.
-Ralph, we got a riot! -Hold on a second, it's his call.
-Wanna play? -I'm playing, staying in.
-He's playing. We gotta get him off the field.
-Get this ball and get him out. Wait a minute.
Don't you tell me to calm down! Don't tell me to calm down!
You control that field. My men should not be in danger.
Beat it, goddamn it.
-Hey, calm down, Ralph. Calm down. -Don't tell me to calm down.
-Are you gonna--? -Shut up.
-He shouldn't have to worry about his life. -Your call then.
You want my call? He's playing. He's playing safe.
Roger has been....
It's a madhouse out there.
-You all right, Rog? -Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.
-Wanna beer? -No.
Son of a bitch.
-What's wrong? -Oh, shit.
What is it?
Look at this, Gus.
-Hey, slick, what is that? -Huh?
Oh, that's nothing.
You gotta be patient, man. You need to--
Hey, Ralph, Roger won't come out of the--
Will you give a guy a break? Did you see what happened today?
-Come on, Ralph, he's got a responsibility. -You guys are all over him day and night.
-This is a big story, come on. -Let the man be for a minute, can't you?
If you can't do that, I'll throw you out. Do you hear me?
-Bob, do your job. -Move back, will you?
How does it look in back? -A few patches.
God.
What the hell is happening to me, Gus?
It's Fishel.
-Roger, I need you out there. -I'm not talking, Bob.
-Look, they've got a job. -What, hurt me and my family?
You only make it worse by not talking.
I need you to protect me, Bob. Once, one time.
Get those bloodsuckers off my back.
-Roger-- -No, no. I'm done, Bob, I'm done.
I'm not talking to anybody. You hear me?
Hey, Bob. Bob, Bob.
Let me see a mirror, Gus.
Ow!
I don't understand it, you know?
Doctor says it's stress.
Imagine that, hair falling out from stress.
Maybe you're in the wrong line of work.
Yeah, maybe.
Doctor says to me:
"You just stay out of pressure situations."
Even got me on these relaxing pills.
You know, fuck doctors.
Excuse me.
-Coffee and a Coke. -Thank you.
Thanks.
You see?
-See how I'm taking care of myself? -Yeah.
What are you up to now? Five packs a day?
Can't be too good for you.
No, probably not.
You know, when I first come up, I was under so much pressure...
...from Casey and everybody telling me I was gonna be the next Joe DiMaggio.
And they gave me number 6, right?
Ruth was 3, Gehrig was 4, DiMaggio was 5 and me, number 6.
I hated that, being in line with the other guys.
And the press, man, they was all over me. Calling me a hillbilly.
I mean, I was, you know?
I get to New York. I got a $7 suitcase and an $8 suit and...
...my whole town's got 2000 people in it and Yankee Stadium's got 40 times that.
I'm 18 years old and everybody's expecting a home run every time I get up to the plate.
Yeah.
That was killing me. Couldn't hit the ball.
So Casey sent me back down to the minors...
...and I couldn't hit there neither.
And finally, I called up my dad and told him:
"Well, I'm quitting. Can't do it no more."
And he said, "Where you at?"
And I told him and he come on down to Kansas City, that's where I was.
And throws all my shit in a suitcase and says, "Okay, let's go.
You can come back to work the mines with me the rest of your life."
I started crying and he just let me have it, boy.
He told me, "You know, you're being such a baby," you know.
"I thought I raised a man. You ain't nothing but a coward.
Be a man," he says.
-Truth was I was lonesome, scared. -Yeah.
Anyway, I started hitting again after that.
I know.
Came back up and they gave me number 7.
I was glad about it. I hated that number 6.
Yeah.
Look, I don't want no more money from that M&M Corporation and I think that--
-Oh, Mickey, listen to yourself. -You're the one that's--
Man, there is no M&M without the two of us so just--
Yeah, well, you're the one carrying us now.
That ain't true, you know.
You do what you want with it, Rog.
What I'm saying is I just ain't getting there and....
I just can't play no more.
I'm wore out.
Done.
I'm out of the race.
I thought I took pretty good care of myself too.
You did, man.
Damn straight, you did.
Well, anyway...
...he's all yours if you want him.
You go get that fat fuck.
Here is the pitch to Maris.
-Oh, my, he got a hold of that one. -Fifty-eight.
Number 58 for Roger Maris, just two shy of the record.
He took a fastball from Jim Bunting and drilled it into the second deck.
How about that?
Well, I'd like you to come to Baltimore if you could, honey.
Well, I wish I could, but--
You know, the kids have been sick and I can't leave them.
-Yeah, I know. -But I'll be able to see the game.
Oh, yeah? How's that?
Well, one of the TV stations arranged for me to see the game.
Some kind of special hook up or something.
I'll be the only one in Kansas to see you break that record.
Oh, that's great, honey. Oh, that's great.
Listen, you know, if you could come to New York next week...
...you could stay through the Series, that'd be nice.
-I don't know with the kids, it's-- -Hey, Pat.
Listen, I really need you there. Um....
You know, if you could try....
I'll try, Roger.
Do you promise, honey?
I promise.
Okay, then. I gotta go.
So I'll talk to you soon, I love you.
-I love you. -All right, bye.
Two home runs away, Roger. How do you feel about that?
And as the Bronx Bombers arrive today in Baltimore...
...the country braces for the showdown.
No, it's not a showdown about the Yankees and the Orioles...
...but about one man versus history.
And that man is Roger Maris.
He comes into the game with 58 home runs.
Should I arrange for you to go to Baltimore?
-Can he do it? -No.
Well, all of America is watching.
-So Milt-- -Where the hell's Roger?
I don't know, tried him at the hotel, nobody knows.
He promised me an exclusive.
What do you want? I don't know where he is.
Bob, I'm one of the guys that's defended him all year.
Now he stands me up? What's wrong with him?
He promises me an exclusive.
I got a deadline. Now I'm coming in with nothing.
You know I got 15 local papers...
...and God knows how many nationals I'm competing with.
And he doesn't even call? Nothing? Like I don't exist?
-It's not right. -I'm sorry, Milt.
-I can get Mantle. -I don't want Mantle.
Mantle's not the story anymore. Where's Roger, where the hell is he?
I swear to God, Milt, if I knew, I'd tell you.
I'm sorry, Roger's been under a lot of pressure--
You know what, Bob? Spare me that. Everybody's under a lot of pressure.
What do you think my editor's gonna say to me when I show up there empty-handed?
You know, there isn't a man in America...
...who wouldn't give it all up to be playing right field for the Yankees.
Not a man and he doesn't understand that.
So don't give me any sob story...
...about a guy being paid $38,000 just to play baseball.
He's been curt, rude.
He has been sullen, moody and I’ve been giving him the benefit of the doubt.
But I’ve had it, Bob, because now he's making me look bad.
Milt.
What do you mean you don't wanna play tonight?
I don't know, maybe it's time I took a rest, Ralph, l--
You know, I could really use a day off.
I know we got a 10-game lead, but if we win we clinch the pennant.
-I wanna get it over with. -Yeah, I know.
You know Mickey's out. Bob's leg worse, he may need surgery by the end of the year.
The point is I need you.
Well, I'll be there for you tomorrow, Ralph, I just--
You know, I really feel like I could use a day off.
You know, the only reason most of these fans are here is to see you play.
You owe it to them to give it your best shot.
I owe it to them?
What the hell do I owe them, Ralph?
You gotta understand, you mean something to these people.
Good or bad.
And if you quit now, they'll never forgive you.
Ralph, they're never gonna forgive me if I do it.
Is that what you're afraid of?
No, I just want this whole thing to be over.
Look, Rog, I'm not a sentimental-type guy, you know...
...but most of us bang around the game for a while and then we're forgotten.
Ruth, Cobb, Gehrig, DiMaggio.
Those guys were bigger than the game.
And I know that is not what you want.
But right now, whether you like it or not...
...you're bigger than the game.
This is your one shot to go out there and show them what you're made of.
And that you owe to yourself.
I'll tell you what...
...why don't you play the first inning and if you wanna come out...
...you give me a look and I'll take you out.
All right, then.
That sounds fair.
Well, you couldn't have picked a worse night for Roger Maris.
He's got 58 home runs.
He needs two to tie and three to break the great Babe Ruth's record.
But the winds of Hurricane Esther are swirling through Memorial Stadium.
Yes, and as if that weren't bad enough, Mel...
...he'll have to do it in The Babe's backyard where he hasn't had a home run all year.
So sit back, open a Ballantine, because tonight could be history.
Batting third, center fielder, Roger Maris.
Well, Phil, without Mantle batting behind him...
...I wonder if they'll pitch around Maris.
Nobody wants to give up the big home run...
...but I believe it's pride and they'll pitch to him.
I certainly hope so. Well, you know...
...I wouldn't, but that's me.
Okay, and here comes Maris. All eyes are on Rog.
Fifty-eight home runs, but it's a nasty night here in Baltimore.
-Go. -Come on, Rog.
Get a piece of it. -Get one.
Milt pappas looks in.
Here's the pitch.
Get in there. -Go, go, go.
That ball is high and deep to right field.
-No, no, no. -Shit, the wind's got it.
It's going.
Going to be caught.
-Oh, it's gonna be a tough night. All right, let's go.
-Well, guys, come on now. Let's go, Rog.
Shit.
Now batting--
All right, here comes Roger. Blow out to right field his first time up.
You know, I imagine someday...
...someone will write about the month-long...
...day-in, day-out pressure on Roger Maris.
Milt Pappas looks in.
Here's the pitch.
There's one, that ball is high and deep and into the wind.
Does it have enough?
-Come on. -Go, go, go.
He's got it.
That ball is going, going....
It is gone.
Yeah!
Damn it.
-Son of a-- -Bitch.
You haven't missed anything, not at all.
Okay. -He came up the first time--
I didn't know where to go, I got lost--
Number 59.... -Oh! Oh! Oh!
-He did it! Yes! -wow.
How about that?
He's got two more bats, maybe three.
What, all of a sudden you're back on his side?
He's only one shy now, folks. -Way to go, Rog.
My, my, number 59. -It's gone.
Don't go anywhere.
-Hey, great. All right, let's get this, Roger.
Feel great. Way to go, Roger.
Two more, two more. -Good job, Roger.
-Great job, Rog. -Yeah.
Now, that's how we do it here, huh?
What happened? I was in the john.
-Slider, huh? -Yeah, didn't slide though.
That was a good one.
Now batting, left fielder, Yogi Berra.
Hall struck out Maris in the 6th, but he's got another shot here in the 7th.
And Hall has got that crazy side-arm delivery, it's very tough to read.
-Oh, what a swing by Maris. -Strike two.
Boy, I tell you, every pitch could be the one.
One time, Rog.
Holy cow, number 60.
It's good.
-Go on, go. -No, no.
That ball is going....
It is going, it is....
Caught.
Fuck.
It's like Ruth's ghost was pushing it back.
No, I thought he had it.
Too bad. And the way Hall's pitching tonight...
...he'll never get another at bat. It's over.
Oh, what a shame.
And to go out that way, when it was so close.
The wind held it up. Any other night, that's out of here.
So unless the Yanks get a rally here...
...Roger doesn't have a chance to get the 60th in a 154 games, Mel.
We'll see what happens, Phil.
Left fielder, Yogi Berra. It's all we can do.
Let's go, who's gonna start it? Let's start something here.
Come on, let's set something up. Come on, Yog.
Let's go, Yankees. Sit down.
Go.
Come on. Yeah.
Come on, Yog!
Let's go, Yogi!
Let's go.
Here we go, folks.
Top of the 9th, Yanks up 4-2, two outs and on the verge of clinching the pennant.
But nobody's thinking about that. All eyes are on Roger Maris.
You said it, what a story.
The Yanks gotta rally to get Roger another at bat.
And I tell you, something's gonna happen here, I can just feel it.
I'm gonna make a change.
-Time. -Time out.
What's this? Time out on the field.
What the hell is going on?
I think it's time we call it a night. Good job.
They're making a pitching switch.
Whoa, the man with the nastiest pitch in baseball, Hoyt Wilhelm.
Attention please.
They're bringing in Wilhelm.
Don't come in unless they got a lead. What is this?
Son of a bitch is bringing him in to face Rog.
-No, this is bush. -Come on, it's a good move.
What? Schmuck.
Folks, I gotta tell you. That knuckleball is one whoo!
Look, the big glove.
-What, need help? -I hate that knuckleball.
-In this weather, gonna be dancing all over. -If he gets wood on it, it's not going.
Bush leaguer!
All right, Hoyt, here's the deal.
You give Maris the fastball and I fine your ass 5000 bucks, you hear me?
Just give me the ball.
Go get him.
Oh, boy, Mel, I hated knuckleballers. That pitch is something.
I mean, it's got no spin so it dances and floats.
You don't know where it's gonna go.
Let's play ball.
-So, what's this guy throwing? -All right, here we go, folks.
Roger Maris with one final shot at tying The Babe...
...and he's facing the man with the single toughest pitch in baseball.
Wilhelm takes the sign, but we all know what's coming.
Does Roger Maris have one last home run in him?
Oh, he fouled it back.
Rog, we're rooting for you!
-Roger! -Rog, let's go!
Roger had a good cut on that ball, but it's dancing all over the place.
And here is the 0-1.
Wilhelm's got it.
-Out. Too bad, too bad.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention.
Tonight's attendance, 21,032.
The Orioles and Yankees thank you for your attendance.
Son of a gun.
All right, all right, shake it off. Three outs, we're clinched, let's go.
Yeah, yeah.
-Let's go. All right.
-Let's go. Come on, Yogi.
So that's it, folks, a valiant effort by Roger Maris.
But he'll fall one shy of the record.
How about that?
I'm sorry, Mrs. Maris.
I shouldn't have moved my chair. Jinxed him.
-Gave it a hell of a shot. -Yeah. Pressure got to him there.
Artie, you ever play baseball?
No, not really.
That's what I thought.
Hey, Rog.
We just wanna say we're proud to be your teammates.
Way to go, nine.
All right. That's it, Roger.
All right, Roger.
perhaps it may sound corny, but my biggest sports thrill of 1961...
...was seeing Roger Maris hit a weak squib to Hoyt Wilhelm.
Maris's failure to break Babe Ruth's record evokes no great regret here.
If the record is to be broken...
...it should be done by someone of greater baseball stature.
Greater color and public appeal.
Maris is no more than a good big-league ball player.
He's colorless, he's never hit .300 and is often surly.
There just isn't anything deeply heroic about the man.
Is there something to be said...
...about fate on this gloomy night in Baltimore?
Did that last knuckleball flutter just past the sweet spot?
Did the spirit of Babe Ruth stir those gusting winds?
Or was Roger Maris denied because he just wasn't what we wanted?
Maybe some records aren't made to be broken.
Come on, come up.
Where are those drinks? We drink them all.
Okay, press.
Around here, guys.
Congratulations, Rog, great season.
Rog, think you can hit two more before the next eight games?
I don't know, it's tough.
You gotta be disappointed with that swing, huh?
Yeah, but Wilhelm's a hell of a pitcher.
He's got a great knuckleball so....
Roger. Ha-ha-ha. Hey, how are you?
Who do you wanna play? I'm not thinking about that now.
-We got eight games to play. Gonna put two more out?
Well, I don't know. You know, it's the luck of the draw so....
-I'm just happy to be playing ball, fellas. Let me ask you one more.
I can't believe you got a suite. Yeah.
-Oh, here you are. -Thank you, sir.
You gonna wear that hat all night?
No, l....
It's just, uh....
Let me see.
Yeah.
-It's not so bad. -No?
You're just molting.
You see the view? It's real nice.
That's Central Park out there.
-Yeah, I know, it's beautiful. -Yeah, real nice.
-Oh, I got some pictures of Randy. -Yeah?
Some new ones.
He is growing so fast.
The picture of Susan when she lost her tooth.
Look at that.
I didn't do it, Pat.
I just couldn't do it.
All right, listen up.
Cerv's recovering from his surgery, he's done for the year.
And we had to put Mickey in the hospital today too.
His hip's.... It's in real bad shape.
And hopefully, we'll have him for the Series.
If not, we're just gonna have to pick up the slack.
Now we got five games left so let's just make sure we stay sharp.
-All right? Got you.
Let us do it for the Mick. All right.
-Let's go. All right.
Oh, you had it. No, no, put it back.
-Bob, the button. -Shh-shh! Can l--
Stop right there, you got it.
Come on, Rog, go get him.
-Go, Roger. All right.
Your husband's a terrific ball player.
Thank you.
I'm sure The Babe would've been happy it was another Yankee.
No, I don't think Babe would've been happy at all.
Babe loved this record.
-Well-- -It's nice of you to be here.
The center fielder, number nine.
Roger Maris, number nine.
Maris playing center today...
...because Mantle, of course, is in the hospital with 54 home runs.
And I'm sure he's looking on and we wish Mickey all the best.
But today all eyes are on Maris.
There it is.
-Go! -Yeah!
-Don't move, put it back. -What do you want from me, Mickey?
Up the deck for Roger Maris. Number 60 for Rog.
So now two men have hit 60 home runs in a single season.
Both Yankees, Roger Maris and of course the late Babe Ruth.
And Phil, he's got four more games to hit that 61st.
My, my.
Number 60, one more. -I know.
This is getting interesting.
Will Roger bump The Babe?
After hitting his 60th home run, Yankee right fielder, Roger Maris...
...has failed in three games to hit the elusive 61st.
Try as he may, the slugging right fielder couldn't put one into the seats.
And now it's down to one final game.
Will it be Roger, over and out?
We'll find out this Sunday.
You know the difference...
...between hitting a home run and popping up is an eighth of an inch?
Probably less.
God, Pat, I don't know where my swing has gone the last three games.
I just can't seem to hit the ball.
Maybe you're just trying too hard.
Yeah, maybe.
You know, if I hit one tomorrow...
...the ball is gonna be worth 5000 bucks?
Five thousand dollars for a ball?
-Can you believe that? -Oh, my God, it'll be a madhouse.
Yeah.
I wanna do it.
You know, it may not count to everybody else, but I'll know.
I'm gonna hit that home run...
...and you'll be there.
-Yeah. -Yeah.
I will.
Hello, everybody, this is Mel Allen.
Well, you couldn't have asked for a more dramatic finish to an incredible season.
Last game, last chance for Roger Maris.
Will it be 61 in '61? We'll find out today.
Yeah, I got the heebie-jeebies here, I'll tell you.
I can't imagine what Maris is going through.
Look at this crowd, it's pathetic.
The grandstand's filled. Everybody's looking for that 5000 bucks.
-Is Frick coming? -I spoke to his office...
...they said he was out of town.
-What about Mrs. Ruth? -I think she had enough the other day.
Number 39, Tracy Stallard. -Pathetic.
And here it comes.
Only 23,000 fans here to see this.
-Come on, Rog. -Here we go.
Center fielder....
Roger Maris comes to the plate for the second time...
...and they're getting busy in right field.
Here's the wind up.
Fastball in deep to right.
Holy cow.
Go, go, go. This could be it, where is it going?
He did it, I don't believe it! Number 61!
It's unbelievable, Roger Maris. -Yeah.
And they're fighting over it in right field.
How about that?
He ran that out just like it was his first.
Come on, Roger!
-Good boy. -You did it.
-Come on. -History, boys.
Way to go, Roger.
Roger, Roger, Roger.
Roger, Roger, Roger
-Roger, you have to go. -Get out there.
-Come on, this is for you. Come on, get out there.
-Go on, get out there. Get out there.
Who's the guy. -Get out there.
Yeah.
Yeah, take it in.
Hey. No, stay out there.
Come on, the fans are crazy.
Mr. Durante, Mr. Durante.
Hey, Sal. Mr. Durante.
Perfect.
Hey, Sal. Sal, Sal.
-What are you gonna do with the ball? Sell it.
Maybe put a down payment on a house.
Hey, Rog.
Don't you think that ball belongs to Roger or in the Hall of Fame?
Oh, no, fellas, I don't care about the ball.
Sal, sell it, do what you like, get your money.
-Thanks. Rog, Rog, Rog.
Rog, are you serious? You don't care about the ball?
No, I don't need the ball. He could use it more than I could.
How about the asterisk, Rog, you think that's all right?
Well, I don't know, Sam, l.... It's just not my decision.
-Roger. -Roger.
What'd you think about the crowd? Gave you a lot of support.
-Yeah, that was really nice, yeah. Rog.
Roger, do you think you've earned their respect...
...holding up under this pressure?
Oh, gosh, you know, I really-- I don't know, Milt.
I really don't think that's something you earn on a ball field.
-Rog. Rog. -Rog.
Rog, what about next year? You think you can do it again?
Get these fucking writers out of here.
Eh. Fuck you.
-How are you, pal? -Hey, congratulations.
Thanks.
-That was great. -Thanks, man.
Boy, this is some nice joint they got you in here.
-Oh, thanks. -Where's Bob?
Oh, he's in his room clipping his toenails or something.
-Yeah. -Yeah.
-So that was pretty crazy, huh? -Oh, man, the place just went nuts.
Yeah. I saw the guys, pushing you out of the dugout.
Yeah, yeah, they wouldn't let me back in so, you know.
I thought I saw you smiling there a little bit.
-Oh, yeah, a little bit. -Yeah, I caught you.
Yeah. Yeah, it was something else.
Yeah.
Oh.... Tsk.
Wish I was there.
Yeah. Yeah, we all did.
It just didn't seem right without you, Mick.
Well, why aren't you celebrating?
Oh, me and Pat, we're gonna go to Toot Shor's for dinner.
And I just figured I'd see how you're doing.
Wondering if the doctors are gonna have you ready for the Series.
Oh, I don't know. I hope so. I hate it here.
You know, the damn nurses, they wake you up to give you a sleeping pill.
You know?
I hate watching you guys on the tube.
You would've done it too.
You know that.
Bullshit.
It was you, Rog.
You did it.
You son of a bitch.
And nobody can ever take that away from you neither.
No matter what bullshit they try to tell you...
...that record's yours.
You're a good man, Roger.
-Fastball, right? -Fastball, yeah.
-Guess it wasn't fast enough. -You got good wood on that.
Oh, man, it felt good, Mick. I do know the feeling.
Greatest season of my life. Wouldn't wanna do it again.
Down the right field line. Is it enough?
Gone.
There it is, 62.
Touch first, Mark.
You are the new single-season home-run king.
The Maris family watching from their seats.
And now here comes Sammy Sosa, in to congratulate Mark McGwire.
What a classy move.
Two men from completely different backgrounds for this home run chase.
It's Mark McGwire who gets to the top of the mountain first.
Home run number 62 in the Cardinals 145th game of the year.
Well, mixed emotions, I'm sure, for the Maris kids.
Sorry to see the record fall.
But on the other hand, grateful for the fame this season has brought their father.
As I went over to the box and talked to Roger's kids...
...I told them today when I met with the Hall of Fame...
...they pulled out Roger's bat that, when he hit his 61st home run.
And I touched it.
I touched it with my heart.
Now I can honestly say that my bat will lie next to his and I'm damn proud of it.
The separate single-season home run records remained until 1991...
...when Fay Vincent, the commissioner of baseball...
...ordered that there be only one record.
Roger Maris died six years earlier...
...never knowing that the record belonged to him.
This is Mickey Mantle, son.
-wow. -And that's a home run.