The Dodgers and Padres, Dodger Stadium, 9/18/06, four consecutive homeruns.
"Nine to five, San Diego. As expected, Trevor Hoffman sat down, and John Atkins comes in... oh now (a sleeping infant in his fathers' arms is shown on TV), and wish you a very pleasant good evening. Sleeping the sleep of the good child. Nothing quite like it.
John Atkins, among other things, had the Tommy John surgery eight years ago but he's battled his way back. He was originally drafted by Oakland out of Oklahoma State. He lives in West Virginia, and he's 29 years old.
So nine-five San Diego, and the Dodgers are asked to do what they did, but they've run out of innings. Remember, they were down by four, came back to tie, and they're down by four again. (Atkins throws ball one to Kent... Scully continues.) Only now it's the ninth. Jeff Kent with two doubles and a single, three for four, rising to the occasion, seven for twelve in the series.
And a drive to center, going back is Cameron, to the track, at the wall... and gone. (On TV, a man leaving the game can be seen beyond the center field screen, stops in his tracks as the ball bounces in front of him. Priceless.)
So Jeff Kent comes up with a home run, leading off the ninth, his fourth hit of the game. And the Dodgers are now down nine-six. That would also be the third Dodger home run, fastball, out over the plate. And it's gone.
So Atkins is rudely treated, two pitches, one run.
Now, JD Drew coming up with Russell Martin on deck. John Atkins with an ERA of three, had only given up one home run in fifty-one innings. And then Jeff takes him out. So here's Drew.
Strike.
JD struck out, had a fly ball, ground-rule double in the third to left field, walked intentionally, and hit into a force play, one for three.
Bounced that one. One ball, one strike.
One and one.
Two and one.
With Atkins, fastball, change-up and slider.
And another drive to deep right-center and that is gone! Whoa, was that hit! So now it is nine-seven on home runs by Kent and Drew.
What is that line? Do not go gentle into that good night. Well the Dodgers have decided they are not gonna go into that good night without howlin' and kicking, and Bruce Bochy goin' out to the mound to find out what's goin' on. So John Atkins is banished in a hurry, home runs by Kent and Drew, but of course the Padres still have a two-run lead, and all of a sudden, it is Trevor time.
So Hoffman will be making the jog in, we'll be back.
(Break for commercial.)
Well it didn't look like we'd see Trevor Hoffman, after all the Dodgers were down nine to five in the ninth inning, so he stopped throwing, and you wonder when the last time he was interrupted: in other words, usually when he warms up he comes in the game. But he warmed up, the Dodgers looked like they were blown out of the park, so they gave the ball to John Atkins, and now the Dodgers have forced the Padres to bring Trevor in. He has been absolutely magnificent against everybody, but especially the Dodgers. He is fifty-five for fifty-seven in his career. He has saved twenty four straight, and the last time Trevor Hoffman had a blown save against the Dodgers was in April, five years ago.
And a drive into left-center by Martin, that ball is carrying, into the seats! Three straight home runs!
High and out. For Trevor Hoffman, he had allowed only two home runs, Russell Martin's dad is ecstatic, the Dodgers are still a buck short on home runs by Kent and Drew and Martin. And now Marlon Anderson and Julio Lugo and the pitcher spot. And the folks who hung around to ride it out are in for quite a ride. For the Dodgers, five home runs in the game tonight. First time they've done that this year.
And another drive into high, right-center, at the wall, running and watching it go out, believe it or not! Four consecutive home runs! The Dodgers have tied it up again!
(Pause, Dodger Stadium is ecstatic.)
They're coming back in. (laughs) The people in the parking lot have decided they'd better come back. And for Marlin Anderson, what a night! Two singles, a triple and two home runs, a five hit game, and we're nine-nine.
Lugo a drive, but this one is catchable. Mike Cameron.
Can you believe this inning? In fact, can you believe this game?
Marlon Anderson, uncoiling, a five-hit game, and ties it up. Andre Ethier coming up with one out.
(Replays showing the fans in the right field pavilion, Anderson's reaction running to first base, the Dodger dugout in oblivion, Bochy in disbelief of what he's just seen.)
Boy, there is no reason to speak when you see pictures like that. And here is Andre Ethier, and a dazed Bruce Bochy.
Ball one.
Four consecutive home runs in the ninth inning. Jeff Kent, JD Drew, Russell Martin, Marlon Anderson, and we're nine-nine.
Strike.
(The TV camera slow-zooms in on Takashi Saito. His head is in his hands, face
down, and is visibly disturbed.)
So the Dodgers have done what figured could not be done, they were down four-nothing in the first inning and came back, but they had innings to do it. Down four in the ninth, they have come back.
That's a strike.
It is an unbelievable game, and before fifty-five-thousand, eight-hundred and thirty-one, many of whom, quite a few, are out in the parking lot.
Fouled back.
So Penny and Tomko and Beimel and Broxton are not involved. And probably not Saito either. (TV showing Saito, wiping his neck and face off, adjusting his cap, still looking toward the ground.) And Peavy and Embry and Meredith and Linebrink and Atkins: they're not involved. But Hoffman is.
Bounced that. Two and two.
If you want to break down the four home runs, Kent hit his one ball and no strikes. Drew hit his two balls and one strike. Russell Martin hit the first pitch for a home run, Marlon Anderson hit the first pitch for a home run. Two and two.
Foul ball.
Of course Hoffman is human, he's not absolutely invincible. You may remember game three of the '98 World Series, he gave up the three-run home run to Scott Brosius and the Yankees swept. You may also remember this years' World Series will start in the American League, because Hoffman blew the save in the All-Star game and then blew two of his next three.
Ethier a fly ball, shallow center, Blum.
Well here's what makes this really memorable, only four times in Major League Baseball history have there been four consecutive home runs. (TV Stat) And look, they're all forty years ago. The Braves, the Indians, the Twins, and tonight.
And what a memorable game for Marlon Anderson, five for five.
And Furcal, a high fly ball to right, Giles, at the wall. Well wouldn't you know this was gonna go to extra innings? No I don't think you did, not when it was nine-five, in the bottom of the ninth inning. And this crowd is beside itself with joy. You can come down off the wall now, and we'll be back."
(The Padres scored a run in their half of the tenth inning and now lead the Dodgers, ten-nine.)
******************************************
Here's Vin's tenth inning call:
"Ten to nine in favor of San Diego. Mark Bellhorn takes over at third base and will probably bat high up... no he'll bat ninth. And Rudy Seanez the pitcher will bat in the cleanup spot. That way, if there is an 11th inning, Bellhorn would then bat second.
So Rudy, coming in, and he becomes the seventh San Diego pitcher. And it's only fitting I guess, in this rather memorable game, that a former Dodger will come in, a somewhat shell-shocked Trevor Hoffman watches, and Seanez who was with the Dodgers in '94 and '95, that's a long time ago, he's had a tremendous career, he was originally signed by the Indians out of Brawly High School 20 years ago. And he is still at it.
Kenny Lofton is still at it, he'll lead it off. Strike.
Kenny has a single and a double. Hitting .302. Bellhorn well in on the grass at third.
Fastball misses. One ball and one strike.
Gonzalez is deep and guarding the line, so the right side pretty well wide open. And that's ball two.
On deck Nomar Garciaparra and then Jeff Kent. Seanez will be 38 in October. Check swing, did he? Yes he did says Tim Welke, and a two and two count to Ken.
Lofton who had to go right up against the center field wall to haul in that long out from McAnulty, now just trying to get aboard. Two and two.
Ball three.
(pause)
And ball four, and the Dodgers have a rabbit as the tying run.
Kenny Lofton has stolen 27 out of 31, and he draws the walk. Now Garciaparra. And for Bochy, more anxious moments. No lead is big enough. Not four in the first. Not five in the last two innings.
Nomar, hit into a double play, flied to right, doubled, flied to left and struck out. So he's one for five, hitting 303. Jeff Kent, with four hits, is on deck.
Ball one.
Rudy Seanez had been with the Boston Red Sox. Only been in five games with the Padres. He's one and one.
And a strike.
His ratio since coming over to San Diego, you can't really guess much, he's walked four and struck out four. In the American League he was just about two to one, strike-outs to walks. One and one.
Ball two.
On deck Jeff Kent, who's had a huge night. A single, two doubles and a home run.
And now Seanez, wild. Walks Lofton and he's behind three and one, and Bochy is twisting in the wind.
And a high fly ball to left field, it is a way out and gone! The Dodgers win it eleven to ten!
Ohhuhu... unbelievable!
(Long, long pause, Dodger Stadium is going nuts!)
I forgot to tell you. The Dodgers are in first place.
(pause)
I think we've said enough from up here. Once again, the final score, in ten innings, believe it or not, Dodgers eleven, Padres ten. Stay tuned for Dodgers Live and it starts right now. Goodnight everybody."
Chapter Nine borrowed others’ language to suggest the implicit themes of Vin Scully’s work, that his implicit values include:
a belief that democracy must work, that all of us have been created equal
decencies expected that form the foundation for any civil society
that no one is ever really lost to good possibilities
democracy and the individual, with all his/her virtues and foibles
universal humanity
appreciation of difference
tolerance
that goodness will trump evil
The question, to be taken up here, is whether such an overt moral stance undermines the purity of the art?
The case has been made that Scully’s broadcasting is art. The work of Elliot Eisner helped substantiate that case.
“Artists inquire in a qualitative made both in the foundation of ends and in the use of means to achieve such ends. The result of their work is a qualitative whole – a symphony, poem, painting, ballet – that has the capacity to evoke in the intelligent percipient a kind of experience that leads us to call the work art.
Scully certainly meets such definitions and assumptions. Whether one decides that Scully’s moral vision compromises his Art depends upon how one understands the relationship of morality and art.
Mortimer Adler in his Art and Prudence captures much of the points to be made here about morality and art. Adler says that “moral instruction is not the primary function of the artist.” Despite the implicit “morality” of Scully’s broadcasts, they are primarily implicit within the work. In fact as Adler says, “it is impossible…for a work of art…to avoid being a commentary on moral matters.” He adds, “it does not have to be spuriously didactic or homiletical.” Thus, Scully’s work, as all work of art, a commentary on moral matters about it is never spuriously didactic or homiletic.
As Adler says further, “The purely technical judgment…can always be made separately from the evaluation of the work as a whole. We can always ask two questions: How much had the artist to say? And how well has he said it. How great is his work? Depends upon the answer to both.” The answers throughout have been that Scully does both exceptionally well.
“Good work is complex. But its complexity is unified. It is at once subtle and clear. Therefore it is able to reach many levels of audience.” Scully has held the attention of his listeners for fifty years. His subtlety and clarity have been more deeply appreciated year by year. Scully is a consummate artist and his implicit morality only enhances the quality of his work. Like all popular artists Scully “must seek to please all men in the hope that by so doing he will gradually assimilate the weak and the strong.” Scully has done this masterfully.
The summative observation is that “flow” characterizes not only Scully as the artist, but also his very art, and quite often the very experience of the audience. Csikszentmihalyi has limited his description of flow to the artist. The suggestion here is that the idea of “flow” applies equally well to Scully’s art, and quite often the experience of the audience.
Csikszentmihalyi discusses the artist when he says, “integration refers to the extent to which the different parts communicate and enhance one another’s goals. A system that is more differentiated and integrated than another is said to be more complex.” That description certainly applies to the complexity that is Scully, but equally as well to the results that, finally, stand alone. Thus far the book has shown that Scully has integrated standards of rhetoric, composition, story-telling in ways that enhance one another and result in performances that are most complex. Not only has Scully experienced flow, his broadcasts are so well characterized by that quality that tapes and transcripts of his broadcasts capture that great sense of flow.
Csikszentmihalyi is aware that this characteristic of flow can be experienced by the audience. He says, “Quite often people mention experiencing self-transcendence in flow, as when a musician playing a particularly beautiful melody feels at one with the order of the cosmos…” On a personal note I would add that I have a sense of what he means from having seen Marc Chagall’s painting, “I and the Village,” Les McCann’s song, “Trying to Make it Real Compared to What,” having seen the film, “Tender Mercies”, having listened time after time to Vin Scully. I have had that flow experience where there “is a distortion of the sense of time, so that often hours seem to pass by in minutes.” I am at once reminded of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s hope to live in the present above time and I am left with the deep impression that Scully, his art, and from time even I am characterized by such a flow experience. Although this is a personal observation, I do offer it as part of the substantiation of the book’s arguments.
Summation
He has achieved this greatness despite working in the craft of broadcasting, despite working with a subject as common as baseball, despite working with a popular game instead of a fine art, despite working with material in constant flux, despite working so conspicuously with both right and left brain material (suggested by his metaphoric language coupled with biographical and statistical detail) simultaneously. The challenge is so varied, that it eclipses the demands of more obvious art forms. Painters, poets, musicians, dancers, sculptors have much more control of their media. Story-tellers, comedians, improvisators have much more control of their material. Scully creates his masterpieces in the moment, moment by moment to such a degree of brilliance that it can be characterized by its flow, and surely must be recognized as great art.
Perhaps the best proof that it is “the flow” is his willingness to let the crowd noise speak for itself. His economy of expression has served him well. “Swung on and missed, a perfect game!” Eloquence suggests vivid, forceful, fluent speech, and elegance suggests dignity, richness and grace. Scully’s eloquence and elegance are in the sustained moment initiated by those simple seven words—“swung on and missed, a perfect game!”
Scully does not really “rise to the occasion.” Whatever the occasion he responds. Scully respects and accepts every game for what it is. He never pretends. He’ll sell an occasional product because it is his job, and I think he hopes we can all make it out to the ballpark. But he doesn’t try to sell the game. Perhaps such would not occur to him.
The statistics and discussion of match ups, as argued elsewhere, create importance—one detail can mean so much, but they are only used as establishing points for the potential action to follow. While we consider the conflicts and await the action, Scully enlightens us. He lets us know who is injured or ill, and not just players, their family members, the Dodger family, Baseball, may have someone who needs our prayers. Scully is like God. He isn’t just concerned about the ill, he checks out the weather, inspects the field, welcomes the listening audience, observes the paid audience in the stands, figures out what baseball strategies are most likely to be called for in this particular game, analyzes the relationship to all other games and especially the pennant race, checks the line-ups and what the batting order suggests, finds out if any records are being broken at other stadia, brings in relevant perspective from baseball history, occasionally reminds us of links to the world. And he does so with Godlike calmness and equanimity. He’s not only a seemingly omniscient narrator, but a very respectable and respectful one. And while he has our attention, he tells us the truth about the players, teams, games, teaches us insider baseball, entertains us with anecdotes, takes the game seriously, but not too seriously, and enthralls us for the length of his broadcast. He clearly plugs in to some energy source for his art, because at nearly 80 years of age he seems to have unflagging enthusiasm. And during all of this he seems to invent metaphors and other figures of speech. He has an uncanny sense of what detail from any level would be most appropriate to mention in his next breath. He must have an amazing memory and an amazing ability to retrieve just the right connection from that memory.
Thus he finds his story, draws his composition, uses every literate device to combine it all, does it better than anyone else. That there is still more that raises his work to the status of art. Csikszentmihalyi’s was only discussing “flow” in the context of a person, and Rob Johnston was only talking about transcendence in regard to a sense of God’s presence, in being in the presence of God. The flow is also in the work itself. That the transcendence, that the flow is not only in the experience itself but has been freeze framed into Scully’s work, like the Keats’ “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Scully may, indeed, just be a normal person. He does understand the transcendental view of himself as a “conduit.” Broadcasts do become in the present above time. He repeatedly “recreates the foreworld again (Emerson).”
Who knows best? the public or the sophisticated individual critic? “The people” decided Rockwell was perhaps America’s greatest artist. Art critics reviled him. There has been some new revisionist appreciation of his work, an understanding that he knew the classical works, and that there was more an edge to his work than the description “kitsch” would suggest. Rockwell is used only as an analogy, not to make the case for two artists. But a point applied to Rockwell is most germane to an appreciation of Scully’s work—his captivating word “pictures” have not been diminished by the commonplace qualities of the national pastime. He has synthesized the traditions of storytelling, composition, and rhetoric, he has done so with great style, and his body of work can be characterized by a quality of energy and flow that are so consistently transcendent, that he has created a body of work that demands much greater attention. His work must be archived. Anything less would be sinful.