But one that was exclusive to him touches upon a particular sore spot for yours truly. On the afternoon of July 20, 1958, Tigers righthander Jim Bunning threw a no-hitter at Fenway Park. Raftus vividly describes the final out made by none other than Ted Williams, who hit a fly to right.
“Williams’s classic, smooth swing sends the ball on a high arc towards the right-field bullpen,” Raftus wrote. “The crowd is mesmerized as the trajectory of the sphere continues. Al Kaline, Detroit’s brilliant right fielder, lopes gracefully back to the warning track. It is so quiet you can hear the ‘plop’ as the ball hits Kaline’s glove.”
His eloquence reflects the fact that Jim Raftus, in addition to a career in marketing and sales, is an accomplished writer who has written more than 70 essays for newspapers and magazines, and whose work is regularly published in the Valley Breeze, a Rhode Island weekly.
Anyway, what’s my problem with this? It’s simply that a few thousand games into my lengthy span of viewing major and minor league contests, I have yet to bear witness to a no-hit, no-run game. Bah! (For the record, I refuse to count White Sox righthander Joe Cowley’s 1986 hitless, 7-1 conquest of the Angels, a messy seven-walk, line drive-laden parody of a “no-hitter.”)
The first place where our sporting lives intersected was Dec. 29, 1976, in what was then known as the Providence Civic Center. Providence was the unquestioned epicenter of New England college basketball, and Dave Gavitt’s Providence College Friars were taking on top-ranked Michigan. It was a double-overtime thriller and it was decided when the decidedly unartistic Bob Misevicius banked in a short jumper to give PC what remains its only victory over a No. 1-ranked team.
Being a PC fan in those days meant being a fan of the great broadcaster Chris Clark. “We listened to those games religiously,” Raftus recalls. I can still remember Clark telling us how Ernie DiGregorio was “squeezing up a 15-footer.”
Another Raftus basketball memory I can relate to was formed on April 9, 1978, at the old Boston Garden. John Havlicek was playing the final game of his spectacular 16-year career, I was at the baseline press table, and Raftus was there with his brother, Mike. An emotional Raftus couldn’t bring himself to witness the halftime ceremony, opting instead for a trip to a beer stand, but he rejoined his brother for the dramatic fourth quarter, when Ernie D made it his mission to find Havlicek just about every time downcourt en route to a 29-point farewell.
“A fitting ending to a fabulous career,” says Raftus, and no one can argue with that.
A true sports fan’s saga has got to involve some adventure, and that surely describes the trip Raftus made to Pawtucket’s McCoy Stadium with his 4-year-old daughter, Katy, on July 1, 1982. The occasion was a fascinating matchup between Mark “The Bird” Fidrych and ballyhooed Yankees phenom Dave Righetti, who was rehabbing an injury and wearing a Columbus uniform.
There was a monster crowd and there was no chance of Raftus and his daughter gaining entry. After cleverly maneuvering his car, this pair of fans sat on the car hood and were able to see the mound and batter’s box. Each hurler struck out 12, and Fidrych went the distance.
Recalls Raftus, “Worst seats I’ve ever had at a sporting event, and yet, with my daughter, my most enjoyable memory!”
Raftus and I intersected in a dramatic way on April 20, 1986. It was Game 2 of the opening-round series between the Celtics and Bulls. Coming off a 49-point outing in a losing Game 1, young Michael Jordan put on a spectacular show on this Sunday afternoon, pouring in 63.
“Jordan spun, flew, and exploded everywhere,” says Raftus. “I have never seen, before or since, anyone elevate to the height he did in order to reach his release point. He seemed to hover, and then release.”
But the Celtics did win the game, in double OT. That fact is often forgotten. One favorite tidbit: Kevin McHale made a basket while sitting on Chicago center Dave Corzine.
“A Corzine couch,” confirms Raftus.
One of the great satisfactions attainable for any devoted sports fan is being able to say you had an early glimpse of greatness. So it was that Raftus was in the gallery at Newport Country Club on Aug. 27, 1995, to see 19-year-old Tiger Woods in his quest for a second straight US Amateur Championship. The Kid would exceed expectations,
There was, for example, this 230-yard, uphill 2-iron shot.
“The contact was violent,” Raftus says. “Then the ball launched into the clear blue sky. I heard the sizzle as the ball tore through the prevailing breeze. I’ve watched a decent amount of PGA stars in person since the 1960s. No other shot has ever produced that magnificent sound.”
Kind of wished I’d been there.
There was one final mutual thrill. It was the final day of the 1999 Ryder Cup at The Country Club in Brookline. Team USA was staging its historic comeback.
“I scrambled around to catch as much drama as possible, trying to gauge which match would be the deciding point,” Raftus reports. We both arrived at the 17th, where Justin Leonard would make his legendary 45-foot putt, setting off a wild, and controversial, celebration. Raftus was some 50 yards from the green. I, believe it or not, was in the company of Jordan, who was sitting in an NBC golf cart. Talk about a memory.
Raftus outdid me in the end, however.
“I was privileged to get soaked with the champagne 15 minutes later when the entire Team USA celebrated by popping multiple bottles of bubbly from the The Country Club’s iconic balcony,” he recalls.
What you’ve just read are the tips of our respective sports iceberg memories. No doubt you’ve got plenty of your own. Aren’t we lucky to have sports in our lives?
Here are some wonderful sports memories, with a little help
