Bill Nowlin's Memories

My main memory of the year was attending the season's final four games. That was a roller-coaster, with them losing the first two but then winning and clinching at the last moment like the Cardiac Kids they were. I wasn't much more than a kid myself, younger than almost anyone but Ken Brett at age 22. I had to leave for the University of Chicago on a late-night bus the very evening of October 1, but I still made the game. I went with my younger sister Lisa who was 15. I don't have any idea where we sat and wasn't wise enough to keep the ticket stubs, but I do know that late in the game I led her down into the lower box seats. We were on the third base side in front of section 24. I can tell you that Red Sox security had no idea what was about to happen. We stayed in the aisle and worked our way down to the very front couple of rows.

The moment Rico caught the ball for the final out, I sprang over the fence and ran to the mound. I couldn't say now whether I had that in mind beforehand or if it just happened spontaneously. Whatever the impulse, many others had the same impulse. I found myself out on the field for the first time in my life, and was one of the first 20 or so people to get to Jim Lonborg. I patted him on the back, probably saying something inane like "Good job!" and then saw that there were hundreds of people flooding out from the stands. I got out of there quick, before I was mobbed myself. I met up with my sister back by the third base foul line and saw people running all over the field. I ripped a handful of grass out of the field (sorry about that!) and stuffed it in my pocket - but haven't got the slightest idea what I did with it later. People were tearing up the scoreboard; that didn't seem like a good idea. There were about 20 or so people who were climbing up the screen in back of home plate, up toward the broadcasters in the sling that underhung the roof. That seemed like a REALLY BAD idea. People in the booth were waving at them to get down. It's a wonder the screen didn't give and that a couple of kids didn't get killed.

We were all pretty excited. Even now, I don't ever remember seeing a single policeman or security person. Maybe if we'd stayed longer, we would have. Sooner or later, they must have had to clear the field. We left pretty soon, since I still had to get back to Lexington, get my gear together, and then get back to the bus station for the late bus, which I think left around 11 pm. Then we heard that the Tigers had lost and the Red Sox were in the World Series for sure.

I never saw a '67 Series game, and most of the fans watching in the student union building (I didn't have a TV then) were Cardinals fans. And it didn't work out the way us Bosox fans hoped. But it was still a great, great year - one I was happy to help chronicle while working with Dan Desrochers and the 60-plus members of SABR who created the book we published earlier this year.

Bill Nowlin