The great lefthander Sandy Koufax of the Los Angeles Dodgers pitched a perfect game 51 years ago Friday. It was at home against the Chicago Cubs. As usual, Vin Scully called the game. Scully, who is now 88 years old, will conclude his 67-season run as the voice of the Dodgers in a game on October 2 in San Francisco against the Giants. I bring up Koufax’s perfect game of long ago because Scully’s call of its last three outs was just about perfect. If you want to discover the soon-to-retire Scully, who is merely baseball’s greatest announcer, tune in his
play by play of those final outs.
The two teams entered the ninth inning with Los Angeles leading, 1 to 0. No Cub had reached first base; every Cub who came to the plate had made an out. So a perfect game was in sight—each of the three batters scheduled to hit would have to make an out. And who better was there in baseball to get those three outs than Koufax, author of three no-hitters already in his sensational career? On the other hand, baseball being baseball, maybe a batter could reach first base, denying Koufax a perfect game. Maybe the Cubs might score a run, tying the game and sending it to the bottom of the ninth? Maybe they could even take the lead and hold it and actually win the game?
Those facts and possibilities were evident to everyone. They would made for high drama, as Scully understood.
Thus, Koufax, facing the first hitter in the inning, Chris Krug, throws two quick strikes. The pitch count favors Koufax. So here’s Scully on Koufax: He “lifted his cap, ran his fingers through his black hair, and pulled the cap back down, fussing at the ball.” Fussing, Scully adds, in the presence of “29,000 people in the ball park and a million butterflies.” Five pitches later Koufax has Krug struck out. And Scully declares: “He is two outs away from a perfect game!”
On the second batter, Joe Amalfitano, Koufax again throws strikes on his first two pitches. Scully’s play-by-play: “Koufax, with a new ball, takes a hitch at his belt and walks behind the mound. I would think that the mound at Dodger Stadium right now is the loneliest place in the world. Sandy, fussing, looks in to get his sign.” And on that next pitch, Amalfitano strikes out. Scully says of the man atop the loneliest place: “He is one out away from the promised land.”
And then on the third batter, Harvey Kuenn, the count is 0-and-1 when Koufax “tried so hard” with his next pitch “that his hat fell off.” Says Scully, “You can’t blame the man for pushing just a little bit now. Sandy backs off, mops his forehead, runs his index finger along his forehead dries it off on his left pants-leg. All the while, Kuenn just waiting.” And then, with the count 2-and-2, Koufax perfectly pitches his last pitch. Scully’s call: “swung on and missed, a perfect game!”
It has taken Koufax 7 minutes to throw 15 pitches, the last of which secures the third out and the perfect game. Scully then says nothing for 38 seconds, letting the cheering crowd take over his mike. And then he speaks:
A bit corny with the strikeouts, but Scully’s play-by-play of that half inning is one for the ages. And remember, it was a first draft—and, of course, the only draft. You can see why the baseball writer David Sheinin once said this about Scully’s rendering of those last three perfect game outs: “To hear Scully call the ninth inning . . . is to make a baseball writer contemplate a career as a roofer.”
