The New York Yankees and Brooklyn Dodgers generated World Series excitement in six encounters between 1941 and 1956. But nothing ever compared to the perfect game thrown by one of the lesser-known pitchers in their last meeting.
Yankee victories in 1941, 1947, 1949, 1952, and 1953 had been led by luminaries including Joe DiMaggio, Tommy Henrich, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Red Ruffing, Allie Reynolds and Whitey Ford. Their 1955 loss to the Brooklyn team after a two games-to-none lead suggested that their Fall dominance had given way to the storied Boys of Summer in their primes. DiMaggio and the famed Reynolds-Raschi-Lopat Yankee pitching rotation were all gone, while the Series-hardened Dodger veterans included Jackie Robinson, Gil Hodges, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella, PeeWee Reese, and a newly overpowering 27-game winner, Don Newcombe.
The results of the first two games in 1956 seemed to strengthen the impression of the ending of an era. Ford was defeated in the first game, while the second game starter, righthander Don Larsen, failed to survive the second inning in a crushing Yankee loss. But Ford and Tom Sturdivant threw complete game victories to rally the Yanks to tie the Series at two games apiece.
That set the stage for another chance for Larsen, who had joined the Yankees the previous year and had won 11 games in 1956. (It would prove to be his career high.) Opposed by first-game winner Sal Maglie, Larsen proceeded to retire all 27 batters he faced. He had outstanding fielding support on two or three sharply hit balls to the infield and one memorable drive run down by Mantle in left-center field. Meanwhile, his teammates gave him a narrow 2-0 lead, half of it on a home run by Mantle, who, incidentally, achieved superstar status that year.
As he worked on pinch hitter Dale Mitchell with two outs in the ninth inning, the Yankee Stadium crowd of over 64,000 (and likely the national television audience) was as silent as such a gathering can be. Mitchell took a called third strike, catcher Berra raced to the mound and leaped on the much taller Larsen, and players and fans gave the pitcher the sustained ovation he had earned.
No-hit games are rare enough, and there had never been one in a World Series. As for perfect games--no walks, errors, or any reaching base--there had been only three since 1900, and none since 1922. Larsen, a so-so pitcher with only occasional flashes of excellence, had pitched a masterpiece that would give him a special place in baseball history. Fifty years later, there have been many more no-hitters, and even a modest increase in perfect games, but no one has pitched either under the uniquely stressful conditions of a World Series.
