SECAUCUS, N.J. — Two men, both in their 60s, sit on a park bench chatting with the languid ease of longtime friends, occasionally breaking into fits of laughter. They could be any pair of suburban dads whose kids have grown up and left the house, maybe out for a casual stroll after a morning on the links. The only clue to their connection is that they’re both in exceptionally good shape.
Bill Buckner and Mookie Wilson, though both more than 25 years removed from their final seasons in Major League Baseball, still look to be at their playing weights. They caught up one weekday afternoon late last month, some 30 yards from a busy horde of camerapersons and lighting technicians and producers and directors prepping to shoot the ex-ballplayers in a new postseason promo for MLB Network. Soon, they would move to a different park bench to film one scene of the ad, which shows Buckner making a series of good catches in everyday life, to Wilson’s amazement.
Every baseball fan knows their backstory: Wilson hit the ground ball that went through Buckner’s legs in the 10th inning of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, earning the Mets a thrilling comeback win en route to the franchise’s second world championship and prolonging the Red Sox’ storied drought. Never mind that the game was already tied thanks to a Bob Stanley wild pitch moments before, or that there was a whole Game 7 still to play, or that Wilson might have beaten Buckner to the bag anyway. The play lives forever in baseball infamy, and Buckner, who played parts of 22 seasons and tallied 2,715 career hits, is now known mostly as the man who let the 1986 World Series slip through his wickets.
“At some point you have to realize that it’s just a game, even if people don’t understand that one person doesn’t lose the World Series,” Buckner said. “I had to live with the fact that I was getting blamed for something that really didn’t happen. It was just how the stars lined up, with Boston and New York, and Boston (nearly) 100 years from winning. You have to get the point where it doesn’t mean that much.”
“In all honesty, I thought it was something that a week later would be forgotten about once the dust cleared,” Wilson said. “I underestimated the power of sports in people’s minds, and what it means in people’s lives. I didn’t appreciate that part of it. Yeah, we won, but I didn’t appreciate the significance of that particular game, that particular series — what it meant to both cities.
“I guess it’s human nature you only remember the last thing — you forget everything that led up to the last play. That’s been my beef with the whole situation: People forget about everything that happened up to that last play. And that’s a lot of the reason why I felt uncomfortable initially. But as we got to talking more, I think that was very good for both of us.”
Buckner and Wilson shared a mutual respect in their playing days: Buckner, as a first baseman, liked talking to guys who reached base, and Wilson had played Class AAA ball with Buckner’s brother Jim. The pair began making appearances together shortly after their careers ended in the early 1990s, first at private events, then autograph shows and TV gigs. But it took some time for the awkwardness to subside.
“Occasionally someone would say something that kind of pushed the wrong button,” Buckner said. “I think that made Mookie uncomfortable a little bit, too.
“If Mookie wasn’t the kind of person and quality guy that he is, I would never have even considered doing this. I took a lot of heat, so I’ve got paid back a little bit, made a little money, helped send my kids to college. If I had to do it over again, I wish it would’ve been different — when you’re a kid, you dream about being in the world series and hitting a home run in the seventh game. In reality, that doesn’t happen that often.”
(MLB Network)
Over time, Buckner and Wilson noticed enough parallels in their lives that Wilson called it “kind of creepy:” A shared Christian faith, similar family situations, common values. They talk to each other more now than anyone else they knew from their playing days, and call each other at home to catch up if they haven’t seen each other in a while.
“We had Mookie and Bill here about five years ago, when we did a series — MLB’s 20 Greatest Games — and the chemistry between them was really noticeable,” said MLB Network President Rob McGlarry. “I think when you see this spot, that’s what kind of jumps off the screen: These two guys who were part of an iconic play in baseball, 30 years later, have developed this friendship.
“They’ve kind of accepted and celebrated this moment that they shared — it’s one of the most memorable moments in baseball history. I think Buckner’s at peace with that.”
(AP Photo/Stan Grossfeld/Boston Globe)
Indeed, though Buckner — a professional competitor, after all — still wishes he had secured that baseball, the perpetuity of his misplay in public consciousness has helped him reconcile both the error and the fickle nature of the sport. He referenced former Pirates first baseman Al Oliver, an oft-forgotten contemporary with similar career numbers.
“The thing is, a lot of people remember me as a player who probably wouldn’t remember me if I hadn’t gone through this thing,” he said. “People say, ‘Buckner was involved in that World Series but you know, it really wasn’t all his fault, he was treated unfairly, and he was a really good player.’
“That’s how I feel about it now. Why fight it? Why worry about it? it’s actually been fun — dong Curb Your Enthusiasm, doing this commercial — I’m sure people will get some good laughs out of it…. Life is a lot of hard knocks. There are a lot of worse things happening than losing a baseball game or making an error, so it puts things in perspective. You learn forgiveness, patience — all the things you have to do to survive.”
