Well it seems to be becoming an annual tradition, another spectacular burst through September for these Brewers under the leadership of Craig Counsell. Now for a second year in a row, the Brewers are surging through the last month of the season on a torrid pace, trying to achieve a playoff spot. It really hasn't been the norm for Brewers teams of my youth, as I was used to seeing them fade this time of year than climb. However there was one memorable exception for me, and the current Brewers teams invoke those memories and comparisons to another special fall push.
I'm in an adult's body, but the truth is, as everyone who knows me can attest, i'm still just a kid. And for this kid, the memories of the first pennant push of his life are still crystal clear. As the precious days of the summer of 1992 were dwindling down to a breezy few, there was 8 year old Armen, cheering on his hometown Milwaukee Brewers, on the shoulders of his dad on the 3rd base line in County Stadium on September 27th. He had to hold me up because the crowd just erupted with a frenzy of excitement, not as much a burst, but an energy that was building in waves....and as soon as he held me high enough to see over the crowd I captured a memory that is still with me. The great Oakland A Ricky Henderson, then Tony LaRussa, then pitching coach Bob Welch all getting tossed one after the other. I had been to other games when I was younger, but this is the one I really first remembered. The Brewers rode a Greg Vaughn homer and a Doug Henry save to 5-3 victory, narrowing the gap between them and the Blue Jays to 2.5 games with 7 to go.
The Brewers would end up falling short of the AL East that year and finished in 2nd with 92 wins, back when there wasn't a wild card and you had only 1 avenue to the playoffs, but it capped off the most exciting Brewers season of my young life and one of the great September surges ever.
The 1992 Brewers were a very interesting team, mixing a unlikely brew to find success. Except for Molitor and Yount who were both entering the back ends of their careers, the well known stalwarts of the 80's Brewers were long gone. It was the first year for a young manager named Phil Garner, who enjoyed unexpected first year success much like the manager who came before him, Tom Trebelhorn. The Brewers had finally rid themselves of a young talented headache named Gary Sheffield, who quickly saw massive success when he first arrived in San Diego, and as a team had many deficiencies of their own. As a team they only hit 82 home runs, a very small number by the standard of the times and an extremely tiny number now. They relied on 256 stolen bases as a team (another number that is quite unusual these days) and a great young pitching staff who relied on deep quality starts and chewed up innings like pac-man. Three Brewers pitchers that year logged over 230 innings pitched...news flash: you will never see that anymore either (sensing a theme here?).
There were memorable moments - a young Cal Eldred winning 2 months worth of starts after being a mid-season call up, a young shortstop named Pat Listach winning Rookie of the Year, a 22 run outburst in Toronto, and of course, a moment sports fans in Wisconsin will never forget, Robin Yount's 3000th hit. Although they couldn't catch Toronto (the eventual World Series Champion) they provided 4 weeks of some of the most exciting baseball of my young life. Unfortunately that team was not built to last, and saw futility until deep into the new millennium. However it seems sports fans in this state were always provided by the sports gods...for that was the fall that a young, wild, unbridled stallion of a gunslinger named Brett Favre would get his start 100 miles north.
The great thing about baseball is it connects moments in history together, because it's a timeless game. History is woven through the grass, the fields, the stories, the people. Time is only measured in outs. So if you can stay alive and keep the rally going, time will never pass. Just keep the rally going, and you can stay forever young. So here's to the final days of summer, and a great September that lasts forever.
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