Up, Up, and Away: The Kid, the Hawk, Rock, Vladi, Pedro, le Grand Orange, Youppi!, the Crazy Business of Baseball, and the Ill-fated but Unforgettable Montreal Expos by Jonah Keri Read Free Book Online

staggering 135 innings with a 1.86 ERA. This was a classic case of talent scarcity forcing Montreal into putting a player in the wrong spot. It would take several more years for the Expos to develop enough quality talent to curb those kinds of mistakes.
    The first regular-season game the Expos ever played started auspiciously for the underdogs. After Maury Wills led off and struck out looking, Gary Sutherland reached on an error. With two outs, Mack Jones walked. Bob Bailey followed with the franchise’s first-ever RBI, lacing a double to drive home Sutherland, with an error by Mets second baseman Ken Boswell cashing a second run. (That would be the first of three errors committed by Boswell that day, still an Opening Day record.)
    The game turned into a slugfest, with Grant foreshadowing the rapid demise of his Expos career by getting knocked out after 1 1/3 innings pitched. Despite the pitching troubles, the Expos benefitted from a most unlikely hitting highlight. Tied 3–3 heading tothe fourth, Mauch left McGinn in to bat against Seaver—a relief pitcher, facing one of the greatest arms of all time. Seaver left a pitch up, and the lefty-swinging McGinn hammered it. The ball carried and carried, all the way to the wall in right-centre. It hit the top of the wall … and popped right over for a home run.
    McGinn was a first-round pick by the Reds in the 1966 secondary draft (MLB used to hold two amateur drafts, in June and then another, lesser draft in January), a great athlete who lettered as a punter at Notre Dame and also excelled at baseball. He wound up lasting five seasons in the majors, with a lofty 5.11 ERA. Still, he’ll always have his big moment.
    The Expos kept pouring it on, getting two doubles from Jones and homers from Laboy and Staub, with Le Grand Orange reaching base five times. They led 11–6 heading to the bottom of the ninth, their first-ever win seemingly in the bag—until it wasn’t. This was years before every team had a designated closer, and a brand-new team like the Expos wasn’t going to have a Mariano Rivera trotting into games anyway. Instead, they tried to ride Don Shaw, who’d been left unprotected by the Mets in the expansion draft. Shaw had pitched three scoreless innings to that point, and Mauch had nothing resembling a true fireman behind him, so what the hell, see if he can get three more outs. The Mets jumped all over Shaw in the ninth, stringing together two singles, a walk, and a homer on their way to a four-run rally.
    Now leading by just one run, Mauch called on Carroll Sembera, a rail-thin Texan who hadn’t pitched a single major league game the year before and was so lightly regarded that he went unclaimed in the expansion draft and was instead taken in December’s Rule 5 draft—an annual clearinghouse for organizational rejects, or at least players who don’t fit. Sembera quickly poured gas on the fire, walking Amos Otis and giving up a single to Tommie Agee, putting the potential tying and winning runs on base.
    That brought rookie right fielder Rod Gaspar to the plate. Looking back decades later, it seems crazy that the Mets won the 1969 World Series. Gaspar was one of several Opening Day starters who had little business starting for a championship team; he would hit just .228 with one home run that year. In the battle of resistible force versus moveable object, Sembera prevailed, striking out Gaspar to end the game. The Expos were undefeated.
    For baseball-loving Montrealers, this was a big deal.
    “I was in elementary school in Chambly, I’m 12 years old,” said Expos superfan Katie Hynes, cradling a pint while recounting one of her favourite baseball memories. “My principal—and every time I see him … he came to my dad’s funeral, and we still talk about this every time we see each other—he let us listen to the game on the school intercom!
    “In those days, we wore funky hats, it was the ’60s. I remember, he made us stand up at our lockers. We