by Michael Jawitz, AKA: Grubby Glove
Wally Backman. It was the summer of 1986 and the New
York Mets were flying high, enjoying a lusty .750 winning percentage and living
large. Everyone was happy. Life was good, and the team was coming to my town.
Might I try for a brief conversation with a ball player, or perhaps an
autograph or two? I decided to do so. So on Sunday, August 25, 1986, one of my
baseball cronies and I ventured downtown to San Francisco’s Union Square and
stepped into the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel, there to wait for some of our
New York Mets heroes. Slowly they appeared to join the orange and blue scrum of
eager fans, each and every one jockeying for position in an attempt to engage
his or her favorite. It was getaway day, and the players were stopping in the
lobby to pay the charges for their incidentals at the front desk. They were all signing.
My friend approached Ray Knight, the third baseman who had
been interviewed on the Giants post-game radio after Friday night’s game. The
veteran player, destined to become the Most Valuable Player of that fall’s World
Series, couldn’t have been more gracious as he engaged my pal in conversation.
I was happy for my friend and although I listened to the conversation, my
attention was primarily focused on the lobby elevators, waiting for my favorite
Mets player to exit from one of them. During the wait, I got autographs from
Rick Aguilera, Doc Gooden, Lenny Dykstra and Darryl Strawberry.
Finally, my favorite Mets player, Wally Backman, appeared. He’s
featured here on his 1986 Topps card. He seemed very much at ease amidst the
throng of humanity. I waited for an appropriate time to approach him and found
him to be very accommodating. I told him he was my favorite player, because he
gave 100% on every play. Here before
me was a hustler, a gritty ballplayer who stole bases and didn’t mind elbowing
the opposing team’s player on his way up from the slide. Wally Backman wanted it more. You could see his
intensity in his play. I told him he was my favorite type of ball player, and
that I appreciated his efforts on behalf of the team and its fans. He thanked
me and then signed a card for me. I thanked him, took my treasure, and went on
my way.
That was the season that Wally hit a solid .320 that year in
124 games for the Metropolitans. Perhaps as important were his 14 sacrifice
hits, which demonstrated his ability to move runners into scoring position. His
skills as a drag-bunter and base-stealer were in evidence all season long. That
fall, he hit .333 and had an On Base Percentage (OBP) of .429 in the World
Series against the Boston Red Sox. This performance was sizzling, and greatly
helped the Mets bring home their second World Series Championship Trophy to the
Big Shea.
Not too long ago I had a chance to correspond with some
other Mets fans about Wally Backman. One of them, John Ogg, who hails from Queens,
New York, had this to say: “I was a fan of a lot of those `86 Mets. Wally kept
to himself for the most part, but if you got in his face he'd be ready to
brawl. I used to live down in St. Petersburg, Florida, where they trained
before Port St. Lucie, and ran into him a lot. He was nice with the fans. He and
Lenny Dykstra were like the sparkplugs that got their engine going. Wally
played baseball like it should be played.”
Laura Ann, another Mets supporter, remembers him with
tremendous clarity. “I had the chance to meet Wally at an autograph signing,” she
said. “He not only breathes baseball...he is
baseball. I also got to see him play at Shea Stadium in 1987. I hope one day he
will be Manager of the New York Mets. This team needs some toughness!”
Terry Blackwell is another believer who noted Backman’s “quiet
toughness” and added that “he's got my vote to manage the Mets any day!”
I think of all the people I heard from, Jose A. Otero was
the one who got closest to the essence of the second baseman’s “never say die
attitude” when he said that Wally Backman “always played every game
like it was his last.”
I can’t wait, and I am not alone.
