Chicago Cubs: One fan recalls the story of Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS

For the first time since the Chicago Cubs won it all last November, I decided to sit down and watch Game 6 of the 2003 National League Championship Series. Here is my story.

Pure ecstasy. There’s not a better way to describe what fans at Wrigley Field enjoyed with one away in the top of the eighth inning of Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS. Their beloved Chicago Cubs were five outs from their first World Series appearance since the end of World War II.

And, really, why wouldn’t they believe? Chicago led the Florida Marlins 3-0 and the team’s horse, Mark Prior, was cruising. On the national broadcast, commentator and big league pitcher Al Leiter actually commented, “He’s mentally strong enough to not allow distractions.”

Distractions.

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First, it was a lazy fly ball down the left-field line. Shortly after, the National League’s best-fielding shortstop during the regular season, Alex Gonzalez, booted a ground ball and the Chicago Cubs themselves breathed life back into the Curse of the Billy Goat.

Before the dust settled, Florida pushed across eight runs and batted around in the inning. It was just the second eight-run frame for the Marlins in well over 1,000 innings played that year. And it came at the perfect time.

Leading up to that fateful eighth, momentum was firmly on the Cubs’ side. Prior scarcely gave fans to have even the slightest cause for concern, dominating the Florida bats with a mix of heat and knee-buckling breaking stuff.

But when the Cubs stumbled, they fell hard. The lore surrounding the franchise and the curse emerged from the ’03 NLCS more alive than ever, dominating Chicago baseball stories until it all changed last November.

More than a decade ago, however, it was the end of the world as we knew it.

The middle innings

As FOX cut back from a commercial break, a plug for Game 6 of the American League Championship Series appeared. For Chicago Cubs fans, ’03 was the Year of Bartman. For Red Sox Nation, however, it was Year of Boone – Aaron Boone, who ended that series and put Boston’s title hopes on hold for one more year.

That rivalry really isn’t what it used to be. The days of the Yankees and Red Sox at each other’s throats seem to be a thing of the past today. The 2004 ALCS – arguably one of the best postseason series in baseball history – represents, for me, a pinnacle of that feud.

With Jeff Conine at the plate, Prior caught him reaching on a breaking pitch out of the zone. They appeal down the first-base line and the umpire rules ‘no swing.’ Fans are going crazy over the call – sure would be nice if there were some way they could see the play again… (just wait, folks, videoboards are only a dozen years away at the Confines.)

Cameras pan the streets around Wrigley between batters and the crowds have begun to assemble. It’s nowhere near what we saw with Chicago in the postseason in 2016 – and that’s striking. You have to chalk it up to social media, I suppose – but with their team just one win from the Fall Classic, the pandemonium seemed, well, nonexistent.

To lead off the fifth, Prior polishes off Pavano on a knee-buckling breaking ball that just freezes his opposite number. Damn, this guy was filthy. After Juan Pierre reaches, he tries to take second on Bako. It does not end well for him. Maybe that’s why he’s behind the dish…

After looking foolish in is own at-bat, the Marlins starter puts it all together again in the bottom of the fifth, striking out the side. Since that run in the first, he’s made easy work of the Chicago offense. I’d sure feel a lot better if this weren’t a 1-0 lead.

Florida has a prime opportunity to open the sixth: Pudge – Cabrera – Lee . Man, talk about a heart of the order. Ivan Rodriguez, soon to be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, batted over .350 in both the Division Series and League Championship series to that point. He was locked in both behind the dish and at it.

Prior mixes pitches like a veteran; fastball on the hands, then at the letters – raises eye level of hitter, then decimates them with hard breaking stuff low and away. All I’m thinking is: he’s cruising – let him go. Whatever it takes. He’s gotten better as the game went on. Filthy.

We’re nine outs away. I’ve got chills.

At this point, it’s Dustiny

Dustiny. That’s pretty creative, right? I chuckled. Kudos to the Bleacher Bum who had that sign.

It’s not talked about now, but Sosa put together a really good set of at-bats in Game 6. After his RBI double in the first, he beats out an infield grounder on a shattered bat. I can’t help but wonder: if Chicago wins it all in 2003, is all forgiven between Sosa and the fans?

I guess that’s another story for another day. The next batter, Moises Alou, steps in and quickly lines a ball to left, giving the Cubs two on with nobody out. Is this where we bury the knife in the Marlins and erase all doubt?

So much for that; a 6-4-3 double play erases Alou as Sosa moves to third. What looked like a key chance to take a commanding lead seemingly evaporates right in front of my eyes.

BUT WAIT.

Dontrelle Willis comes in to face Randall Simon, who might be the most free-swinging player I’ve ever seen based on this game. Good ole’ Dusty Baker counters with the veteran Karros and all of the sudden, Willis lets one fly, it gets to the backstop and Sosa races home to score. Cubs lead it 2-0!

As we open the seventh, Wrigley is about to explode with anticipation. That second run changes everything; the 39,500-plus felt it, I felt it that night – and watching in February 2017. The next batter absolutely crushes a ball but the wind pulls it harmlessly down in left for the out.

Two more flyouts and it’s time to stretch. Bernie Mac leads the Wrigley crowd in ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” improvising with, “Root, root, root for the champs.”

You had to do it, didn’t you Mac?

The calm before the storm

The feeling I get, even knowing full well how this plays out, watching the bottom of the seventh is simple: it’s a done deal. The Chicago Cubs are heading to the World Series.

Bako opens things up with a single right back up the box and Prior gets down a clutch 0-2 bunt to move him to second base with just one away. Willis gets Lofton to chase a pitch out of the zone for the second out before Chad Fox enters to face Grudzielanek.

The gritty second baseman bloops one into center, Bako scores. 3-0 Chicago.

This is really going to happen. Wrigley erupts into chaos. That’s it, the curse is over.

Sosa lines another opposite-field base hit, moving the runner to third. The Cubs have a chance to step on the Marlins’ throats while they’re down, but Alou pops out and angrily tosses his bat in frustration. We’re heading to the eighth.

Fate intervenes

I immediately regret putting myself through this. As soon as we hit the eighth, I get nervous – nauseous almost. It’s awful. Why did I decide to do this again?

The broadcast team opens the eighth by reminding the world 95 years ago to the day, the Chicago Cubs defeated the Detroit Tigers in the 1908 World Series, winning their second-straight title. And, tonight, the team will earn its berth back in the Fall Classic.

How poetic.

A flyout to left accounts for the first out. Five outs to go.

Prior has eclipsed the 100-pitch mark. Every time a ball drifts out of play down the left-field line, I hold my breath. But, alas, they’re just foul balls – for now. Pierre leads things off with a one-out double down the line. He’s literally the last guy you want in scoring position.

Then, it happens.

The Cubs’ veteran outfielder tracks a ball down the left-field line, drifting toward the stands. He seems to have it timed well as he makes a leap against the padded side wall. Fans along the railing reach for the ball, and Alou fails to make the grab.

It’s an inconsequential play. There’s no guarantee Alou even makes the grab, but that’s not how it’s perceived by fans or the commentators.

“Again in the air, down the left field line,” broadcaster Thom Brennaman said. “Alou … reaching into the stands … and couldn’t get it and is livid with a fan.”

It no longer mattered that Prior was twirling a three-hit shutout and was on the brink of leading the Chicago Cubs to the Fall Classic. The right-hander promptly walked Castilo and ball four got past Bako, allowing Pierre to move to third.

At this point, I’m fairly panicked. It feels all wrong now. Everything was so smooth, so easy leading up to this inning. Now, five outs from eternal glory, the wheels have come off. And then, it all burst into flame.

Rodriguez lines a base hit to left, scoring Pierre and cutting the Chicago lead to 3-1. The next batter, Cabrera, hits a ground ball to shortstop Alex Gonzalez, the best-fielder at his position during the regular season. The ball gets on him quickly; a double play isn’t going to happen.

The ball hits off the palm of his glove, rolling away and loading the bases for the Marlins.

You can hear a pin drop in Wrigley Field, except down the left-field line, where fans have started chanting, “Asshole, asshole,” in the direction of Steve Bartman, who sits alone as if he has an infectious disease.

The killing blow

Future Cubs’ All-Star Derrek Lee breaks the Cubs’ spirits entirely with a game-tying double, ending Prior’s night. I’m speechless. I’ve seen the game time and time again, but the sheer magnitude of the collapse is tremendous. Dusty Baker turns to hard-throwing right-hander Kyle Farnsworth to put out the fire and keep the team’s hopes of clinching the pennant alive.

He fails to do so.

After intentionally walking Mike Lowell, Farnsworth serves up a sacrifice fly off the bat of Jeff Conine to give the Marlins the lead, 4-3. Sosa, who makes the catch in right, entirely misses the cutoff man, allowing a runner to advance to second on the play.

A second intentional walk to load the bases brings up Mike Mordecai, who, to be fair, isn’t a memorable big leaguer. A career .244 hitter, he stands in against Farnsworth, one of the most intimidating relievers in the game.

One more out and the Cubs can stop the bleeding. Just one. That’s all we need.

Too bad.

Mordecai lines a ball off the wall in left-center, clearing the bases and blowing things wide open, 7-3. Arguably the biggest collapse in Chicago Cubs’ history is in full-swing and over a decade later, I’m rendered speechless.

The Curse

A meaningless eighth run crosses the plate on a Juan Pierre single. At this point, it doesn’t even matter. The Cubs’ shot at winning their first National League pennant since 1945 has completely disappeared in the minds of everyone watching.

Never mind the fact the team still had a do-or-die Game 7 ahead of them. Not only that, but they would hand the ball to fireballing Texan Kerry Wood, the ace of the staff, in the deciding contest. None of that seemed to matter watching the events of Game 6 unfold.

It was the curse.

To those who never rooted for the Cubs or even the Red Sox don’t understand. After years upon years, decades upon decades of unthinkable losses and meltdowns, you eventually believe in it as much as anything. It’s not rational – deep down we all knew that after that game. We knew it watching Game 7 of the World Series last year when Rajai Davis tied the game with a homer down the line.

But the thought was there.

With the talk of goats and Bartman and a ball grounded through Leon Durham’s legs behind them, the Chicago Cubs can move on, closing the door on being the cursed laughingstock of baseball. But on a cold night in October 2003, cursed was the word on everyone’s mind.