June 19, 1994. It was, I imagine, a night like pretty much any other early summer night along the banks of the Flueve Saint-Laurent. As 15,092 happy fans filed into Stade Olympique, one imagines their happy thoughts. “Sacre bleu! We knew they would be good, but this good? Oh la la.” The labor unrest that would rip away their 70-44 season later that summer was but a distant nagging concern, if that.
There was nothing particularly noteworthy about that evening’s opponent: A Phillies team struggling to stay at .500, which would finish the shortened year much worse than that. Perhaps some were excited to see the great former Met Lenny Dykstra, who had mounted a valiant MVP campaign the year before, coming in second to the subsequently disgraced Barry Bonds. But most were probably just happy to have a night of sport, the Canadiens’ disappointing season having finally faded a bit. Baseball that year was strictly an indoor affair at the Big O, with the roof still permanently closed as a result of the concrete slab incident, but the concession stands still promised cold Molson and some confection or other imagined by Claude Brochu, who knew his food better than his baseball.
Alas, it was not to be the Expos’ night. By the top of the fourth, Jeff Fassero was already behind 6-0 and would soon be pulled by Alou. To the extent they were still paying attention, those left in the stands hardly could have known the import of what was about to occur. With his 22-year old countryman, Pedro Martinez, presumably watching from the opposing dugout, Mariano Duncan drew his second walk of the game, and his 17th of the season. John Kruk and Pete Incaviglia stranded him on first, but it did not matter. Fassaro was done. The Expos were done. At least for that night.
As he trotted to the dugout to get his mitt, could Duncan have known what would follow? As it turned out, that uneventfual night in Montreal would be the last time that Duncan would draw a walk as a Philly or, for that matter, for more than a year. For the rest of the 1994 season – 105 more plate appearances – and the first two thirds of 1995 – another 220 plate appearances – Duncan would not draw another free pass. Not until his third at bat on August 29, 1995 would Duncan, now a Cardinal, manage a walk on 9 pitches. Always a free swinger, sure, but over a year? Month in, month out, he was good for a walk or two every week. How could a year go by? He drew four more walks that year, and another 20-something in the short remainder of his career, probably leading many to wonder just what the heck had happened during those 335 consecutive plate appearances.
Eduardo Nunez was a boy of seven at the time, with baseball aspirations of his own. Surely, within a few years, he started hearing the whispers that Duncan had heard on the very same dirt fields – “No puedes caminar desde la isla, Eduardo. Get that bat off your shoulder. Mariano Duncan never watched pitches like that.” Could he have dreamed that he too would, someday, leave the island as another six-foot tall second baseman following in the deep footfalls Duncan had left behind?
It is difficult to say. In his last at bat of the night last night in Fenway Park, Eduardo Nunez passed the halfway mark to Duncan’s streak. With his 168th consecutive PA without a walk, there is but a hair’s breadth separating Nunez’s BA from his OBP. Will he catch his countryman? Will his role as cleanup hitter tonight make him an IBB candidate with an open base? The script is not yet written. All we can do is watch . . .
There was nothing particularly noteworthy about that evening’s opponent: A Phillies team struggling to stay at .500, which would finish the shortened year much worse than that. Perhaps some were excited to see the great former Met Lenny Dykstra, who had mounted a valiant MVP campaign the year before, coming in second to the subsequently disgraced Barry Bonds. But most were probably just happy to have a night of sport, the Canadiens’ disappointing season having finally faded a bit. Baseball that year was strictly an indoor affair at the Big O, with the roof still permanently closed as a result of the concrete slab incident, but the concession stands still promised cold Molson and some confection or other imagined by Claude Brochu, who knew his food better than his baseball.
Alas, it was not to be the Expos’ night. By the top of the fourth, Jeff Fassero was already behind 6-0 and would soon be pulled by Alou. To the extent they were still paying attention, those left in the stands hardly could have known the import of what was about to occur. With his 22-year old countryman, Pedro Martinez, presumably watching from the opposing dugout, Mariano Duncan drew his second walk of the game, and his 17th of the season. John Kruk and Pete Incaviglia stranded him on first, but it did not matter. Fassaro was done. The Expos were done. At least for that night.
As he trotted to the dugout to get his mitt, could Duncan have known what would follow? As it turned out, that uneventfual night in Montreal would be the last time that Duncan would draw a walk as a Philly or, for that matter, for more than a year. For the rest of the 1994 season – 105 more plate appearances – and the first two thirds of 1995 – another 220 plate appearances – Duncan would not draw another free pass. Not until his third at bat on August 29, 1995 would Duncan, now a Cardinal, manage a walk on 9 pitches. Always a free swinger, sure, but over a year? Month in, month out, he was good for a walk or two every week. How could a year go by? He drew four more walks that year, and another 20-something in the short remainder of his career, probably leading many to wonder just what the heck had happened during those 335 consecutive plate appearances.
Eduardo Nunez was a boy of seven at the time, with baseball aspirations of his own. Surely, within a few years, he started hearing the whispers that Duncan had heard on the very same dirt fields – “No puedes caminar desde la isla, Eduardo. Get that bat off your shoulder. Mariano Duncan never watched pitches like that.” Could he have dreamed that he too would, someday, leave the island as another six-foot tall second baseman following in the deep footfalls Duncan had left behind?
It is difficult to say. In his last at bat of the night last night in Fenway Park, Eduardo Nunez passed the halfway mark to Duncan’s streak. With his 168th consecutive PA without a walk, there is but a hair’s breadth separating Nunez’s BA from his OBP. Will he catch his countryman? Will his role as cleanup hitter tonight make him an IBB candidate with an open base? The script is not yet written. All we can do is watch . . .
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