I got started watching baseball in 1984, when I was pregnant and threatening to miscarry and had to stay down for months. I watched the world series and came to love the St. Louis Cardinals and Ozzie Smith.
I can't remember if it was in 1984, 85 or 86, but one of those years the San Diego Padres went against, oh, who was it, the Dodgers? They didn't have a chance.
I think the series went five games. San Diego won only one game. Steve Garvey played every second of every game and I respected him tremendously for that.
But in one game, don't recall whether it was the one game they won, or one they lost, sticks out in my mind and I bet Kurt Bevocoua (sorry about the spelling, it's pronounced Bevawkwa) will never forget it, either.
He wasn't a famous player and not much was expected of him. But he hit a home run, to his shock and everyone else's as well. He was on top of the world as he rounded the bases.
Then. . .later, in the SAME game, he hit another home run. That was simply transcendent, however you spell it. I floated for a few minutes with him and I'm sure he didn't come down for the rest of the game.
I stopped watching baseball when they went on strike a few years after that. I had no patience with that. But I will always remember that game.