Long Memories From a Baseball Classic

"We were getting [ticked] off at the umpires," Williams said. "Regardless about the rule book, we thought they should've been take-charge enough to do something about it. There were some guys on the edge. . . . I remember Cal was one of them -- he could get the [temper] with the best of them. He wasn't too happy about it."

Sprinkled throughout the game were stories of individual heroism. Rochester lefty Jim Umbarger entered the game in the 23rd inning, and proceeded to throw 10 scoreless innings, allowing only four hits and no walks while striking out nine.

"He was pretty dominant," Huppert said. "He had a good curveball that night."

Huppert himself caught 31 straight innings before Rochester Manager Doc Edwards saw fit to pinch-hit for him in the 32nd.

"It took about two weeks," Huppert said, "to get my legs back to where I could function again."

Finally, Call Is Made

Behind the scenes, Lietz, the umpire, and PawSox General Manager Mike Tamburro had been trying to get hold of International League President Harold Cooper by telephone at his Columbus, Ohio, home, but -- this being the pre-cellphone (and even pre-pager) era -- were having no luck.

Finally, sometime after 3 a.m., they finally got Cooper on the phone. Told that the PawSox and Red Wings were still playing, Cooper was horrified, and ordered the umpires to halt the game at the end of the current inning, which was the 32nd.

"The whole thing," said Bancells, the Rochester trainer, "felt like some kind of screw-up."

When play was suspended at 4:07 a.m., both managers immediately sent their troops home to try to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before Sunday's game -- which, naturally, was a day game. However, as it turned out, sleep would be hard to come by for Rochester's players, in particular -- since the national media began bombarding the team hotel with phone calls as soon as word began to get around about what had occurred.

"And wouldn't you know it," Huppert said, "the hotel kept putting [the calls] through."

Williams walked off the field lugging behind him that unsightly 0 for 13 -- which remains an all-time record for single-game futility -- and headed for the clubhouse for a well-deserved beer.

"But we had this guy, Mark Corey, who had gotten taken out of the game in about the 13th inning," Williams said. "And when we got back to the clubhouse, all the beer was gone and [Corey] was hammered. I mean, hammered."

One of the youngest players on either team, Ripken needed food more than alcohol or sleep, so he went straight to a nearby Howard Johnson.

"It's the only time I ever remember our postgame meal," Ripken said, "being breakfast."

As they made their way to their houses, apartments and hotels -- with the time now around 5 a.m., and the first hint of sunrise spreading across the horizon -- players from both teams noticed something strange. Cars were beginning to roar to life. The sidewalks were clicking with the sounds of dress shoes on concrete, as well-dressed Pawtucketers were heading off to sunrise services.

It was Easter Sunday, and a glorious morning at that.