19 years ago tonight, I was eating dinner at on old haunt craning my neck up to watch this little tiny POS 19″ TV that didn’t have the best reception. Mark McGwire was digging into the batter’s box and he had 61 home runs to his name.
It was a magical chase and some will argue that it has long since been tainted, and that is fair, but it made that Summer of ‘98 magical. Whether he ever enters Cooperstown or not, he was one of the best power hitters I ever saw. Watching him embrace Rogers Maris’ kids and family after #62 sailed over the left field wall told me all I ever needed to know about how special it was to him.