Keith Hernandez had a bad cold and Davey started a young rookie, Dave Magadan, and he batted in Keith's usual third spot in the order. Magadan was a former Golden Spikes Award winner from the University of Alabama, and had batted .300 or better in every minor league season since turning pro in 1983. He singled in his first plate appearance during chants of, " We want Keith! "

It was Doc Gooden's turn in the rotation to take another crack at clinching it for us.

The game was scoreless in the third when Lenny Dykstra and Wally Backman lead off with singles, bringing up Magadan who promptly singled in Dykstra on Dennis Eckersley's first pitch. Toilet paper sailed in from the upper decks. Darryl Strawberry later singled in Backman to make it 2-0. Magadan also drove in Dykstra in the fifth to make it 3-0.

Magadan singled again in the 7th and was replaced by pinch-runner, Stan Jefferson. Jefferson later scored an unearned run, making it 4-0 and Hernandez entered the game so he could be in there for the final out. The Phillies were losing.

Rafael Palmeiro hit a 2-run homer in the eighth, making it 4-2. The ninth would have more drama as a result.

Doc had struggled with his control all night and his lead-off walk of catcher Jody Davis marked his fifth of the game. Dunston’s groundball forced out Davis at second, but Chris Speir's hit-and-run single pushed Dunston to third.

Davey Johnson visited the mound with help ready in the bullpen. The visit was brief with Davey saying only a few words to Doc. He patted him on the leg and quickly trotted back to the dugout. Under other circumstances, I think Davey would have taken out Gooden and gone to a bullpen that had served him so well, but symbolically left the man who meant so much on the mound to have this great moment.

Gooden hardened and struck out pinch-hitter, Jerry Mumphrey on three pitches for the second out.

Both teams warily observed the mass of people who crowded every available space closest to the field in anticipation of the final out. It was as if we would become part of a Greek Tragedy whose actors only looked to survive the last scene as an assemblage surged to stage's edge poised to invade and become the final act.

Right fielder, Chico Walker, was the hitter. He took a ball, then fouled off two straight pitches into the stands as the noise level rose with every pitch. Walker then hit a soft ground ball to Backman. Wally moved to his left and anxiously dropped to both knees making the play. His throw to Hernandez was almost intercepted and returned for a score by one of the thousands of fans who entered the field when Walker hit the ball.

I didn't see anything else as humanity cascaded over the dugout roof. I already held our kit in one hand anticipating a quick exit. However, any fear I had turned into fascinated bewilderment as I observed the screaming, maddened legions on the field, seemingly uniformly clad in blue jeans and Mets jackets. The mob now ruled.

Davey didn't go out to the field and was standing next to me in the dugout and he looked with great concern to the field for any sign of his players. Carter, now helmetless but incredibly still with his glove, appeared at the top step and we drug him down into the dugout and pushed him toward the tunnel. A few more players appeared and we decided to exit ourselves. Surely, Mel Stottlemyre went out for Gooden.

There were plenty of the specials in the tunnel to make certain no one could follow. Dave Martinez of the Cubs had pinch run in the ninth for Speir and was leaving the field through our tunnel. He couldn't even get back to his own dugout.

There was one casualty as a fan leaped onto Aguilera's right shoulder as he was leaving the dugout to run onto the field. A potentially disastrous injury lasted only a few days.

A celebration ensued in the clubhouse, with the media greatly outnumbering Mets. Champagne was sprayed everywhere and on everyone. Many observers say it was one of the wildest celebrations in memory. Mitchell wore this ridiculous-looking Mr. T scalp piece. I had reason to celebrate also, as trainers are routinely voted full shares. I was getting married in the off-season and I could pay-off my Buick Regal.

Champagne burns terribly when it gets into your eyes, and mixed with beer and poured on you is quite potent. My fiancé, Tracy, fortunately drove us to the celebration in Port Washington at Finn MacCool's Restaurant.

Knight's wife, Nancy Lopez, came also. The owner of the restaurant, Connie O'Reilly, an avid golfer was more taken by Lopez than any of the players and sought to impress her by bringing out his Dom Perignon. O'Reilly was crushed when Nancy said that she couldn't tell the difference between it and the champagne she'd had at the stadium.

Tracy got me home. Luckily for both of us, the small basement apartment we shared was less than a block away. I do not remember leaving. Revenge of the Baseball Gods came the next day's game was scheduled for the afternoon. Get-away days for the Cubs were scheduled in the afternoon to accommodate their own day games. My saviors were two blueberry pop tarts and a big glass of milk, and I left the apartment before 8AM. The clubhouse coffee got me through the day. Now I knew what Ed Lynch meant when he described coffee as "the Nectar of the Gods". Tracy didn't fare that well either as she was still in what she slept in when I got home that evening after the game.

Charlie Samuels celebrated with the rest of us until the realization hit him-he would have to clean up this mess. The task he almost gloatingly thought he had avoided on the last road trip was now upon him with a day game up next. Amazingly a clean clubhouse greeted everyone the next morning. Charlie left the big metal bins that held the champagne.

The field faired far worse as the marauders that took over the night before took much of the Shea Stadium grass home with them. Huge chunks of earth were removed from the infield and you could almost see tears in the eyes of the grounds crew. Extra sod had even been placed in the bullpen in anticipation of such a calamity, but they even got that. More sod didn't arrive until 7 a.m. A huge coffee dispenser sat on a cart on the centerfield warning track. Pete Flynn and company worked all night long and it was ready for the 1:30 game. But many feared a bad hop in the playoffs.

Moments before the game, Mitchell laid prone on one of our tables in the training room. He batted clean-up and drove in a run. HoJo's 3-run homer sparked a 5-0 shut-out against the Cubs and a young righthander, Greg Maddux.

About three weeks later, we flew to Houston to open the playoffs.

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