Copyright Santa Ana Orange County Register
Oh, those Where Were You When moments that live, rent-free, in our hearts. They can stem from the toughest of times … or from shared experiences of delirium. I bet you remember exactly where you were and whom you were with and, more, how you felt at 8:38 p.m. on Oct. 25, 2024. I just know you recall with, crystal clarity, where you were when Freddie Freeman, hobbled by a sprained ankle, hit the first walk-off grand slam in World Series history. The shot felt around Southern California, coming with two outs in the 10th inning and lifting the Dodgers to a 6-3 come-from-behind victory over the New York Yankees. Apparently a lot of you have been telling Freeman where you were, because he told ESPN recently that when fans approach him now, they often share their experiences of having watched him line the first pitch he saw from left-hander Nestor Cortes into the right field seats, sparking eruptions among crowds – yes, crowds, plural – all around the region. At Crypto.com Arena, the familiar notes of Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” were going to play after the Lakers’ victory over the Phoenix Suns – but also before. The city’s winning anthem came early, during a break in the action, when the Fox broadcast was put on the Jumbotron so 18,997 purple-clad Lakers fans could delight in seeing Freeman circle the bases. And at SoFi Stadium, when the 15,804 family, friends, teachers and neighbors who showed up to see Garfield High defeat Roosevelt High in the East L.A. Classic football game cheered together when Freeman’s slam appeared on the video board as the teams were trotting to their locker rooms for halftime – and just before the Black Eyed Peas performed. Talk about a good night. Also at Charter Oak High School in Covina, where Southern California News Group reporter Fred Robledo remembers that he and the Chargers’ coaches and players all were caught by surprise when the crowd went nuts in the third quarter of a game that the home team was losing to Bonita. “A lot of people were watching on their phones, but never expected to see the energy, reaction and high-fives like you were at a neighborhood bar,” Robledo emailed. “It felt like one of those scenes from a TikTok video that goes viral. We all missed the game, but we didn’t miss the moment.” Ditto at the Mater Dei-St. John Bosco clash at Santa Ana Stadium, where this time the Monarchs beat the Braves handily. SCNG’s Dan Albano will long remember the roar of the crowd at halftime – and take nothing away from the band on the field, but the cheers weren’t for the musicians, they were for the man who orchestrated the collective jolt of joy throughout Southern California. An Orange County guy, Freeman. El Modena High’s own, hailing from Villa Park, not so far from the site of the the game Albano was covering. ALL TOGETHER NOW On that exceptionally busy sports night in L.A., versions of this scene played out in unison throughout Southern California – crowds gathered for different sporting events celebrating the biggest and most dramatic of wins elsewhere in the city. Communal experiences to cherish, especially after how L.A. had to commemorate the Dodgers’ championship four years earlier. The world was in the in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, of course, and most of us weren’t gathering in the same ways. You might have celebrated at home and with your family and closest of fellow fans, but the city at large had to go without a parade – for both the Dodgers and Lakers’ bubble-fied titles that year. Not last year. Not after Freeman’s four home runs helped the Dodgers win the World Series in five games – after which the team’s boozy Nov. 1 procession through the streets of L.A. ended at Dodger Stadium with Ice Cube rapping and Dodgers manager Dave Roberts and his players speechifying. But that was still a dream on Oct. 25, when USC was facing Rutgers in a rare Friday night football game at the Los Angeles Coliseum. Funny how it lined up: L.A. vs New York at the ballpark, L.A. vs. New Jersey on the Coliseum turf. USC won the tussle between new Big Ten Conference foes, 42-20, but before that, fans at the Coliseum also got to hear Newman’s anthem filling the place, those familiar notes punctuating a Trojans score that gave them a 14-3 lead late in the first quarter. Marc Kulkin, host of the “Locked On USC” podcast, remembers feeling like the folks running the show at the Coliseum waited a beat before the next kickoff – “to let the wine breathe … and let the moment organically grow,” he thought – after the public address announcer delivered the good news to the 63,404 fans there. Don’t tell anyone, but Kulkin said there were even some mini-celebrations in the press box, where there are strict rules, recited before every game: No Cheering. “Without breaking the press box rules, there were some silent high-fives and nods and smiles,” he said. “Maybe a ‘Yeah!’ – but not loud enough to upset anybody.” Because who (beside Yankees fans in your midst) could be upset that night? Glassell Park’s Todd Munson was watching Game 1 with his wife, Lesley Grant, in their “adult tree house” where they always catch games – and from where you can see palm trees around Dodger Stadium about 3 miles away. From where they’ll regularly get audible spoilers from crowds when something great happens a few seconds before it’s shown on a delayed stream. But what happened this time was that Munson and Grant missed the cue for Freeman’s grand slam. They’d been bickering about the merits of the rule that allowed Dodgers runners to advance a base after Alex Verdugo’s foul catch carried him into the stands a batter before Freeman came to the plate. “We were going 100 mph back and forth and then each of us – out of the corner of our eyes – saw Freddie point his bat to the sky, and we just started jumping up and down like idiots,” Munson said, laughing. “It was the dumbest married couple thing. Just one end of the pendulum to the other.” Not far away, Fabiola Torres was driving home after she’d just arrived back in L.A. following a flight back from Reno, tracking the Dodgers game with other passengers all the way. Torres said when Freeman connected, she was listening to the radio in her car, driving past the Stadium Way exit that leads to Dodger Stadium. “Usually when I pass [that] exit, I can see the line of cars exiting the stadium. This time, however, Stadium Way was completely empty because no one was leaving,” emailed Torres, whose Salvadoran father, Salvador, was among the countless Angelenos who learned English as a kid by listening to Vin Scully call Dodgers games. “The pitch was thrown right as I approached Stadium Way. I blasted my radio, yelling and honking … and true to the nature of the Northeast L.A. area, fireworks began to light up the sky.” Then she called Salvador from her car and got to hear the whole family, everyone yelling. All over Southern California, everyone was yelling. Including at the scene itself, inside the ballpark, where Jensen Yasukochi, then 8, was standing on his seat, “screaming louder than I’ve ever screamed.” “It was very crazy,” he said, repeating the story about Where He Was When Freddie Freeman Hit That Game 1-Winning Grand Slam for the 100-somethingth time. “My ears were pretty numb after that.” His dad, Stuart, said the Yankees fans who had seats beside them in Section 10, with whom they’d been joking all game, pulled Jensen aside afterward and told him to remember witnessing this live, how special it was. “We’re here to steal seconds for our children, right?” Stuart said. “And I know, 30 years down the road, he’ll still remember this. “Every time the World Series comes on, he’ll remember, ‘I was there with my dad.’”
