LOS ANGELES — At 8:37 p.m., Freddie Freeman felt nothing.
For weeks, the man has endured torture. His rehabilitation sessions have started at 10:30 a.m.
and lingered until the afternoons, with agony filling the hours in between. Just 29 days ago Freeman crumpled in a heap at first base in this very ballpark, his right ankle badly sprained. On the most absurd night, this ballpark harkened back to a similar left-handed slugger’s moment from 36 years ago, this time Freeman floated around first base.
He mirrored Kirk Gibson as he rounded those bases, his limp less noticeable than it was just a week ago and without Gibby’s signature fist pump. Advertisement Like Gibson, he had swung the Los Angeles Dodgers to a victory in Game 1 of the World Series, a fantasy ripped out of backyards and now forever into the lore of Dodger Stadium. The first walk-off grand slam in World Series history shook this place and delivered a 6-3 extra-inning victory over the New York Yankees .
“You dream about those moments,” Freeman said. Freeman did not sprint around the bases. Rather, he watched with his bat in the air as he sent a rocket into the night, dropping it to the dirt only as it began to quake from the bellowing roar of the 52,394 fans who can now say they attended a night etched into immortality.
“(That) might be the greatest baseball moment I’ve ever witnessed,” said Dave Roberts, the Dodgers manager familiar with the idea of nights in October sticking to you like glue. The m.
