Collegiate Times

A couple of weeks ago, Major League Baseball umpire Jim Joyce ruled a runner who was clearly out, safe with two outs in the ninth inning, ruining Detroit Tigers right-handed pitcher Armando Galarraga’s bid at a perfect game.

Joyce apologized profusely after the game and into the next day. “I just cost the kid a perfect game… it was the biggest call of my career,” he said.

He knew he blew the call and after a couple of days, the public forgave him, understanding human error as a fact of life.

Oh, how hypocritical the public can be.

Every few years, we are reminded of how one mistake can ruin an athlete’s life.

Entering game six of the 1986 World Series against the New York Mets, for example, the Boston Red Sox sat a win away from its first championship since 1918. The Sox were heavily favored and had two games to take care of business.

Everything was peachy.

Then, in the bottom of the 10th inning with two outs, and the Red Sox leading 5-4, it happened.

Mets left fielder Mookie Wilson hit a slow-roller up the first-base line where Sox first baseman Bill Buckner read the ball, positioned himself to convert the final out of the game, and then watched as the routine ground-ball went under his glove and through his legs, allowing the Mets to score the winning run.

This is why you know the name, Bill Buckner.

The Mets went on to win game seven and the city of Boston, which had waited nearly 70 years to celebrate a Major League pennant, shook to its core as it was forced to wait longer, thanks to Buckner.

It was a mistake of epic proportions and today, remains one of the most notable sports blunders of all-time.

While Buckner wasn’t forced out of the city to work the cranberry bogs, or given a Hester Prynne-like scarlet letter, his life would never be the same in Boston.

Buckner’s accomplishments, including 174 home runs and nearly 3,000 hits in his career, were immediately forgotten and now, this ultimate gaffe defines him.

Then came Buffalo Bills placekicker Scott Norwood.

In 1991, Virginia’s own Norwood walked onto the field at Super Bowl XXV after a stellar finish to his season. In his final eight games leading up to the Super Bowl, Norwood was solid, converting 11 of his last 13 field goals, helping his team win the AFC.

Norwood, a graduate of James Madison University, was a family man. He had three children, and was just an overall good guy who tried out for years in order to achieve his dream of making it onto an NFL team.

Then, in the final seconds of Super Bowl XXV with the Bills down 20-19, it happened.

Norwood trotted onto the field to attempt a 47-yard field goal, which would either give the Bills a Super Bowl championship, or a heartbreaking loss.

His holder set, the ball was hiked, Norwood made solid contact and though his kick looked good for a split-second, it sailed wide right, giving the New York Giants the victory.

He would play one more season with the Bills before retiring, finishing his career with 670 points and making a relatively acceptable 72 percent of his kicks over the course of his time in the NFL.

As we know, it didn’t matter, though.

Norwood could have converted on 200 of 200 field goals, averaging 70 yards per field goal, while outscoring Thurman Thomas and Jim Kelly combined on a game-by-game basis in his seven years with the Bills, and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Maybe the Bills would have won at least one of the Super Bowl’s they so miserably failed to during the decade, but Norwood would still be haunted by that kick.

“No good! Wide right,” commentator Al Michaels would scream in Norwood’s dreams either way.

In July 2004, Norwood was tracked down by Sports Illustrated’s Kari Taro Greenfield. What Greenfield found was a realtor, still quietly hiding under a veil of shame, handing business cards out while suggesting affordable houses and condominiums in Chantilly.

Tough break.

These moments came to the forefront of sports discussion once again this week, after England goalkeeper Robert Green pulled his own Buckner/Norwood.

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A version of this article appeared in the Jun 17 issue of the Collegiate Times.