EDITOR’S NOTE: Tom Hyde, the son of former Post-Journal Sports Editor Frank Hyde, was in attendance for Game 7 of the 1960 World Series at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh. With the recent passing of Bill Mazeroski, the Pirates’ Hall-of-Fame second baseman who hit arguably the most famous home run in World Series history in Game 7 to beat the New York Yankees, it was deemed appropriate to run Tom Hyde’s remembrance of that day more than 65 years ago.

The recent passing of Bill Mazeroski sparked a memory. My father had driven to Pittsburgh alone to cover Games 1 and 2 of the 1960 World Series for The Post-Journal. The Pirates won the first game 6-4, helped by a two-run home run from Mazeroski.

As if insulted by the punks from Steel City, the Yankees won the second game 16-3, fueled by two home runs from Mickey Mantle at the peak of his stellar career.

Returning to New York, the Yankees bombed the Pirates 10-0 in Game 3. It’s easy to imagine bookies all in for New York winning it in five.

See MAZ, Page B2

Yet, Pittsburgh won Game 4 by one run and, shockingly, did it again, winning Game 5 by three runs. It was enough to send the crime rate in New York soaring (it didn’t).

But it was back to Pittsburgh and, with that, Frank took me along for the ride, knowing from Games 1 and 2 that he could get me into the sold-out Forbes Field with a standing-room-only ticket that cost $5.

I didn’t mind standing among the great unwashed, but I was only 13, so he was concerned for my safety. Not concerned that someone would harm me — this was 1960 and a ballpark anywhere was the safest place in the world — but he was concerned that I would get lost, and he’d have to take time away from filing his story to find me.

His solution: bribe the usher who was minding the steps up to the press box. Only the press section was not a box, per se, but a reserved section of second-deck seats for a hundred or so writers overlooking the third base line.

Frank told me to leave SRO and walk around to where the steps went up to the press section and he’d meet me there.There, he low-handed the usher $5.

“The kid is with me,” he said, and the usher just nodded. I had never seen my father bribe anyone before. Or after.

In Pittsburgh for Games 6 and 7, the Yankee juggernaut found itself again and won Game 6 12-0 behind the resolute pitching of Whitey Ford and a Roger Maris homer.

Prior to Game 7, Frank wanted to catch Yankee manager Casey Stengel at the Hilton Hotel (where we did not stay) before the team boarded the bus to Forbes Field. What did that take? A public relations minder? A director of communications? Another bribe? None of the above.

He simply walked across the lobby and joined a small group of reporters talking casually with Stengel. No stage, no facade with sponsors logos and a zillion microphones and TV cameras, just the legendary Yankee manager and a few scribes talking quietly among themselves.

The lobby was busy but not overrun by security or groupies. Yankee players milled about in suits waiting for the bus to leave, and as no one was hassling them, I decided to. I stepped closer to Yogi Berra, Roger Maris, and Bill “Moose” Skowron, who were standing together talking, waiting.

I carried a World Series record book Frank had given me and on the way to the hotel he encouraged me to “walk right up and ask them to sign it.” Encouragement I needed because I was a shy kid and no more so than when around big-name ballplayers. But they signed. Yogi Berra held the book up to show off because he was featured in an ad for Camel cigarettes on the back cover.

Too stunned to say, ‘thank you,” I turned to leave them in peace only to literally bump into Mickey Mantle, who was joining the group and who would go 3 for 5 with two homers and five RBIs that day. Star-struck and unable to speak, I held out my book. Mantle looked at me strangely (rightfully so) but signed it.

In the bottom of the eighth inning of Game 7, and the Pirates trailing 7-4, Forbes Field became a madhouse when catcher Hall Smith, who had replaced the regular Pirate catcher, Smoky Burgess, and who had 2,682 career at-bats, but only 58 home runs, came off the bench and smacked a three-run homer, scoring Dick Groat and Roberto Clemente to give Pittsburgh a 9-7 lead.

The Yankees nutted out two more runs in the top of the ninth to tie the score, setting the scene for Mazeroski’s moment in the sun. I was sitting on an aisle step next to Frank, who had his assigned seat and a fold-down table for his “desk.”

Ralph Terry came on to pitch for New York in the ninth. “Maz” was known for his defense at second base (eight Gold Gloves) but in his entire 17-year career, all with Pittsburgh, he had hit only 138 home runs. Yet, Frank, ever one to wish for fairy-tale endings, turned to me and said: “If he hits one now this place will go crazy.”

RIP Bill Mazeroski.