Game Seven — the ultimate competition in Major League Baseball treated us again on the first day of November for the 39th time in baseball history.

On the dawning of the day of the showdown in Los Angeles between the Dodgers and Astros, I came extremely close to asking Webb Weekly editor Steph Nordstrom for a dispensation deadline in submitting this week’s column. After all, Game Seven is the ultimate showdown culminating a six-month, 162-game regular season and three rounds of intense playoffs that puts all involved on the precipice of exultation or depression depending upon your rooting interest. But reality struck and journalistic responsibility ruled so this column was being penned on the day of — not the day after the final 2017 World Series showdown.

Football has its Super Bowl, college basketball has its March Madness and both the NBA and NHL determine their champions in what has led to Game Seven matchups, but there is truly something very special about a World Series 7th game. Most kids that have picked up a baseball or bat in their backyards at one time or another dreamed about putting their imaginary play into a Game Seven scenario. There are logical arguments that the baseball season is too long, its pace of play is too slow and playing the game’s most important contest after the Halloween candy has been handed out is not treating its fans best interests.

Those opinions all have merit and the big TV money that dictates games are concluding when most viewers in the Eastern Time zone have long since gone to bed are definitely not affording youngsters the chance to view the games deciding contests. Remember those days long gone, when transistor radios were sneaked into classrooms, or teachers rolled out a black & white TV to let the class view those afternoon games? I digress — but that was once part of the Game 7 magic.

No matter how it ended, this World Series show between the Dodgers and Astros was exciting stuff with memorable moments and a bevy of World Series records established. Interestingly enough, the 13-12 Astros victory in Game 5 that consumed 5 hours and 17 minutes registered TV rating that was 38% higher than the Sunday Night NFL game featuring the Pittsburgh Steelers. This despite the fact that for us Eastern Time Zone viewers the game never ended until 1:38 a.m.!

I spent the entire summer rooting for the Red Sox and Pirates, so I truly didn’t have a horse in this race — but I watched it all anyway. But it did bring back significant memories from my younger days that were fondly recalled.

As a youngster my parents succumbed to my wishes and let me bring a new puppy into the family at the time the 1955 World Series between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the Yankees was taking place. When deciding on the puppy’s name we settled on naming her Dodger which coincided with the only World Series ever won by the team in Brooklyn. ‘Dodger’ became somewhat of a neighborhood legend, and was a faithful companion well into my college years.

Those college years played out in Texas at the University of Houston. I arrived in Houston at the same time the city was awarded a Major League Baseball franchise. The then Houston Colt .45s played their first few seasons in a temporary stadium while the Astrodome was being built. My Dad and I saw the first ever game played in that stadium, and I later applied for a part-time job as a parking lot attendant. As a college student and a baseball junkie, this was a great gig. We got paid, and after the third inning we were allowed to go into the park and see the games.

Our fellow parking lot workers were a sight to behold. In keeping with the team’s name and image we were outfitted in a western theme. We wore orange coveralls with a blue cowboy hat and neckerchief. The waistband of the coveralls featured a ‘holster’ for the bright orange flashlight used to direct traffic.

In that temporary stadium, our employees’ entrance was the same one used by the Colt .45 players. At that time, the team had brought up a young, phenom outfielder named Rusty Staub. Staub and I shared similar features, both of us tall, young and redheaded. On numerous occasions following games I was mistaken for him and asked for autographs. I would politely explain I wasn’t him and walk on.

One night a mother with a young son stopped me at the gate asking for an autograph. As I gave my standard reply the mother got angry and began ‘ripping’ who she thought was Staub for not signing for her son. As she persisted I thought ‘why give Staub a bad reputation’ and signed for her son. As that season progressed there were other autograph requests that ‘Rusty Staub’ signed as the result of the mistaken identity. Regrettably, I never had the chance to meet him to explain my actions.

Game Seven presented the chance for the Astros to win their first ever World Series. For the Dodgers it was the first ‘Game Seven’ ever played in Dodger Stadium since their move west in 1958. Whatever the outcome, I was watching and the memories were fun to recall.