ESPN's Top 100 Moments of past 25 years

[EVIL~! alkeiper 0]

Why not place Albert Belle's bat on the list. That was a much better story anyway, with Jason Grimsley sneaking through an air duct into the umpires' room to switch Belle's bat with a different one.

[Bored 0]

Now for the one moment on the list that I was there in person. I was in line for a hot dog with my dad under the upper deck of Candlestick Park when it happened.

 

#26: World Series halted by Bay Area earthquake

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

Twenty-five minutes before the start of Game 3 of the 1989 World Series between the San Francisco Giants and Oakland A's at Candlestick Park, there were a handful of players on the field, stretching, playing catch, mingling.

 

There were 63,000 fans in the stands, waiting for the pregame introductions for the first World Series game at The Stick in 27 years. There is a buzz in the air, typical of baseball in October.

 

The ABC television broadcast of the game had just begun. It was 5 p.m., Pacific Time. The press box was jammed with reporters from all over the world. Suddenly, seconds later, at 5:04, the world changed.

 

THE MOMENT

There is a rumbling, then a fierce jolt. The earth quakes, violently shaking the stadium, cutting off power, causing concrete to fall from some sections of the upper deck and generating shrieks of alarm and fear from the crowd.

 

Baseball commissioner Fay Vincent is nearly knocked out of his chair next to the Giants' dugout when the earthquake strikes. "I thought it was a jet, maybe something breaking the sound barrier," he would say later.

 

There is an eerie silence throughout the stadium as the ballpark structure swings and rumbles back and forth, as if a monster is ready to emerge from behind the right-field stands and shake the stadium until it crumbles to pieces, one by one. But the stadium, much maligned by many who said it wouldn't withstand a major earthquake, holds.

 

A's pitcher Storm Davis takes a crying baby from stands, fearing concrete might fall from the top of the stadium. Mark McGwire steadies one of his friends. Stan Javier helps his wife, Veva, to the field. Terry Steinbach comforts his wife, Mary.

 

TV sets mounted on stands above the press tables sway in the air. Reporters ask what the quake might measure on the Richter scale. One response is that it's a 5.4. When the rumbling finally stops, fans in the stands let out an enormous cheer. They're relieved. Some even yell, "Play ball!"

 

But power is unable to be restored at Candlestick. Police appear on the field. Vincent decides he has no alternative but to postpone the game. Without power and lights, Vincent determines that it isn't reasonable to keep fans in the stadium with darkness rapidly approaching.

 

"I'm sure many fans would have stayed on the chance the power could have been re-established, but I couldn't take that risk," Vincent tells the press. "The safest course was to have people leave in an orderly fashion while there was still light."

 

The fans begin to head for the exits, cheerfully and orderly, yet disappointed. But they have no idea what is transpiring in the world around them. They soon learn that this quake is a staggering 7.1, the biggest in San Francisco since the 8.3 quake of 1906.

 

Word arrives that this shaker is a bad one. Deaths have occurred. The Nimitz Freeway has collapsed, people hear. Bridges are falling. Thousands are dead, thousands more injured. Downtown is in ruins. There are fires. There is looting and rioting. The city is falling apart.

 

"Stay clear of the stadium," policemen scream to the exiting crowd. There is fear the stadium might crumble to earth, crushing everyone.

 

Chunks of concrete are seen falling from a section in the upper deck in the right-center field. People hear that cracks in the upper deck are so big that people can stick their arm through it.

 

In the Candlestick parking lot, fans are hunting for pieces of concrete, almost an hour after the quake. One fan carries a chunk of concrete, offering to sell it for $500.

 

When Vincent learns the enormity of the quake, and that people have died, he doesn't know whether to cancel the World Series altogether or simply postpone it. He says he'll first have to meet with officials from the Giants, A's, Candlestick Park, Oakland Coliseum and the government, city and federal, in order to make a decision.

 

"This is a crisis, and baseball, at this point, is only a small part of the community," Vincent tells the media.

 

As night turns into day, and day to night, with no resumption of the World Series in sight, it is learned that the World Series actually saved hundreds of lives. For at 5:04 p.m., under normal rush-hour conditions, the Nimitz Freeway would have been bumper-to-bumper traffic. But because of the Series, most people left work early, either to go to Candlestick or to watch the game on television. Sixty-seven people died in the quake.

 

Still, it is evident it'll take many months, and maybe several years, for life to return to normal in the Bay Area. The city is a colossal mess. Ten days after the quake, the World Series resumes, with heavy hearts. No one really wants to play the games, knowing how meaningless a game is compared to loss of life and property.

 

"I feel like I'm getting ready for an intrasquad game," outfielder Kevin Mitchell would tell the media. "I just can't get pumped up. I feel like the year is over. I look at everybody and they don't seem themselves. They just don't have that intensity."

 

But the return of the World Series is, in a way, therapeutic for the Bay Area. The therapy is carefully orchestrated. It begins with a moment of silence at 5:04 p.m., the exact moment the earthquake rocked Candlestick Park.

 

Three minutes later, fans are asked to change the somber mood by singing the song, "San Francisco," the city's unofficial national anthem, written by Gus Kahn in 1936. They will sing another song, a symbol of survival, with the cast of the City's long running musical, "Beach Blanket Babylon."

 

At 5:27 p.m., the first ball is thrown out by representatives of the public safety and volunteer agencies that offered assistance after the quake.

 

The World Series resumes, but there is a strange, errie feeling, the kind one never has experienced at a sporting event of this magnitude. It's always been about the game, the players, but as Giants center fielder Brett Butler would say, "The lasting memories of this Series will be the earthquake, not the games, not the World Series winner, nothing but the earthquake. It's sad, but true."

[The Mandarin 0]

I haven't said anything yet, but dude, thanks for posting these. I've read every one thus far. Keep it up.

[Bored 0]

#25: Watson holes in birdie chip at U.S. Open

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

The void ate away at him. Tom Watson had won three British Opens, two Masters and $3 million in prize money on the PGA Tour, but had never won the U.S. Open, and that's the one he wanted.

 

He had come close in both 1974 and 1975, but both times it eluded him. The next three years, he finished seventh, seventh and sixth. Then he missed the cut in 1979. Then he tied for third in 1980 and then slipped all the way down to a tie for 23d in 1981.

 

Without a U.S. Open title, he felt incomplete. "To be a complete golfer," Watson once said, "you have to win the Open."

 

So when Watson arrived at Pebble Beach for the U.S. Open in 1982, he was determined to fill this gaping hole in his resume.

 

THE MOMENT

June 20, 1982. Watson enters The Open as one of the sport's hottest players, and on the final day, the tournament starts with a logjam at the top of the leader board: 13 players are clustered together, all within four strokes of one another, with Watson tied for the lead at 4-under.

 

He makes the turn still 4-under, then birdies 11 on a 22-foot putt to take the lead at 5-under. At 14, a par 5 of 565 yards that has jinxed Watson over time, his third shot is short of the green, stopping on the back edge, 35 feet from the cup, but Watson nails it for birdie.

 

At the par-4 16th, he pushes his drive into a fairway bunker with a steep front wall. Watson's only shot back to the fairway is a blast out sideways. From a downhill lie, he hits a bad approach shot to the sloping green, almost 50 feet from the cup. Watson two-putts for a bogey, dropping him to 4-under and a tie with Jack Nicklaus, who had finished the tournament 15 minutes earlier.

 

"Being tied with two holes to go was a lot different than being a shot behind, which I would've been if I had three-putted 16 instead of two-putting from 50 feet," Watson would say later.

 

The par-3 No. 17 hole, which overlooks Carmel Bay, is a tantalizing 209-yarder that borders the jagged rocks of the Pacific Ocean shoreline. Watson walks to his ball and pulls a 2-iron into the rough on a downslope next to the green, 16 feet from the cup. His lie, however, is fantastic. The ball is perked up on fluffy grass and no grass behind it to interfere with the club head. He is six feet from the edge of the green, and he has 10 feet of green to work with.

 

He turns to his caddie, Bruce Edwards, and says, "I'm not trying to get it close. I'm going to make it." As Nicklaus watches Watson's predicament on TV, he says there is "no way in the world" Watson can get the ball close to the pin. "The only way to get it close is to hole it," Watson says to himself.

 

Watson opens the blade of his sand wedge, just as he would from a bunker, and scoops the club head under the ball, but not too hard. The ball pops straight up, falls on the green and begins rolling toward the stick.

 

"As soon as I hit the green I knew it would go in the hole," Watson would say later. The ball rolls straight for the cup, striking the flagstick and dropping in for one of the most memorable shots in golf history, prompting a huge roar from the crowd. Watson raises his arms to the sky, grins widely, and says to Edwards, "I told you! See, I told you!"

 

''That was the best shot of my life," Watson would say. He knows that if the ball doesn't hit the flagstick, it would've gone six to eight feet past the cup. "That shot," Watson said, "had more meaning to me than any other shot of my career." The miracle chip shot gives Watson a one-stroke lead on Nicklaus. All Watson needs to do for the victory is to score a par 5 on the 18th hole. He birdies it for a two-stroke victory. The championship is finally his.

 

As the new Open champion walks off the 18th green, Nicklaus, a four-time Open champion, greets Watson with a smile. ''You're something else," Nicklaus tells Watson. ''That was nice going. I'm proud of you. I'm pleased for you."

 

Amazingly, in the past six years, four major championships have boiled down to a duel between Nicklaus and Watson on the back nine of the final round. And each time Watson has prevailed -- at Pebble Beach, the 1981 Masters, the 1977 Masters and the 1977 British Open at Turnberry.

 

Later in the interview tent, Nicklaus is told that Rogers, who had been paired with Watson, had suggested that if Watson were to chip 100 balls from that spot in the rough off the 17th green, he would not hole even one ball. "Try about 1,000 balls," Nicklaus would say, smiling.

[Art Sandusky 0]

Why not place Albert Belle's bat on the list. That was a much better story anyway, with Jason Grimsley sneaking through an air duct into the umpires' room to switch Belle's bat with a different one.

I'd expect that kind of crap in the 19th century, but what kind of modern-day sports figures could do this?

[TheDevilAndGodAreRagingInsideMe 0]

I thought it was Chad Curtis who swapped the bats out?

[The Czech Republic 0]

Why not place Albert Belle's bat on the list.  That was a much better story anyway, with Jason Grimsley sneaking through an air duct into the umpires' room to switch Belle's bat with a different one.

I'd expect that kind of crap in the 19th century, but what kind of modern-day sports figures could do this?

Damn cool ones.

[Art Sandusky 0]

Cool, my ass. It sounds like a stunt some bush-league people would try, or a lame sitcom episode. Have some professionalism.

[The Czech Republic 0]

Well I like The Breakfast Club, and I like baseball, so the two come together in this marvelous moment.

[Bored 0]

#24: Jordan's jumper secures 6th NBA title

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

Really now, how else could it possibly end? How else could Michael Jordan's spine-tingling career conclude other than with him dominating crunch time, scorching the opponent by scoring his team's final eight points to win his sixth NBA championship.

 

The play would turn out to be Jordan's final shot as a Chicago Bull, 17 feet out at the top of the key, though no one knew it at the time. It would turn out to be one of those larger-than-life moments that defines true greatness and legendary status.

 

THE MOMENT

It's June 14, 1998, Salt Lake City, Game 6 of the NBA Finals.

 

The situation is grim for the Bulls, who have a 3 games to 2 lead in the championship series: Scottie Pippen, Jordan's championship sidekick, is in such agony from a back injury that he is useless; Jordan is receiving virtually no help at all from his other teammates, leaving it up to him to deliver another championship to Chicago; other than Jordan, only Toni Kukoc, with 15 points, has also scored in double figures.

 

Jordan is clearly tiring, too; he had missed five consecutive shot attempts at one point in the final quarter and had missed 14 of his last 17 shots heading into crunch time. The prospect of a seventh game -- something Jordan and the Bulls have never faced during their championship dynasty -- looks like a possibility after Utah's John Stockton drills a 3-pointer to give the Jazz an 86-83 lead in the final minute..

 

Yet Jordan takes the inbounds pass, races upcourt, drives right past Bryon Russell and lays the ball in with 37 seconds left. His 42nd and 43rd points of the night slice the deficit 86-85.

 

The Jazz work the ball to Karl Malone, and as he is about to make his patented power move to the hoop, Jordan sneaks up from behind and strips the ball loose with 18.9 seconds left. "He never saw me coming," MJ would say afterwards.

 

The move silences the stunned crowd, which was about to explode in celebration had Malone made the shot. As Jordan gains possession after his steal, he refuses to call time out and instead races upcourt with a hard dribble.

 

As Jordan moves past halfcourt, Russell flies over to pick him up. As the clock winds down to eight seconds, Russell reaches in for an attempted steal. Jordan uses a crossover dribble, faking Russell nearly out of his hightops. Russell slips, freeing Jordan up at the top of the key, 17 feet out.

 

"It was a do-or-die situation, so I let the time tick to where I felt like I had the court right where I wanted it to be," Jordan would explain. "As soon as Russell reached, he gave me a clear lane. I made my initial drive, and he bit on it. I had a great look at the basket."

 

Jordan rises from the floor to launch his shot. "When the crowd gets quiet, the moment is there," Jordan would say. "Once you get into the moment, when you know you are there, things start to get quiet, and you start to the read the court very well. When Russell reached, I knew the moment was there."

 

The ball floats through the air in perfect rotation. The clock winds down to 5.4 ... 5.3 ... 5.2 ... as the ball swishes elegantly through the basket, hitting nothing but net, MJ's 44th and 45th points of the night.

 

Jordan raises his arms. The Bulls have the lead, 87-86. The Jazz, stunned and frustrated, call time to set up a final play. "You're unbelievable," Bulls guard Ron Harper screams in Jordan's ear as they walk to the sidelines together, arm in arm.

 

Bulls coach Phil Jackson strategizes, designing a defense to stop Utah, but Jordan is sure the game is over. "I know our defense will stop them," he thinks to himself.

 

Utah inbounds to Stockton, who is immediately picked up and hounded by Harper. With one second left, Stockton launches a 3-pointer. The ball is altered by Harper's tough, in-the-face defense. The ball hits the front of the rim. Ballgame. Bulls win, securing their third straight NBA crown and sixth in eight seasons.

 

The celebration, one we have all become too familiar with in June, is on. Naturally, Jordan is named Finals MVP, an award he has captured in each of the Bulls' six championship seasons. He not only scores 45 in the clincher, but in Chicago's last two possessions, with the title on the line, he is the only Bull to even touch the ball. Not one pass is made to another Bull. MJ winds up scoring the Bulls' last eight points, in the final 2:05.

 

The 45-point performance surpasses, in the minds of many, the countless other memorable moments of his career, even Game 5 of the previous NBA Finals, when, despite being sick with a stomach virus, he scored 38 points to lead the Bulls to victory over Utah.

 

"I didn't think he could top that performance," Jackson would say afterwards, "but he topped it here tonight. I think this was the best performance ever that we've seen from Michael Jordan to win a game, win in a critical situation and critical game in the series. He's proven it so many times, over and over again. Michael's the guy who always comes through in the clutch. He's a real-life hero."

 

"Michael Jordan," Jazz coach Jerry Sloan would say, "is the greatest to ever play this game. You saw why tonight."

[Red Baron 0]

I'm shocked that this wasn't hire up on the list, because its ESPN. I'm satisfied that its here.

[CanadianChris 0]

Wow, I was sure this was bound for the top 3.

[Bored 0]

#23: Armstrong wins first Tour de France

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

Lance Armstrong had only a 50 percent chance of living -- if he was lucky. He had testicular cancer that had spread to his lungs and abdomen. His abdomen had 12 tumors, some as big as golf balls. His brain had two lesions.

 

He underwent a pair of major surgeries, one in which his right testicle was removed, the other in which brain lesions were repaired. He then had to go through four grueling rounds of intense chemotherapy, each a month apart.

 

He was 25 years old and knew he may never ride a bicycle again, which is what he did better than nearly everyone else in the world. "I couldn't help but think that I wasn't going to make it," Armstrong would say.

 

At the age of 21, Armstrong became the youngest rider ever to win the world road race championship. Three years later, he emerged as one of the sport's brightest stars. That's when he began experiencing groin pains. He shrugged it off as the result of riding on a hard bicycle saddle five hours a day, every day.

 

Then, one day in the fall of 1996, shortly after turning 25, he became dizzy. Then his vision became blurred. He began coughing up blood. He had cancer.

 

During radiation therapy, Armstrong kept riding, 30 to 50 miles a day. He sat out virtually all of the 1997 season, working himself back into shape. When he decided to race again, his team, French Cofidis, shockingly and cruelly informed him that it did not want him back, that he was not worth the risk. The team even wound up paying Armstrong only 25 percent of his contract. Several other European teams rejected Armstrong's plea to join them, thinking he would be too ill to ride.

 

But it was the struggling United States Postal Service team, organized just a few years earlier, that was the only unit to show any interest in him. By the summer of 1997, Armstrong was declared cancer free, and he set out with renewed dedication, determination and resolve to conquer the world of bicycle racing.

 

In the middle of a race in France in early 1999, he discovered he was not mentally ready or prepared to race. He bowed out of the race and flew back home to Austin, Texas. He was so depressed that he didn't even unpack his bike for a month.

 

He thought about quitting the racing circuit, but in the spring of 1999, he rode through the North Carolina mountains for 10 days with friend and former racer Bob Roll, who convinced Armstrong to give it another try, that it's just not the body that needs to recover, but the mind and spirit as well.

 

The scenario of an athlete returning to world-class competition from such advanced cancer and aggressive treatment had never been done before, so when Armstrong journeyed to Paris for the 86th Tour de France, the world's most famous bicycle race, the world wasn't prepared for what would occur.

 

THE MOMENT

July 1999, Paris. The Tour de France, the grueling 2,290-mile race that crosses two mountain ranges and takes 22 days to complete through rain, hail and scorching sun, is wrapping up.

 

The race started in early July, and for three weeks Lance Armstrong forges on. Amazingly, he dominates the race. He begins wearing the yellow jersey, the race's symbol of overall leadership, on July 3 after winning the short prologue.

 

He relinquishes it two days later as sprinters dominate the stages on flat territory. But on July 11, Armstrong regains the yellow jersey as he crushes the field in a time trial. Then he closes in on first place on July 13 by triumphing with a daring attack on the first day in the Alps.

 

"I raced in a style that people like," Armstrong would tell the media later. "I'm aggressive. People want attacks. They want to see the boys working. I've always said that I'd rather be the guy that lights the race up and finishes second than the guy that sits back, doesn't do anything and wins."

 

Armstrong's stage win in the Alps over six climbs stuns the world, including rivals, observers and fans, not only because of his bout with cancer but also because he is not considered a strong climber. What makes his performance so much more startling is that he had finished just one of his previous four trips to the Tour de France, finishing 35th in 1995.

 

Armstrong wins another stage in which he has to climb over a mountain pass at 8,675 feet, then descend at breakneck speed. When Armstrong finishes with 10 laps of a four-mile loop on the Champs-Elysees on the final day, he clinches first place, winning the event by an astounding 7 minutes and 37 seconds, establishing a record average speed of 25 mph, breaking the mark of 24.8 set by Italy's Marco Pantani the previous year. He becomes the second U.S. rider to win the (following Greg LeMond's victories in 1986, 1989 and 1990) and the first to win with a U.S.-sponsored team -- on an American-made bicycle, no less.

 

Disbelief and joy engulf Champs-Elysees as Armstrong celebrates his win in the world's most torturous event, just 33 months removed from cancer surgery.

 

As he crosses the finish line in Paris, Armstrong yells, "I'm in shock!" A crowd of nearly 500,000 people, watching under a blazing sun, cheer him wildly. As the U.S. team rides its bikes up the Champs-Elysees from the finish line to the hotel, Armstrong carries a large American flag followed by teammates holding smaller flags.

 

"Winning this is a miracle," Armstrong would say. "Two years ago, I didn't know if I'd be alive, let alone be riding in the Tour de France."

 

As Armstrong speaks, a small but rowdy group of students from Austin wave U.S. and Texas flags, flashing the famous University of Texas' "hook 'em, horns" hand signals.

 

"It truly is nothing short of miraculous," Dr. Lawrence Einhorn, the oncologist who helped oversee Armstrong's chemotherapy and radiation treatments at Indiana University Hospital, would tell the media. "It is remarkable for him just to compete in the Tour de France, let alone win it."

 

As Armstrong triumphantly rides through the wind, a French TV reporter on a motorcycle rides up, sticks out a microphone and asks the new Tour champ how he really feels. Armstrong says that the driving force was his determination to encourage other cancer patients, "to give hope and inspiration to millions and millions of people who never had any hope. This sends out a message to all survivors: We can return to what we were before -- and do even better."

[CanadianChris 0]

^ Further proof that these are all random. I can't imagine many more moments that were more astonishing or incredible than this one.

[The Man in Blak 0]

Wow, I was sure this was bound for the top 3.

Eh, it loses a lot of steam once you realize that Jordan "faked Russell out of his shoes" by blatantly pushing off on that final shot.

 

Still a great job of booking by the NBA, though.

[Bored 0]

#22: Villanova shocks Georgetown to win hoops title

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

Every once in a while, everything comes together and basketball perfection is attained. Sometimes, by the most unlikely of teams.

 

The Villanova Wildcats didn't finish in the top 20 of the final NCAA basketball poll in 1985. They finished third in Big East, after getting hammered by 23 points in the regular season finale, their 10th defeat of the season.

 

But when they played their game, they were the kind of club that opposing coaches feared. That fear grew during the NCAA Tournament as the Wildcats knocked off Dayton, Michigan, Maryland and North Carolina to reach the Final Four, where they shocked Memphis State to reach the championship game against defending champion Georgetown.

 

Georgetown, the team the nation loved to dislike, was an overwhelming favorite, led by center Patrick Ewing on the nation's best defense, which had held opponents to just 39 percent shooting.

 

But this night, this moment, is one for the underdogs

 

THE MOMENT

April 1, 1985. As Villanova's players huddle in the locker room before the game, coach Rollie Massimino tells them to think about two things: "One, do not play not to lose. Play to win. Two, you are good enough to win. You can beat anyone in the country. Believe it."

 

They do. After all, the Wildcats had played Georgetown twice during the regular season and both were nail biters, 'Nova losing 52-50 in overtime and then dropping a 57-50 decision. Massimino scribbles "59" on the blackboard. "That's what I want you to hold them to," he says, knowing that when 'Nova scores 60, it usually wins.

 

The Hoyas are 35-3, riding a 17-game winning streak, and bidding to join an elite group of programs -- Kentucky, UCLA, Cincinnati, Oklahoma State and San Francisco -- to win back-to-back titles. But 'Nova is simply impeccable on this night, shooting perfectly, blocking out, diving for loose balls, defending. In the first half, the 'Cats make 13 of 18 field goals for an astonishing 72 percent shooting. But they go into the locker room at halftime leading by only one point, 29-28, thanks mostly to their own turnovers.

 

In the locker room, Massimino excitedly tells his players, "See, you're as good as they are tonight. I told you that you had it in you, that you had to believe it. Now there's no question about it. You're as good as they are tonight. Now it's time to go out and win it."

 

Massimino makes a criticial adjustment, stationing Ed Pinckney near the back of the right side of the foul lane on offense, then having him flash into the middle after a teammate, usually Harold Pressley, dribbles into the key. That strategy earns Pinckney six points in an 8-2 surge that gives the 'Cats a 53-48 lead with 6:02 left.

 

With 4:48 left, Villanova clings to a 53-52 lead. But G'Town's David Wingate makes a tough jumper off the glass over Pressley to put the Hoyas ahead, 54-53. At the other end, Pinckney battles Ewing under the basket, gets the ball in position to score but loses it out of bounds.

 

Georgetown coach John Thompson decides to spread the floor, calling for his four-corner stall offense. To his dismay, Georgetown turns the ball over when Bill Martin bounces a pass off teammate Horace Broadnax's foot. Slowing the tempo to a crawl, Villanova waits nearly a minute to take its next shot. Harold Jensen hits a wide open 15-footer, putting 'Nova back on top 55-54. Jensen will hit all five of his shots in the championship game.

 

At the other end, Wingate drives the baseline, but Pinckney steals the ball. He is fouled and makes both free throws, increasing the 'Cats' lead to 57-54 with two minutes left.

 

Wingate misses another jumper on the ensuing possession, Jensen gets the long rebound, and Georgetown immediately fouls. Jenson makes two free throws, completing a 6-0 spurt that puts Villanova up 59-54 with 1:24 to play.

 

The pattern repeats itself: Georgetown misses, Villanova gets the rebound, Georgetown fouls and Villanova converts the free throw. In the final 1:10, 'Nova goes to the free-throw line six times and converts 7 of 10 shots.

 

With 18 seconds left, the Villanova lead is five points, 65-60. But Georgetown's Michael Jackson scores twice on drives sandwiched around a Villanova free throw, making it a two-point game, 66-64, with just two seconds showing on the clock. Villanova has the lead and possession.

 

All 'Nova has to do to complete this unlikeliest of fairy tales is inbounds the ball safely. Jensen inbounds to Dwayne McClain, who runs into Wingate. Both players fall to the floor. But McClain holds onto the ball and covers it up with his body, clutching it like a baby as the buzzer sounds and bedlam erupts.

 

McClain extends his fist upward in triumph, realizing the impossible has happened. Villanova's three seniors -- Pinckney, McClain and Gary McLain -- stand in a circle under the basket, hugging one other, crying, not believing they beat the mighty Hoyas.

 

"Look at the scoreboard, just look at it!" Pinckney screams, his eyes red and teary. "Everybody said Georgetown would win. Everybody! But it's us!"

[Bored 0]

I think this is an example, along with Sosa's corked bat, of them voting on this probably at the end of 2003 so moments like these were fresh in everyone's memory. This is a bit high in my view (especially being so far above Joe Carter's homerun) but I'm not a Cubs fan.

 

#21: NLCS turns when fan interferes with foul ball

Rick Weinberg

Special to ESPN.com

 

Steve Bartman loved the Cubs so much that he'd often save his vacation time from work for March, just so he could travel to Arizona to see his beloved team in spring training.

 

Little did he know what would happen when got a front-row seat down left-field line at Wrigley Field for Game 6 of the National League Championship Series in 2003.

 

THE MOMENT

October 15, 2003, Wrigley Field, Chicago. The Cubs and their fans can smell the World Series, leading the Florida Marlins 3-0 in the eighth inning behind their brilliant young pitcher, Mark Prior.

 

Prior stands on the mound and looks toward home plate at Mike Mordecai of the Florida Marlins. Prior has been terrific, allowing just three hits. Mordecai lifts a fly ball to left field. Left fielder Moises Alou gracefully runs in and makes an easy catch.

 

Five outs to go ... just five outs and they're there in the World Series for the first time since 1945 ... with a chance to win their first World Series since 1908 ... 95 years ...

 

Prior, with 12 wins in his previous 13 appearances, faces pesky Juan Pierre, who doubles down the left-field line. No problem, Cubs fans think. No problem at all. Prior is dominant, we have a 3-0 lead, and we have Kyle Farnsworth and Joe Borowski in the bullpen to close it out and begin the celebration.

 

Prior works the count on the next hitter, Luis Castillo, to 3-and-2. Castillo lifts a fly ball down the left-field line. The ball veers toward the stands. Alou races over, extending his glove, preparing to catch it for the second out, leaving the Cubs four outs away from nirvana.

 

Alou glides up against the brick wall in foul territory, his glove raised high in air, his eyes bulging, preparing to catch the ball. A cluster of fans see that the ball is descending right toward them. Some lean backwards. Some move away. Some, like Steve Bartman, are unable to judge exactly where they are in relation to where the ball is, and where Alou is.

 

Then, as the ball falls from the heavens, just as Alou is about to snag it, Bartman's outstretched hand is among the cluster of hands going for the ball. Alou's glove is bumped and the ball falls into the stands. Wrigley is stunned, speechless.

 

Alou angrily shouts and slams his glove to the ground in anger. Bartman, wearing headphones, turns pale. You can read his face: "Oh God," it says. "What did I do?"

 

Alou is dumbfounded, later saying he was 100 percent certain he was going to catch the ball. "I had a clean shot to catch the ball," he would say in the doom and gloom of the Cubs' clubhouse, after the Marlins go on to score eight runs in the inning for an 8-3 victory. "I timed it perfectly. I kept my eye on the ball, and all of a sudden there's a hand on the glove and a hand on the ball."

 

Prior walks Castillo. People in the crowd begin heckling Bartman. In a surreal sequence of events that conjures up horrid events of the past half century, Prior throws a wild pitch, advancing Pierra to third, then relinquishes a single to Ivan Rodriguez that scores Pierre to make it 3-1. Then dependable shortstop Alex Gonzalez boots Miguel Cabrera's grounder. More fans shout obscenities at Bartman.

 

As the TV cameras zoom in on the disconsolate Bartman, Derrek Lee rips a game-tying double down the left-field line. Fans stare at Bartman and taunt him. Prior is replaced and soon it's 8-3. As the disastrous half-inning ends, the Cubs walk to their dugout, their heads down. Cubs' security escort Bartman away from the stands, fearing a riot. Fans throw beer cans and epithets at Bartman.

 

After the game, the only thing people talk about, the only thing you hear is, "That guy Bartman."

 

The Cubs still have Game 7, of course, but they blow a lead in that game as well, linking Bartman forever as a dark new chapter in the plight of the Cubs.

[the max 0]

Not Bartman's fault that the team collapsed after that.

 

And this is shouldn't even crack the 100, IMO.

[Slayer 0]

My thoughts (that have been echoed multiple times by others)

 

1. I don't think that would've been a "gimme" catch for Alou if no one had interfered, that ball was way up and inside, IIRC

 

2. Bartman certainly isn't responsible for the breakdown in fielding and pitching by the Cubs (no less than Bill Buckner was responsible for the horrible pitching by Schiraldi and Stanley)

[Bored 0]

Since there is only 20 left I'm gonna guess as to what is left. This is off the top of my head and in no particular order.

 

-Miracle on Ice

-Bill Buckner play

-"The Catch"

-Doug Flutie's hail mary

-Kirk Gibson's homerun

-Vinatari's winning field goal against the Rams

-N.C. State's upset of Houston, 1983 NCAA final (dunk to win)

-Laettner's winning shot vs. Kentucky

-McGwire breaking homerun record

-Bonds breaking homerun record

 

That's all I got for now.

[the max 0]

Miracle on Ice has to be in at LEAST the top three.

[CanadianChris 0]

Miracle On Ice and McGwire are 1-2 in some order.

[Bored 0]

Miracle on Ice is pretty much a lock for #1.

 

Add Francisco Cabrera's series winning hit in the '92 NLCS to the list above. Nine more to guess.

[bob_barron 0]

Magic Johnson announcing he has AIDS

The OJ verdict

 

I could see them putting Mets v. Braves from Shea after 9.11

 

or Vladmir Konstantinov being wheeled onto the ice to hold the cup

[CanadianChris 0]

Others not mentioned:

 

Bills' 32-point comeback vs. Oilers

Norman's collapse in the '96 Masters

The Dream Team

Dickerson rushes for 2105

Sampras vs. Corretja, '96 US Open (the puke match)

[Brett Favre 0]

I can't believe LJ's 4 point play wasn't on the list. Then again, i'm probably the only who thought it should have been on there.

[CanadianChris 0]

I'd be surprised to see it on there, but either Agassi winning Wimbledon in '92 or Agassi winning the career Grand Slam should be here somewhere.

[EVIL~! alkeiper 0]

How about collusion? I don't recall seeing that on the list.

[Guest Smues]

Add Francisco Cabrera's series winning hit in the '92 NLCS to the list above. Nine more to guess.

I've been praying this whole time that makes this list, since that's my favorite sports moment ever.

[Bored 0]

Magic Johnson announcing he has AIDS

Definently.

The OJ verdict

I'd say the chase would make it since it also caused a delay in the Rockets/Knicks NBA Finals game. Obviously something O.J. related will be there.

I could see them putting Mets v. Braves from Shea after 9.11

Maybe.

or Vladmir Konstantinov being wheeled onto the ice to hold the cup

It's hockey so not a chance.

Bills' 32-point comeback vs. Oilers

Definently.

Norman's collapse in the '96 Masters

You'd think it would be on the list some where.

The Dream Team

Since they're are focusing on singular moments I'm not sure if it will make the list. There was no one single moment about the Dream Team that stands out. Hell what I remember the most was Barkley elbowing some player.

Dickerson rushes for 2105

No chance, if it was going to make the list it'd be on it already.

Sampras vs. Corretja, '96 US Open (the puke match)

Same as above.

I'd be surprised to see it on there, but either Agassi winning Wimbledon in '92 or Agassi winning the career Grand Slam should be here somewhere.

Possibly but I'd be surprised to see it so high.

 

For tennis Jimmy Connors surprise run at the 1991 U.S. Open (I think that was the year) hasn't been listed or Monica Seles being stabbed.

 

One more to add that's a lock is the '94 baseball strike.

 

For me personally Jerry Rice breaking Jim Brown's touchdown record should be Top 100 but since it hasn't been on the list yet I'm kinda doubting it will crack the Top 20.