On October 3rd, 1996, my Dad came home with tickets to game two of the NLDS. The only problem was the game started in an hour. We immediately piled into the car, and got stuck in traffic on the 110. By the time we actually made it into our seats in the right field pavillion, two innings had gone by, and the Dodgers had scored a run entirely through productive outs and errors.
Things all went downhill from there. Greg Maddux was on the mound for the Braves, at his very best, mowing the Dodgers in what seemed like five or six pitches each inning. When we arrived at the end of the second, my dad went to go get some Dodger Dogs; by the time he came back, it was the top of the 6th. When all was said in done, the Dodgers lost the game in two hours and eight minutes, so given the delay it took to get to the park, we were there for about an hour and a half. To this day, I call this the worst game ever.
Even though I really couldn't pay attention to the game last night, homework and all, just seeing the game blow by at that pace was something that I've never expirenced as a Dodger fan. I didn't really expect much when the Dodgers picked up Maddux, so seeing him pitch a vintage Maddux game for what could be his last time was truly something special.
Of course, we can't overlook Russel Martin's heroics, but the night truly did belong to Maddux. Make's me wonder how fun it must have been to be a Braves fan in the mid 90s.