They remember the roar: Inside George W. Bush’s iconic World Series pitch after 9/11

A World Series Moment That Carried a City’s Grief

Cybersecarmor.com – When George W. Bush stepped onto the field at Yankee Stadium before Game 3 of the 2001 World Series, the defining memory for many people nearby was not the pitch itself. It was the sound that met him.

Nearly 25 years later, the image remains inseparable from the period after the Sept. 11 attacks: a president wearing an FDNY pullover, walking toward the mound in the Bronx and delivering a strike before a World Series game. The ceremony took place Oct. 30, 2001, only seven weeks after the attacks had shaken New York City and the entire country.

For those standing on the field, however, the moment unfolded with far more uncertainty, security and emotion than a short video clip can show. Players, umpires, security personnel and broadcasters all experienced a stadium transformed by the events of that autumn.

An Unexpected Catcher

Todd Greene had not expected to receive the president’s ceremonial throw. Jorge Posada was initially assigned to catch it, but he remained in the Yankee Stadium bullpen while starting pitcher Roger Clemens completed his lengthy pregame routine.

Greene, a Yankees backup catcher, noticed Bush approaching the dugout steps and understood that someone needed to get to the field quickly. He took his glove and ran out, finding himself at the center of one of baseball’s most enduring images.

Bush went all the way to the regulation pitching rubber, 60 feet and 6 inches from home plate. Beneath his clothes, he wore a Kevlar vest. Then he threw a strike to Greene as the crowd erupted.

The significance went far beyond the accuracy of the throw. The stadium had become a place where a city still mourning the dead could briefly gather around a shared event, even as fear of further violence remained present.

Seven Weeks After Sept. 11

On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, 19 al-Qaida hijackers took control of four commercial planes. Two aircraft struck the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers in Manhattan, while another hit the Pentagon. Passengers on the fourth plane fought back before it crashed near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

The towers later collapsed, and 2,977 people were killed in the attacks. Among the victims were 343 New York City firefighters.

Major League Baseball halted its schedule that day. Games did not resume until Sept. 17, and the regular season was extended by one week. When the sport returned, the visual and ceremonial rhythms of ballparks reflected the national mood.

Teams added American flags to their uniform sleeves. The Mets wore caps honoring the NYPD and FDNY rather than their regular hats. During the seventh-inning stretch, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” gave way to “God Bless America” at stadiums throughout the league.

New York’s first home game after the attacks came four days after baseball resumed. Diana Ross performed “God Bless America” at Shea Stadium, and Mets star Mike Piazza fought through the pregame emotion before hitting a two-run, eighth-inning home run against the Atlanta Braves. The game drew 41,235 fans.

A City Still Processing Loss

Suzyn Waldman, then a Yankees reporter for WFAN, had been on the Triborough Bridge when the second plane struck the South Tower. In the weeks that followed, she watched the Yankees become part of memorial ceremonies in city after city.

At the first game played at Yankee Stadium after the attacks, Waldman remembered seeing personal tributes left in the seats of victims. Some spaces held beer, others flowers. A seat below her broadcast booth had cookies placed on it.

By the time the World Series returned to New York, the emotional strain had accumulated.

Waldman arrived at the ballpark early for Game 3 and saw workers securing office doors overlooking the field. She was in the dugout when Bush arrived and needed a Secret Service escort to return to her broadcast position. The attorney general had warned the public the previous day that another attack could be possible within the coming week.

“I was terrified for him going out there,” Waldman said.

Security Changed the Ballpark

The Arizona Diamondbacks came to New York amid a security environment unlike anything most visiting players had encountered at a baseball game. Before Game 3, pitcher Brian Anderson visited Ground Zero and described a scene that still looked active and dangerous.

“The mouth of a volcano. There were still different colors of smoke coming up from the ground, orange, green, yellow,” Anderson said.

For Arizona infielder Craig Counsell, the approach to Yankee Stadium underscored how different the night would be. Modern stadium entry procedures were not yet routine in the way they would become in later years.

“It was an amazing night, an intimidating night a little bit,” Counsell said. “The military presence, police presence, snipers, it felt like is this what has to be here to play a baseball game?”

Umpires Dale Scott and Jim Joyce arrived at 5:15 p.m. for an 8:20 p.m. start because they expected delays getting inside. A hallway they had ordinarily walked without attention was now lined with armed officers at regular intervals. In their locker room, a man wearing an earpiece was waiting.

That atmosphere helps explain why Bush’s appearance has remained so memorable. It was not simply a pregame tradition performed before a championship contest. It was an event shaped by a city’s loss, the country’s anxiety and the extraordinary precautions surrounding a president in public.

The pitch lasted only a moment. Its meaning came from everything surrounding it: the roar of the crowd, the visible symbols of mourning, the security presence and the shared recognition that baseball’s return could not erase what had happened. For those who were there, the noise remains as vivid as the throw.