General manager Joe Garagiola Jr. was preparing to drive his daughter Valerie to high school before heading to Bank One Ballpark (now Chase Field), where the Diamondbacks were scheduled to play Colorado, with a 1½-game lead in the National League West and 19 games left.
About 1,800 miles away, managing general partner Jerry Colangelo planned to get a cup of coffee at a Milwaukee hotel before participating in Major League Baseball owners’ quarterly meetings.
But infielder Craig Counsell knew something wasn’t right when his wife, Michelle, grabbed her glasses before squinting at the television set on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001.
“She really didn't believe what she was seeing on the TV,” Counsell recalled.
Neither did the entire world, which watched in horror and panic as two hijacked planes crashed into the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center in New York City, followed by plane crashes at the Pentagon and in a Pennsylvania field.
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The team never lost perspective, even after playing the entire season with the singular goal of winning a World Series. When the players returned from a Ground Zero visit to lend support to the workers, we were unsettled to see their long faces as they walked from the hallway to the Yankee Stadium visitors’ clubhouse and their pained descriptions of what they witnessed.
The attacks killed 3,000 in less than two hours.
“I still struggle to forgive the people that were behind that,” first baseman Mark Grace said. “It was life changing, not just for myself but all of us.”
Suddenly, Grace and other veteran teammates who possessed a singular quest to win a World Series title were put in a holding pattern for an indefinite period because of the deadliest terrorist attack in American history that still impacts everyday life 25 years later.
A giant flag is unfolded before Game One of the World Series on Oct. 28, 2001.
“I can remember somebody asking me, ‘Well, how long do you think it'll take to get back to normal?’“ Garagiola said. “And I said, ‘What's normal? This is the new normal. Things are never going to be like they were on Sept. 10. The world is different.’
“So this notion that somehow we're going to put it all back? No, there is no putting it back. There is now this reality and we're a part of that. And so we kind of go forward.”
Roger Riley, the Diamondbacks’ senior director of team travel, was unaware of the attacks until he was alerted by Valerie Dietrich, Garagiola’s secretary, before leaving his home.
Upon arrival at the ballpark, Riley received a call from pitcher Bobby Witt, who had flown to his Dallas-Fort Worth area home to visit his family after beating San Diego two days earlier but couldn’t rejoin his teammates because of a North American airspace ground stop following the morning attacks.
“And then I get a call from (team president) Rich Dozer, who was in Milwaukee for the owners meetings,” Riley said. “They were trying to return and wanted to see if I could help in any way. I wish I had that power. And that was the morning.”
Riley also received some chilling words from Witt, whose father was a fireman in the Boston area.
“He relayed what his dad had said that because of all that airplane fuel going down (the towers), those buildings were going to collapse,” Riley recalled.
Employees were asked to evacuate Bank One Ballpark by noon so the building could be secured.
The Rockies’ traveling party, meanwhile, was relegated to following television reports in the hotel suites of selected players.
“We had dinner at Hooters because it was the only restaurant open that was close to our hotel,” recalled reliever Mike Myers, who was traded to the Diamondbacks the next season and currently serves as a special assistant to the Major League Baseball Players Association.
Myers lived south of Denver, and his wife reported that military jets zoomed over their home throughout the next two days.
“It was super scary,” Myers said of the isolation from his family. “I told them to hang out in the basement.”
The Diamondbacks conducted a 90-minute workout at their virtually empty stadium the following day with no music played on the public address system. They prepared for a 10-day trip in the event air travel restrictions were lifted, but were mindful that thousands of lives were lost and families were affected by the attacks.
“You’re talking about life and death here,” ace left-hander Randy Johnson said after the workout. “You’re not talking about wins and losses.”
Baseball’s decision to play ball again
The next day, MLB Commissioner Bud Selig announced play would resume Sept. 17, with 91 postponed games rescheduled for the week of Oct. 1.
“We had to get back to healing the nation,” said pitcher Brian Anderson, the Diamondbacks’ player representative to the MLBPA and now a color analyst for the Tampa Bay Rays. “We had to get back to our normal routines, as hard as that may have seemed.
“I’m sure it was a fine line MLB was walking. I think the end of that baseball season did a lot for the country.”
The D-backs lent their charter plane to the Rockies to return to Denver. But everyone remained on edge.
Arizona Diamondbacks pitcher Curt Schilling, left, celebrates with first baseman Mark Grace as the Diamondbacks beat the Cardinals 1-0 during game one of the playoffs at Bank One Ballpark in Phoenix in October 2001.
During one of Arizona’s post 9/11 workouts, a plane flew over Bank One Ballpark — causing an eerie pause during batting practice.
“I remember all day and night those fighter jets were circling and protecting the Valley,” Grace said. “I remember thinking, ‘This is real.’ ”
Witt, meanwhile, missed the workout but found a creative way to return to Phoenix.
“I had a buddy who was in Arizona and was returning to Texas,” Witt said. “He had a rental car, so I drove my car, met him in El Paso, and we switched cars.”
The resumption of play also meant returning to charter flights, with heightened security starting with their flight to Denver.
“I think everybody was a little nervous, even though we knew all the passengers on the plane,” slugger Luis Gonzalez recalled. “We knew we were part of the healing process for a lot of people. But I remember being kind of scared a little bit, getting on the plane and saying, ‘Oh my gosh, we're going to be up in the air. We're an open target.’
“But everything just kind of worked out. And then our President (George W. Bush) was always preaching that we can't be afraid. We got to go out there and continue to live our lives and do things. So I think the wording and everything that was done and said was played out perfectly.”
The Diamondbacks’ first post 9/11 game at Coors Field provided an unprecedented mix of emotion and unity during pregame ceremonies.
An American flag was unveiled, with players, managers and coaches participating in the ceremony while Lee Greenwood sang “God Bless the U.S.A.”
“I was holding hands with (Rockies manager) Buddy Bell and another Rockies player,” Grace recalled. “There were a bunch of guys sobbing, including me, proud to be an American. I was certainly overcome by emotion, and baseball did a really good job of helping the country get entertained by something again after one of the biggest travesties of our lifetimes.”
Said Myers: “I grew up listening to that song. My parents instilled country music in me. Knowing the meaning of that song, it was tear-jerking.”
Patriotism accompanied the Diamondbacks to their next series in Los Angeles. Slightly less than a year after Tommy Lasorda directed the U.S. to a stunning upset of Cuba in the gold medal game in the 2000 Olympics in Sydney, Australia, the retired Dodgers Hall of Fame manager was presented with a batter’s box-sized cake on his 74th birthday while the Dodger Stadium public address system played Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” as the videoboard displayed a montage of his life.
After watching his video while standing near home plate, Lasorda seized the moment by delivering a rousing speech to more than 40,000 fired-up fans, reminding them of their service as Americans in the wake of the 9/11 attacks.
Diamondbacks dedicated security plans for home field
Resuming play on the road gave the D-backs an extra week to install security measures for their remaining nine home games and the playoffs. This took on greater importance — especially because of the size of the ballpark and adjacent train tracks that posed potential security concerns.
Chuck Blalock, a veteran of the Phoenix Police Department, was assigned full-time to the Diamondbacks and worked with an array of law enforcement agencies that inspected everything from the air (for potential poisonous fumes) to bicycles (for improvised devices). Protection was fortified by canines and mounted police officers.
“It was all hands on deck,” Blalock recalled.
Ironically, Blalock said one of his biggest challenges occurred on the next trip at a historic hotel in Milwaukee, where he spent two hours in the lobby protecting the team’s luggage.
“We could not allow anybody to have anything commingled with our baggage, that it all had to be separate,” Blalock said.
After Arizona clinched a playoff berth with two games to spare, there was a growing sense of a potential showdown with the Yankees, who gained a massive legion of supporters that swelled with each playoff victory that paralleled nationwide patriotism.
“I think it really was more a case of people rooting for the Yankees that this would be a great thing for New York and really give New York something to feel good about in this aftermath,” Garagiola said.
“And we were fine with that. Nobody resented that.”
D-backs inform MLB about Ground Zero trip
The matchup crystallized four days before Game 1 of the World Series, but Mike Swanson made preparations more than three weeks in advance.
Swanson, the Diamondbacks’ senior director of public relations, alerted MLB officials that the Diamondbacks might be willing to lend moral support to the Ground Zero workers if they advance to the Series in New York.
Swanson was directed to Lisa Gong, a New York Police Department sergeant. As soon as the D-backs eliminated Atlanta in the National League Championship Series, Swanson explained the opportunity to the players, who voted to visit the Ground Zero workers less than 24 hours after Ray Charles performed “America the Beautiful” before the Diamondbacks’ Game 2 victory at Bank One.
“I was very proud of our entire organization," Colangelo said. “Our coaches, our players, everyone, because it had great impact with the patriotism that came forth because of 9/11 on top of what would normally be a very uplifting experience.”
Diamondbacks pitcher Curt Schilling (in a dark coat) hugs teammate Mark Grace after their 9-1 victory over the New York Yankees in Game One of the 2001 World Series in Phoenix. Schilling, the starting pitcher, was credited with the win.
The traveling party, which included all but one unidentified player, saw debris on some streets and businesses that hadn’t reopened after the attacks. They were told in the strictest terms not to take any photographs on their flip phones — whether it was inside the Ground Zero control center or at the firehouse. The team’s television crew wasn’t invited to the visit.
“This was a life and more death-type situation, and a national, if not worldwide, tragedy,” Swanson said. “The whole point was to let these people know that the Arizona Diamondbacks, the Randy Johnsons, the Curt Schillings, the Luis Gonzalezes care.”
Johnson, Schilling and Gonzalez, along with other selected players, spoke to workers in need of a spiritual lift. Swanson recalled one worker pulling out his phone to call his wife and children so Johnson could speak to them.
The most uplifting message, according to several participants, was delivered by Schilling, who six weeks earlier wrote an open letter to America that was published by ESPN (and inserted in the Diamondbacks’ postseason media guide) and emphasized the resiliency of America, and specifically New York, in the wake of the 9/11 attacks, and his appreciation for the first responders, NYPD and NY Fire Department workers, for their unselfish efforts.
Swanson, mindful of Schilling’s open letter, asked Schilling at the team hotel if he would be willing to speak to the Ground Zero workers.
Schilling obliged and expressed his appreciation and support for the workers in a passionate tone that left many in tears.
“That was one of the better talks,” Grace recalled. “It was very patriotic. It was very American in so many words.”
Gonzalez added: “It was pretty moving. And I don't think there was a lot of dry eyes in the whole place, just thanking them for what they were doing and just for being there and being a part of it.”
“I just spoke, and my only goal was to make sure that when we left, that they remembered us,” Schilling said in The Republic's August chapter of this D-backs 25th anniversary series. “That they remembered how much we truly felt about them. …
“I tried to make them understand that … ‘You guys might be excited that we’re here … but it doesn’t come close to how proud we are to be from the same place as you. Because what you’re doing is God’s work.’ ”
Unfortunately, the travel party felt helpless as they witnessed a seemingly bottomless hole where one of the towers once stood. Anderson recalled the smoke rising from the ground and compared it to the mouth of a volcano.
“There was a smell that I'd never smelled before,” Grace recalled. “I just told myself, ‘this is what death smells like.’ And once we left there, I didn't smell anymore. I never want to smell that smell, because I know exactly now what death smells like.”
Anderson said he and a few teammates were nearly unable to participate in the Diamondbacks' victory festivities following the World Series because of what he believes was a residual effect of the Ground Zero visit.
“I’m 100 percent convinced it was from being there all day, breathing that crap in,” said Anderson, who felt symptoms of chest discomfort toward the end of the Series and loaded up on aspirin to feel well enough to ride on one of the fire trucks.
“Then you heard about the lawsuits and people coming up with these weird cancers that were first responders that worked down there. You’re thinking to yourself, ‘I believe every bit of it.’ ”
From the outset, Brenly intended for the Diamondbacks to visit Ground Zero before their off-day workout at Yankee Stadium.
Arizona Diamondbacks manager Bob Brenly poses for a photo on Sept. 27, 2001.
“The first thing that popped into my head was, ‘I don't want the last thing I see before I go to bed at night to be Ground Zero smoking, guys coming out there with soot on their faces, with fire still burning,’“ Brenly recalled.
Before returning to the team hotel and later heading to Yankee Stadium, Brenly’s son, Michael, the team’s bat boy, asked his father for a Sharpie pen.
The younger Brenly, now a replay coordinator with the Boston Red Sox, asked rescue workers to sign his blue safety helmet.
“These guys were the heroes,” the elder Brenly said. “And I couldn’t have been prouder of Michael.”
D-backs, a Secret Service umpire and Yankee Stadium
For all the reports and data showing The Bronx as the most dangerous of New York’s five boroughs, “I felt we were in the safest place in the world,” said umpire Dale Scott, who worked home plate for Game 3 at Yankee Stadium, eight weeks after the attacks.
Scott and fellow umpire Jim Joyce arrived 3½ hours before first pitch (two hours earlier than normal), but they needed to show identification at the entrance before getting clearance from several layers of security before they arrived at the umpires’ room — where they were greeted by a visitor.
“He said, ‘I’m so-and-so with the United States Secret Service,’” Scott said. “I'm going to be dressed as an umpire when you go on in the field when the President throws the first pitch.”
Scott noticed the agent wore an earpiece and gave precise updates on President Bush’s location, as well as two fellow agents who were dressed as groundskeepers.
As they awaited President Bush’s arrival, Scott noticed the agent wore a bulletproof vest under his umpire’s windbreaker.
“He had a taser. He had a firearm. He had handcuffs. He had some zip ties,” Scott added.
The roof perimeter of Yankee Stadium and adjacent buildings were occupied by government snipers. Sniffing dogs went through the clubhouses of the Diamondbacks and Yankees several times.
Gonzalez and Swanson noticed the presence of an umpire they didn’t recognize during the pregame lineup exchange. Umpire Mark Hirschbeck, who was assigned to the left field line, remained in the tunnel to defuse any suspicions of a seventh “umpire.”
“You could tell that he was there for one reason, and one reason only,” Swanson said of the agent.
Meanwhile, Brenly marveled over Bush’s accuracy in throwing the first pitch while wearing a bulletproof vest under an NYFD jacket amid massive scrutiny.
“I still get tingles thinking about it,” Brenly said. “And then he came over to the first base line where (Yankees manager) Joe Torre and I were standing and I was thinking to myself, ‘What the hell do you say to the President of the United States after what he just did?’ So I said, ‘Nice pitch, Mr. President; you threw a strike.’ ”
Anderson was informed by Brenly six days in advance that he would start Game 3 and knew this would be the biggest game he would pitch — no matter how the rest of his career played out.
“For what the country was going through after what just happened, the fact we were playing the storied New York Yankees franchise up 2-0, them facing a must-win situation, and that it’s the first game in New York for the World Series (since 9/11),” Anderson said.
“Oh, and the president will be there to throw the ceremonial first pitch, and you’ll have to toe the rubber against Roger Clemens.”
Colorado Rockies' Ben Petrick makes a hit off of Arizona Diamondbacks' Brian Anderson during Sunday's July 1 game at Bank One Ballpark. The Bank One ad, visible from this TV view of home plate will change every inning. JULY 29, 2001 C4 Phot by Max Aecherer / Staff
Anderson arrived at Yankee Stadium about seven hours before first pitch, ate lunch, drank coffee and watched “Rudy” and “Hoosiers,” he said, “To pump you up, make you feel good, and then get ready.”
Once Anderson stepped on the field, he possessed tunnel vision and didn’t notice Bush throwing the first pitch or the snipers.
“I remember the atmosphere and the field feeling tiny because it was crowded,” Anderson said.
This was before the days of magnetometers at every gate, so entrance to the ballpark was accompanied by extra layers of security.
“And there were people that were spending big money for tickets in New York, and they weren't getting into the ballpark until the fourth inning,” Blalock said.
An unlikely profane salute from a religious leader
Security remained intact for the next two games, and Garagiola vividly remembered the police escort for the team buses from the Grand Hyatt to Yankee Stadium via Park Avenue.
“We go past this Catholic church the first day, and there’s nothing,” Garagiola recalled. “The second day, there’s a young priest. I guess he heard the noise from the day before. Now it’s (before) the third game (in New York) and by now someone has told him that’s the Diamondbacks in the buses.
“He’s out there in his cassock. And I’m not making this up. He gives us the double barrel,” Garagiola said with both middle fingers hoisted in the air.
“Come on, man. Only in New York.”
Said Brenly: “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”
When the Series returned to Phoenix for Game 6, Scott and his fellow umpires walked down the ramp to the umpires’ room as a visitor was leaving.
Arizona Diamondbacks fan Tim Wesley of Phoenix waves a flag and cheers as four F-16 fighter jets fly over Bank One Ballpark during the national anthem before game two of the World Series on Oct. 28, 2001. The D-backs won 4-1.
“Whoever it was, a policeman or agent from the FBI or Secret Service, he came out with a bomb-sniffing dog,” Scott said. “The security was phenomenal.”
The most emotional World Series concluded with the victorious team rallying from behind to win in three of the final four games, capped by a bloop single by Gonzalez over the head of Derek Jeter and Scott (the second base umpire that day), to highlight a stunning two-run rally in the ninth inning off Hall of Fame closer Mariano Rivera.
Through the smoke and debris resulting from the postgame celebration, Blalock noticed that patriotism reigned outside BOB.
“People loved being an American again,” Blalock recalled. “And I remember, after we won Game 7, I remember people walking by and high-fiving the cops for keeping them safe.
“For 30 years as a cop, it was up and down. There were times they hated your guts. But that was the time that they actually liked us.”
About 300,000 fans, many sporting Diamondbacks attire and American flags, saluted the team during a downtown parade three days later.

