In the movie “Breaking Away” Daniel Stern’s character Cyril stomps on a boulder next to his favorite swimming hole and says, “This is the spot where I lost all interest in life.” The reason? He saw Delores Roenicke with Fat Marvin. What they were doing was not revealed.

In my basement hangs a poster sized 1984 Minnesota Twins schedule. On that schedule is Friday, September 28, Cleveland. That is when I lost all interest in life. The reason? The Twins lost a game to the Cleveland Indians, 11-10.

It wasn’t just any loss. Only the most fanatic of Twins fans will know the game. Most will remember it after a gentle reminding. But there was nothing gentle about this game. This game slapped all Twins fans with a modicum of title hopes in the middle of the face. If you didn’t know it was over before, you knew it then.

Baseball purists would’ve called the 1984 American League West title chase a quasi-pennant race. Three teams, the Twins, the Kansas City Royals, and the California Angels, were barely over .500. The American League West was called the American League Worst.

It had been 14 years since the last time the Twins were in a pennant chase. Post-season was something other teams did. But, for this long suffering Twins fan it was enough, any table scrap will do for a hungry dog.

The Twins won their final home game on Sunday giving them an 80-75 record, tied with the Royals for first place. California was 78-78, two and a half games back. In the final seven days of the season the Twins would have three games in Chicago and four in Cleveland.

On Monday in Comiskey Park, the Twins, behind Frank Viola’s 18th victory and Kent Hrbek’s 27th home run, defeated the White Sox for their fifth straight victory. Despite the win, the Twins dipped to a half-game out because the Royals swept a doubleheader from the Angels. The Angels were now out of contention.

Over in Pittsburgh, the Chicago Cubs won the National League Eastern Division title behind the pitching of Rick Sutcliffe.

As the Comiskey Park scoreboard showed a replay of the Cubs celebration, Twins players watched and dreamed of their own champagne party. I sat back in my sectional and dreamed of this fantasy World Series: Twins vs. Cubs. The Twins playing in Wrigley Field, it couldn’t get any better than that. The baseball gods can be in a good mood sometimes, can’t they?

Well, on Tuesday, the Twins lost, and on Wednesday, the same day A.L. Championship Series and World Series tickets went on sale at the Metrodome, they lost again. The Royals split their final two games against the Angels and the Twins were suddenly a game and a half out with four games to play.

It was time to whip out the pencil and paper and start to figure out scenarios that would give the Twins a pennant and their destined World Series meeting with the Cubs.

The Twins slumped into Cleveland with an 81-77 record. The Royals were 83-76 with three games left in Oakland. If the Royals lost all three, the Twins would need to win three out of four to take the title. If the Royals win one of three, the Twins would need to win all four. If the Royals win two, the Twins would need to win all four to tie. And if the Royals win all three….

It seemed appropriate that the Twins, a team no one believed in, in a pennant chase no one watched, in a division called the American League Worst, was in everyone’s favorite joke city, Cleveland. The Cleveland Indians were the worst franchise in the American League with the worst stadium in the worst location. When full, Municipal Stadium is actually a wonderful place to be, but, when empty, it is dark and cavernous. The emptiness can swallow you up. The Twins will have to manufacture their own momentum, the atmosphere of a crowd won’t be there.

Okay, now’s the time to mention those two little words that can cause any longtime Twins fan’s brow to furl and produce convulsions in the most stoic of Minnesotans. And they aren’t “road construction.” They are “Ron Davis”. RD.

There he is, number 39, leaning forward having just thrown another high straight fastball. There is a loud crack, suddenly his head jerks and turns to follow the flight of the baseball he just delivered, rising, then descending in its arc, finally landing in the seats 400 feet away. There he is, receiving a new baseball from the umpire, holding it with his long fingers. He is looking at the baseball as if it was the enemy and wondering what kind of evil this sphere would bring this time. As if, once released from his fingers, its destination was out of his control. Where would this baseball go?

On Thursday a two-run homerun by Tim Laudner in the seventh and a solo homerun by Ron Washington in the eighth gave the Twins a 3-0 lead into the bottom of the eighth.

Twins starter Mike Smithson, with Davis warming up in the bullpen, allows a run on a lead-off double followed by a single. Davis is brought into the game and he walks the first batter. Three batters later the Indians tie the score and the game goes to the ninth with a tie score. Twins fans across the state shake their heads, it’s going to happen again.

The Twins fail to score in the top half and Davis manages to get the first two batters out in the home half when journeyman Jamie Quirk approaches the plate.

Quirk had entered the game at the top of the inning after Cleveland’s starting catcher was lifted for a pinch runner. The Indians had signed him four days earlier as an emergency catcher. The emergency had arrived.

As Quirk stood at the plate, Davis held the baseball in his right hand. Where would the baseball go? It went into the second deck inside the right field foul pole. Right fielder Tom Brunansky collapsed into the fence as if trying to disappear into it. Quirk circled the bases, the Twins walked off, emergency dispersed.

The long meandering career of Jamie Quirk, who played four positions for seven teams in 18 years, had crossed with the Twins little title chase and gave it a severe blow. It was his only atbat for the Indians.

The Twins would have to win their three remaining games to have a chance at a title. Two out of three would mean the Royals would have to lose all three and there would be a play-off. How would the boys rebound from this crushing defeat? What would Friday, September 28, bring?

Friday brought ace Frank Viola, on three days rest, to the mound. The boys showed little effect from the night before as they scored ten runs in the first three innings and lead 10-2 going into the bottom of the sixth.

I sat back in my sectional. It was going to happen, we would now wait for this game to end and certainly KC would lose their game in Oakland. There would be another game tomorrow.

The Indians started the sixth with an out and a homer, 10-3. Then two singles and a walk loaded the bases. Could it be? Naw, Viola’s pitching, no problem. A single, two more runs. A two-out double, another run, 10-6. With runners on second and third the suddenly tired Viola is lifted for Rick Lysander.

Lysander gets a ground ball hit to third baseman Gary Gaetti and there’s a sigh of relief, the third out. But, Gaetti’s throw short hops Hrbek at first, the ball bounces off Herbie’s chest and rolls away. Then, as a metaphor for the entire season and this putrid little pennant chase, Hrbek, on his hands and knees, crawls forward for the ball but he can’t reach it. The batter is safe and a run scores. Two more runs follow before that third out is recorded and the score is 10-9.

But, the die has been cast. It isn’t whether the Twins can hold the lead, it’s how the Twins will lose the game. Like hearing the whir of a dentist’s drill, you know what’s coming next, and it isn’t going to be pleasant, for Davis is in the bullpen.

The Twins still had the lead in the eighth with one out and no one on base when RD entered the game. Whir, whir. He retired the first batter he faced, but the next batter, Joe Carter, blasted a homerun and the score was tied, 10-10. Whir, whir.

Meanwhile, the Twins batters had put their bats to rest. They scored no runs in the final six innings, managing just two base hits, none after the sixth inning.

Davis started the bottom of the ninth by walking two batters. Twins Manager Billy Gardner had seen enough, or had he seen it before? Rookie lefthander Eddie Hodge was brought in to try to reverse the wheels of destiny.

Eddie Hodge?

A single to the first batter loaded the bases bringing up the pesky Brett Butler.

I sat back in my sectional. I pursed my lips, let’s get this over with. Butler obliged with a single and the Twins lost their second walk-off in two nights and their pennant hopes severely crippled.

After the game Gaetti, referring to his throwing error that kept the sixth inning alive, muttered perhaps the most honest and depressing quote in Twins history. “It’s hard to throw with both hands around your neck,” he said. “It’s hard to throw with your elbow.”

Later that night I listened to the kitchen radio on a static filled station as the Royals defeated the A’s to clinch the Western Division title.

Dark and ornery, I hurled a tennis ball at our parakeet because it was too happy, it was singing too loud. If not for the cage the poor thing might have bit the dust along with the Twins.

I still enjoy Twins baseball and have been a fan every day since. But now I consider myself more of an observer than a fanatic. I appreciate a good play or a good game or a good season, and I am disappointed when the opposite occurs. I try not to take them or myself too seriously.

Is it better? I don’t know. I just keep myself on an even keel now because on September 28, 1984, I lost all interest in life.