The Fifth Beatle, the Comic, and the Captain: Keith Hernandez and a Very 1986 Talk Show

Yesterday marked Keith Hernandez’s 72nd birthday ,and if that doesn’t make you feel old, consider this: when Keith sat down on David Brenner’s Nightlife on December 1, 1986, over 38 years ago it had only been 35 days since the Mets won the World Series. Just over a month removed from Mookie’s grounder rolling through Buckner’s legs, and New York was still floating somewhere between disbelief and euphoria.

And there was Keith, the mustachioed captain of the newly crowned world champions, sitting across from one of America’s funniest men David Brenner who, fittingly, was wearing a bright blue Mets sweatshirt. Even Brenner, the ultimate Philly guy, had given in to the charm of that miracle Mets run.

For those who might not recall (or were too busy rewinding VHS tapes of Game 6), Nightlife was Brenner’s short-lived late-night talk show that aired weeknights from September 1986 to June 1987. Produced by Motown Productions and King World, it featured a house band led by the great Billy Preston yes, that Billy Preston, the “Fifth Beatle.”

Unlike The Tonight Show or Late Night with David Letterman, Brenner’s Nightlife was just a half-hour long, filmed in New York, and a little looser around the edges. Brenner wore sweaters instead of suits, opened with sketches instead of monologues, and treated his guests like neighbors at a dinner table ,assuming your neighbor happened to be a world champion first baseman with a Gold Glove and a pack of Marlboros.

(Full disclosure: I was lucky enough to have David Brenner on my own radio show years later, and he was tremendous sharp, generous, and as funny off-air as he was onstage. One of the best.)

The interview began with Brenner rolling Keith’s 1986 highlight reel , line drives, diving stops, and of course, that swing that got the Mets going late in Game 7 off Bruce Hurst. The crowd went nuts. Then came the moment of truth: what does a baseball hero do a month after conquering the world?

“I’ve just been relaxing around town,” Keith said. “The season’s so hectic. I’m ready to go down to the Caribbean for a couple of weeks… I love the sun.”

And then Brenner wearing that Mets sweatshirt with pride called him out on something every fan had noticed: the smokes.

“You just don’t think… why do you smoke?” Brenner asked.

Keith grinned, sheepishly. “It’s just nerves. I’ve been smoking since I was 20… Brenner jumped in with a grin: “I started when I was nine". Keith laughed, then added, “I only smoke at the park — it’s too nerve-wracking. It gives me something to do.”

That was quintessential Hernandez: brutally honest, a little self-deprecating, and utterly human.

One of the most revealing moments came when Brenner asked about the image of athletes — those godlike figures kids look up to. Keith didn’t flinch.

“I think Jim Bouton’s Ball Four shattered the image,” he said. “It showed athletes in a human light. We have our frailties. We drink, we get lonely, we’re night people. You play a night game, you come back to your hotel, and it takes an hour and a half to come down from that adrenaline. So yeah, we go out, we have a few beers.”

It was the perfect postscript to the wild, imperfect, lovable 1986 Mets — a team that was as real as it gets.

When Brenner asked what winning the World Series meant, Keith didn’t hesitate:

“It’s the greatest accomplishment,” he said. “You start in March and live with 24 guys every day. It’s seven months together, and to finally win it — there’s no greater feeling.”

But the real gem was when he told the story of the famous “rally seat”:

“I made the second out in the 10th inning of Game 6 and went into Davey’s office. I sat in his chair, pounded a few Buds, and when the rally started, I got up to get my glove . but stopped. I said, ‘Wait a minute. This seat’s got hits in it.’ So I stayed right there in Davey’s chair, and sure enough, Buckner had a ball go right through his legs.”

Classic Keith. Equal parts baseball logic and barstool superstition.

Brenner ever the curious observer ,pressed on. Why do players go into slumps? Why all the rituals?

Keith’s answer could’ve been straight from Yogi Berra’s philosophy class:

“90% of slumps are mental. You get tired physically and mentally. I’ve been lucky ,one slump a year, but they’ve been dandies.”

As for superstitions? “If I’m hot, I always have my donut and pine tar on the right, towel between my legs ,don’t take that wrong that’s my good luck setup. If things go bad, I switch it up. You stay with it until the well runs dry.”

By the end of the segment, Brenner asked Keith what he thought of New York fans. His face softened.

“They’re the greatest,” he said. “To be part of the resurgence and see 50,000 at Shea — it was a delight to bring the championship home. They waited a long time for it.”

That line — “They waited a long time for it” — still hits hard, especially coming from the man who helped make it happen.

That Nightlife interview is a time capsule: Keith at the height of his powers, Brenner at the top of his charm, both men swapping insight and wit like old pals. The 1986 Mets had just made history, and Brenner ,a comic who understood the New York soul ,gave their captain the perfect stage.

Close to thirty-nine years later, Keith Hernandez remains as beloved as ever , a voice in the booth, a storyteller, and still the guy who could make you believe that a chair in Davey Johnson’s office might just hold a few hits.

Happy 72nd, Mex. Here’s to lucky seats, late nights, and one unforgettable appearance on Nightlife.

Here is the full interview in all it's 1986 Glory :