Freddie Freeman portrays Kirk Gibson during the Dodgers' Game 1 win of the World Series

A one-legged batsman.

A World Series walk-off home run.

The Dodgers' Game 1 win came one step short of defeat to a stunned opponent.

Unlikely, impossible, has this really happened again?

Did Freddie Freeman just become Kirk Gibson and relive the franchise's greatest moment 36 years and endless heartbreak later?

It sure sounded that way Friday night when the ball bounced off Freeman's bat in the 10th inning against New York Yankees pitcher Nestor Cortes like it was a pack of fireworks.

It really felt that way as the ball flew into the pavilion on the right as Dodger Stadium rolled and shook with a roar that could be heard as far away as Times Square.

It really looked like this: Freeman waved his bat in the air like a magic wand, then dropped it and hobbled around the bases while his teammates danced at home plate like they had just won a championship.

It really seemed that way when Gibson 2.0 showed up, as Freeman's grand slam gave the Dodgers a 6-3 victory that was insanely eerie in its similarity to the franchise's great World Series moment in 1988.

“Other than the punches, everything was the same,” Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said.

Even the dagger supplied seemed to carry the same deadly weight.

In 1988, the mighty Oakland A's were so shaken by Gibson's great Game 1 that they managed just one more win in a series that marked the Dodgers' last season-long championship.

In 1988, the Dodgers were so enthralled by their captivated hero that they played the rest of the series in his honor, forever inspired by Gibson's surreal act of toughness.

On Friday, the Yankees felt the same devastation.

They wasted six one-run innings from starter Gerrit Cole. They wasted a mammoth home run from Giancarlo Stanton. They wasted a run in the 10th inning, which came on two stolen bases and a fielder's choice.

Like the A's, they had this game. Like the A's, they blew it. And like the A's, they can be done.

“This might be the greatest baseball moment I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some great moments,” Roberts said.

Arguably one of October's greatest baseball moments ever, it was the first walk-off grand slam in World Series history.

“It’s kind of amazing,” Freeman said.

When asked to compare the impact of that goal with the impact of Gibson, Roberts said: “I think we win three more games, that will be right up there.”

Will history repeat itself? History has already repeated itself.

Freeman, like Gibson, is suffering from a painful leg injury, in his case a severe ankle sprain, that left him with no home runs and one RBI in the playoffs.

Like Gibson, Freeman spent virtually every day receiving hours of treatment for his injury and actually missed three playoff games because it was felt he wasn't helping the team.

Like Gibson, no one on the other team believed in him, the Yankees intentionally walked Mookie Betts after Gavin Lux walked and Tommy Edman singled, and both runners advanced after a Shohei Ohtani foul.

Freeman appeared. First pitch. crack. Woosh. The ball disappears into the sky. Freeman disappears into a crowd.

“It felt like nothing, just kind of floating,” Freeman said. “These are the kinds of things when you're 5 years old and you're playing Wiffle ball in the backyard with your two older brothers, these are the scenarios you dream about… this is the best thing ever.”

It was the capstone of a Dodger run, with Blake Treinen retiring Aaron Judge on a popout with two runners on base to end the ninth.

“Pure elation,” Roberts said. “You don’t see teams celebrating after a game or a walk-off like that, but I just think it was definitely warranted.”

The Dodgers scored first with one out in the fifth when Señor October Kiké Hernández placed a ball just beyond the reach of right fielder Juan Soto and the ball bounced into the corner for a triple. Moments later, Will Smith passed a ball to Soto, who scored Hernández.

The Yankees needed only three batters to tie the score, Juan Soto leading off the sixth with a sharp single to left, and one of three Judge strikes later, Stanton smashed a hanging knuckle curve 412 feet into the left field corner for a two- Run Homer.

The Dodgers then came back to tie the game in the eighth when Ohtani crossed a ball off the centerfield fence for a double, then stormed to third when Gleyber Torres misdirected the relay. Four pitches later, Betts hit a line drive to tie the game and set up Freeman's heroics.

Afterwards, Freeman was so full of adrenaline that he seemed like he wanted to jump out of his skin.

“I want to go through this table and attack all of you,” he said during his postgame press conference. “That's pretty cool. It’s going to be hard to sleep tonight.”

Fans cheer as Freddie Freeman drops his bat after hitting a walk-off grand slam in the 10th inning of Game 1 of the World Series on Friday.

(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)

It was a fitting end to an evening that began with a tribute to the late Fernando Valenzuela. Three days after his death, in the Dodgers' first game in his absence, Valenzuela Chavez filled Ravine with a power that translated into Freeman's shot.

Tears were shed during a pregame ceremony, there was a breathtakingly long moment of silence, his family stood on the third base line during pregame introductions, and on the back of the mound next to it was a first pitch with the number 34 painted in the dirt.

Almost every time there was a fan on the video board, that fan would turn their back to the camera to show that they were wearing a Valenzuela jersey. Jack Flaherty, the Dodgers starter who allowed two runs in 5 ⅓ innings, even wore a Fernando Valenuzela jersey to the game.

As the memorial service ended, a chant rang out, wafting through the stadium like a warm breeze from the border.

“Fer-nan-do…Fer-nan-do…Fer-nan-do!”

Ten innings later, that chant was replaced by another cheer.

“Fred-die…Fred-die…Fred-die.”

Somewhere Kirk Gibson was smiling.