LOS ANGELES — Haven’t we seen this story before?

Gimpy superstar, trying to persevere while favoring an injury, turns on one pitch and not only walks off Game 1 of the World Series but maybe changes the tone of the whole shebang.

I know. It’s near sacrilege to compare anything to Kirk Gibson’s iconic 1988 home run, the one that ended Game 1 of that series and probably did in the Oakland A’s before they realized what was happening.

But as soon as Freddie Freeman turned on Nester Cortes’ 93 mph four-seam fastball on Friday night and sent it on an arc into the right-field pavilion, turning a 3-2 New York Yankees lead into a 6-3 Dodgers victory in Game 1 of this World Series … well, if you were also here that October night 36 years ago, you too might have had chills running up your spine.

Just like then, the ball disappeared into a sea of delirious fans. Just like then, Freeman was mobbed by teammates at home plate. Just like then, the crowd – announced at 52,394 – would not shut up for a good, long time.

“That’s iconic,” Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said, when asked about the comparison. “If we win three more games, that’ll be right up there with it.

“(It) might be the greatest baseball moment I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve witnessed some great ones. As the inning started, you’re just trying to think about getting Shohei (Ohtani, who flied out for the second out of the 10th inning) to the plate. Once they decided to walk Mookie (Betts, to load the bases), I just felt good with Freddie at the plate. And just that swing, you knew it was gone.”

Yes, the circumstances were different. Freeman has one good leg, his left. His right ankle, which he severely sprained the final week of the regular season, has limited him through the first two rounds of the postseason, and that probably contributed to a 1-for-17 slump through the end of the National League Championship Series against the New York Mets.

Gibby, of course, had no good legs at the moment of his unforgettable home run. The future NL MVP wasn’t even in the lineup the night of that Game 1 against the A’s, and was only called on for that ninth inning pinch-hit opportunity because Manager Tom Lasorda figured he had one good swing in him.

Even there, while hitting a home run for the ages, Gibby didn’t make history. Freddie did, because this was the first walk-off grand slam in the 120 years of the World Series.

It remains to be seen if this will have the same effect on the Yankees as that 1988 home run did on the A’s, a 104-victory team during that regular season that was heavily favored to win it all.

But this has to have been a similar gut punch. Right?

“Win, lose, or draw tomorrow, we’ll be ready to roll,” Yankees manager Aaron Boone said. “We’ve already talked about it. We’re good.”

We’ll see.

We know this for sure: This is the stuff you dream about as a kid. To do it in real life, on the game’s grandest stage?

“It felt like nothing, just kind of floating,” Freeman said when asked how it felt rounding the bases. “Those are the kind of things, when you’re 5 years old with your two older brothers and you’re playing wiffle ball in the backyard, those are the scenarios you dream about, two outs, bases loaded in a World Series game.

“For it to actually happen and get a home run and walk it off to give us a 1-0 lead, that’s as good as it gets right there.”

Freeman was reminded in the interview room that he’d obviously seen clips of the Gibson home run plenty of times on the video board here.

“I played the whole game, though,” he responded to laughter.

“When you get told you do something (for the first time) in this game that’s been around a very long time … I love the history of this game. To be a part of it, it’s special. I’ve been playing this game a long time, and to come up in those moments, you dream about those moments. Even when you’re 35 and been in the league for 15 years, you want to be a part of those.”

When Freeman disentangled from the congratulatory mob at home plate, he ran to the backstop screen to celebrate with his father, Fred.

“He’s been throwing me batting practice since I can remember,” Freddie said. “My swing is because of him. My approach is because of him. I am who I am because of him.

“It was kind of spur of the moment. I saw him hugging a lot of people back there … I just wanted to share that with him because he’s been there. He’s been through a lot in his life, too, and just to have a moment with that, I just wanted to be a part of that with him in that moment.”

It has been a tremendously emotional season for Freeman, not the least because of the health issues with his son, Max, who was hospitalized in July and diagnosed with Guillain-Barre syndrome.

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The night Freeman rejoined the team after his son had become to recover, the noise and the appreciation and the love that welcomed him back had an impact on him.

“That first day I came back, that’s as special as it gets to make my family and I feel the love and the support,” he said. “I tried to reciprocate it that night and thanking them and all this. But I think they appreciate this one a little bit more three months later.

“Just the love, 53,000, 54,000 people every single night. Doesn’t matter if it’s a Monday, Tuesday throughout the course of the season, they’re here supporting us.”

Maybe this had something to do with the reaction Friday night: It’s been six seasons – OK, six long seasons – since the last World Series game at Dodger Stadium. Considering that the 2020 title was achieved in Arlington, Texas, and that L.A. fans are still waiting for a parade, maybe there was a torrent of emotion waiting to be unleashed.

And who knows? Maybe history will repeat itself.

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