The view was from the tube yesterday, but the picture was agonizingly similar to the on-the-scene experience in Fenway Park last Wednesday. There was massive Bob Gibson mowing down the hapless Red Sox as Lou Brock ran wild on the bases and Roger Maris came through in the clutch.

It was the fourth game of the 1967 World Series and St. Louis' high-flying Cardinals took a 3-1 lead over the Boston Red Sox by a painful 6-0 count.

When they come around to handing out the Most Valuable Player awards for this Series, the smoke-throwing Gibson will have to be a leading contender. In 18 innings, he has surrendered only 11 hits--five yesterday--and one run.

Despite the pressure generated by the $10,000 swag ticketed for each member of the victors, Gibson has made only one, miserable mistake against Boston. In the third inning of the first game, he let pitcher Jose Santiago hit a home run; only one other runner has reached third base in the two games.

Santiago was on the mound again yesterday for the Bosox. This time he lasted two thirds of an inning. The supersonic Brock beat out an infield hit. As he danced off first, and the NBC cameras zoomed in on Santiago, you could see fear clutching Jose's pitching hand.

Brock has run at will on the Red Sox pitchers and catchers. He steals bases, provokes throwing errors and rattles teams. He led away and Santiago gave up a single to Curt Flood. Then the Rajah stepped to the plate. Roger Maris--the guy who broke the Babe's record.

Maris cracked a double, driving in Brock and Flood, moved to third on a long fly and scored himself on Tim McCarver's single. The Sox were already dead, but Julian Javier and Dal Maxvill chipped in singles to rescue McCarver, running the count to 4-0.

The third of Boston's five pitchers--right-hander Jerry Stephenson--yielded St. Louis' last two runs in the third. Orlando Cepeda and the hard-hitting Javier slugged doubles to pace the rally.

This afternoon Gentleman Jim Lonborg, author of a brilliant one-hit shut-out Thursday will try to stave off the inevitability of St. Louis' eventual victory.