SHIFT HAPPENS
HELLO, again. Today we study Einstein’s theory of relativity and his conclusion that you can’t pick your relatives. And as Confuse-us said, “The small of the back is always opposite the large of the stomach.”
And if I’m making no sense, you ain’t read nothin’ yet
My friend Marty retired to Florida, but became bored. So he took a parttime job at Wal-Mart. A pleasant man, he was placed at the refunds-and-complaints desk.
On his first day, a woman set a box of Cheerios before him, then asked for a refund. Marty said she would need to produce the receipt.
“I don’t have one,” she said, “it was a gift.”
Stuck for a reply, he gave her a store credit.
Naturally, that brings us to Sunday night’s Indians-Astros telecast. With two outs, bases empty in the top of the ninth and Houston up, 3-1, ESPN presented this graphic: “Win probability: Cleveland 1%, Houston 99%.”
Yet again, what ESPN presented to a national audience, no minimally well-adjusted chimpanzee would have posted unless under threat of immediate use in medical experiments.
But as the obituary for the TV pitchman Billy Mays read halfway through, “But wait, there’s more!”
During that same at-bat, the Astros performed a senselessly radical shift against lefty-swinging Yonder Alonso, thus the area between third and second was vacated. The conspicuous was then spoken by Alex Rodriguez and Matt Vasgersian: Alonso merely had to bunt toward the open area and the tying run would bat.
But Houston’s senselessness wasn’t so senseless. Alonso grounded out directly into that shift — to deep second base — for the final out. Stunningly stupid, yet, by modern, gift-wrapped Cheerios standards, unsurprising. Small wonder Cleveland became a 99-1 shot.
To be fair, although Alonso’s last-out “launch angle” was low, its “exit velocity” was up there.
The next night, the Mets successfully played, “Top That,” the new big league game that demonstrates how the highest paid players and managers at baseball’s highest level give fresh meaning to “stoop ball.”
In the sixth the Mets were up, 1-0, with Marlins on first and second and two outs, when they shifted against lefty Justin Bour, a shift that put third baseman Luis Guillorme at shortstop. And when pitcher Jerry Blevins faked a pickoff throw to second, it was Guillorme who sneaked in to bait the runner.
Wait! That meant no one was covering third! Nurse!
Take it, Ron Darling and Keith Hernandez: “You can just run to third. You can just run to third! Right now!” And Starlin Castro frolicked from second into third with — you should excuse the expression — a stolen base.
“This game,” said Darling, “is unwatchable at times, where they’ve taken it.” Let there be light!
Bour walked, then Blevins was relieved. Blevins was one of 10 pitchers, a primary reason why a 2-0, 8½-inning game ran nearly three hours.
Honorable mentions: Sunday, the Marlins led the Braves, 9-4, in the ninth. Kyle Barraclough had retired the Braves on 10 pitches in the eighth, but manager Don Mattingly would have no more of that. Two relievers and six runs later, the Marlins were 10-9 losers.
Saturday, Cubs manager Joe Maddon, who similarly tried to blow the 2016 World Series, kept pressing his bet, mining for a reliever the last-place Reds could beat. Five of his relievers had pitched a total of five innings, allowing just one hit.
But his sixth, Justin Wilson, got ’er done. He never retired a batter. He allowed a hit, walked three. The Cubs lost, 5-4.
And as they, and most 21st Century managers have proven, they would do it again, and again, then again.
How far is it to the center of town? Half way.