Tag: baseball

Armando Galarraga, Jim Joyce, The First Hit of a Game Must be Clean

Blown Call Illustrates What to Do When Staring Down the Barrel of Perfection

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Most of the chatter about last night’s blown call that cost Detroit’s Armando Galarraga a perfect game has to do with whether Major League Baseball might overturn it, and the chances of the league implementing a more comprehensive replay policy.

More immediate, however, is the unwritten rulebook, one section of which calls for official scorers to mandate that the first hit of any game must be unequivocally clean. It’s designed to prevent second-guessing, should that hit—or error, depending on one’s perspective—end up being the only one the pitcher gives up on the night.

Last night brought the rule to field level. As umpire Jim Joyce has no doubt learned, any hit over the final inning(s) of a no-hitter should be beyond reproach. The moment that Joyce called Cleveland’s Jason Donald safe on a play that beat him by a full step, he was informed of this—first by Tigers manager Jim Leyland, then by a TV replay in his dressing room, and ever since by a legion of angry baseball bloggers. (Watch the play here.)

For the clearest perspective on the rule, turn to Donald himself.

“It was so bang-bang that I thought for sure I’d get called out because of everything at stake,” he told the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

Donald is all of 15 games into his big-league career, and knows things that Joyce, a 21-year veteran, had yet to learn.

Perspective can do wonders for a person, however. After watching the replay, Joyce tearfully apologized to Gallaraga and the Tigers, both in person and through the press. One of his takeaways from the experience clarified the parameters under which the Code takes precedence.

“This wasn’t a call,” he said in the Detroit News. “This was a history call. And I kicked the shit out of it.”

It’s not the first time this has happened to would-be perfection. As pointed out by ESPN.com, Milt Pappas was 26 outs into his own perfect game in 1972, when plate umpire Bruce Froemming ruled that a full-count pitch—close enough to argue—was a ball.

The Code mandates that any pitcher on the cusp of greatness has earned the benefit of any doubt that may exist. That concept could be seen in action yesterday, but not in Detroit—in Newport News, VA, in a collegiate summer league game.

There, pitcher Jharel Cotton of the Peninsula Pilots didn’t give up a hit until two were out in the eighth inning. At that point, a batter broke it up by beating out a bunt, as the third baseman’s hurried throw was off the mark. (We’ll forgive the indiscretion of bunting to break up a no-hitter; it was a 10-0 game, but college kids can’t be expected to know all the rules of their big-league brethren.)

Afterward, the Pilots convinced the league office to overturn the call, ruling it an error and preserving the no-no.

If only it was that easy for Jim Joyce.

– Jason

5
Carlos Gomez, Don't Showboat

Gomez Flips, Trips, Quips – and Ultimately Slips out of Trouble

Posted on by Jason Turbow

As has long been trumpeted in this space, the unwritten rules are less about on-field actions than the meaning behind those actions. It’s why something as innocuous as a stolen base can serve to enrage an entire roster should it occur at an inopportune moment.

The inverse is also true. Should a ballplayer do something that by most indicators is viewed as disrespectful, he can get away with it if the opposition understands where he’s coming from.

So it went last week with Milwaukee’s Carlos Gomez, who actually hit a trifecta of sorts in a game against the Twins.

He hit a monster home run, then admired it.

Then he flipped his bat—which clipped Minnesota catcher Joe Mauer’s wrist on the way down—and threw up his hands in victory.

Mauer waited for Gomez to circle the bases, then mentioned to him that he might want to be more careful in the future. Gomez—without even bothering to turn around, threw up his arms and, back to his opponent, gave Mauer wiggly fingered jazz hands, indicating that he wanted no part of whatever it was the catcher was trying to convey. (Watch it here.)

All of this for a home run that came while his team was trailing, 15-0.

None of this was even remotely okay. Gomez, however, had some things working in his favor.

Most immediately was the fact that he spent the previous two seasons in Minnesota, which gave the Twins a long taste of his exuberance in such situations. He even paid a visit to the opposing clubhouse before the game, to greet manager Ron Gardenhire and his former teammates.

Because they’d seen his act before, they knew it was not personal. (They also knew that he’d just come off the disabled list, and was especially excited to forge a strong start.)

“Just one of those moments that we know Go-Go can have every once in a while,” said Gardenhire in the Associated Press report. “He was excited, and it just happened.”

“We played with him the last couple years, that’s the type of player he is,” Twins starter Nick Blackburn told MLB.com. “It made me mad, but I shouldn’t be getting mad at stuff like that. I’m sure everyone on his team also knew he shouldn’t have done it, but that’s the type of guy he is. He gets so caught up in the moment.”

Even more importantly, Gomez recognized what he did, nearly as soon as he did it. Upon returning to the dugout, he was informed by teammate Joe Inglett that Mauer was offering words of caution, not talking smack.

Gomez regretted his actions immediately. After the game he offered blanket apologies for his actions.

“I didn’t even know the bat was going to hit him,” he said. “I’ll say again: I didn’t try to do this. . . . I had a good night, but you have to be more professional.”

MLB.com quoted him as saying, “Right now, I feel bad because Blackburn is one of the good friends I’ve got over there. I apologized because I don’t want to try to show him up.”

Gomez also addressed the notion of getting drilled the following day, adding, “I’m going to take it like a man because I know I did [something] bad.”

That might have been enough to get him off the hook; he wasn’t hit by a pitch for the remainder of the series.

– Jason

0
No-Hitter Etiquette, Roy Halladay

Nearly Perfect Perfect-Game Decorum During Halladay’s Gem

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Roy Halladay’s perfect game on Saturday was a study in execution. Pitching dominance is one thing, but the performance also served to illustrate any number of lessons having to do with no-hitter decorum.

Don’t talk to the pitcher

The Code says to never address a pitcher as he’s throwing a no-hitter. Because Halladay generally doesn’t talk to teammates through the course of any of his starts, this wasn’t difficult to pull off. When asked the point at which his teammates started avoiding him, he said, “2:30, 3 o’clock this afternoon.”

Change nothing
Routines are important in baseball. According to superstition, should somebody change something—anything—they could well find themselves serving up an unintentional jinx.

According to tradition, various members of the Phillies kept up with whatever they’d been doing:

  • General manager Ruben Amaro Jr. had planned to spend only two innings watching the game from the stands, but as Halladay piled up out after out, he opted not to move.
  • In the bullpen, relievers went through their usual routines for preparing to enter the game, even though it was clear that none of them would be needed.
  • Philadelphia’s reserve players didn’t move from their spots on the bench after the sixth inning; pitching coach Rich Dubee didn’t uncross his legs for the final three frames.
  • In the broadcast booth, TV play-by-play man Tom McCarthy refrained from getting up for his usual seventh-inning break. (Although he did discuss the perfect game on the air. So much for that jinx.)

Respect greatness
The Phillies’ bench wasn’t the only location in the ballpark for perfect- game decorum. In its review of the game, Baseball Daily Digest reported that Marlins outfielder Chris Coghlan—already upset by several outside pitches that had been called strikes by umpire Mike Dimuro, including a first-inning third-strike call that would have been ball four—snapped, “That was off the plate!” after a similar third-strike call in the seventh inning.

Still, when asked about the pitches after the game, Coghlan demurred.
“I don’t want to talk about the strike zone, because that’s a discredit to what (Halladay) did,” he said in the MLB.com report. “He was moving the ball all over, to both sides of the plate. Even when he got to 2-2, 3-2, he was able to locate offspeed pitches. He threw a great game.”

Opposing jinxes
While teammates are expected to refrain from jinxing greatness, the same criteria needn’t apply to the opposition. Gary Matthews reported that the Sun Life Stadium grounds crew, stationed near the dugout, spoke about the no-hitter with considerable volume, going so far as to ask Matthews if he was aware of it.

Meanwhile, reports Baseball Daily Digest, the Marlins’ TV crew did its part to jinx the effort on the air. (To be fair, they could be seen as simply doing their jobs as announcers. Read BDD’s account and judge for yourself.)

Fourth inning
This was the inning the Marlins’ TV announcers, Rich Waltz and Tommy Hutton, began to try to jinx the perfect game, saying that Halladay had been perfect thus far and that he’s never thrown a no-hitter.

Seventh inning
The Marlins TV announcers’ jinx was in full effect. They began to show highlights of Dallas Braden’s perfect game. It became clear to me that when you TRY to jinx something, it really doesn’t work.

Eighth inning
Now the TV announcers are doing whatever they can do, bringing up the fact that Halladay has never thrown a no-hitter and that in his second ever start, he had a no-hitter going with two outs in the ninth when Bobby Higginson hit a solo homerun.

It can be argued that Marlins manager Fredi Gonzalez fit into this category by sending three straight pinch-hitters to the plate in the ninth, in an effort to get to Halladay. Should the score have been 4-0, this could have been seen as a clear sign of disrespect for the moment. Because it was a 1-0 game, however, Gonzalez had wide-reaching Code immunity to do whatever he felt gave his team the best chance to get back into the game.

Update: McCarthy on TV, and Philadelphia’s radio play-by-play man, Scott Franzke, discussed the stresses of calling a perfect game with The Sporting News.

McCarthy: As for the superstitions, I don’t get caught up in them because I think it would be a disservice to the listeners or the viewers. I didn’t want to pound the fact that it was a perfect game, but I always feel like it is important to tell the story. You have to. I think I said no-hitter a few times and perfect game twice, but I didn’t say it over and over again. I have always felt that way. I thought the video [the telecast showed video of Jim Bunning’s perfect game for the Phillies] was important to put the outing into perspective and I was excited that we had it handy. With all of that said, I did stay in the booth the whole time and not move.

Franzke: I don’t think I shied away from saying the actual words. It’s funny that I mention it a number of times that he’s been perfect. I can’t tell you when I might have said the words perfect game together. I sit next to, obviously, an ex-player and he has a lot of things ingrained in his mind – in terms of Larry Anderson – from the days of being on a bench and being with guys who may be in the process of throwing a no-hitter. He’s got certain superstitions, but I’ve always said, look, especially on radio, there’s just no way around it. You have to say it. You have to let people know what’s going on. You have to understand that two-thirds of your audience at any given moment are either turning on the radio or turning off the radio. They are getting in and out of their cars, by and large, so you have to make them aware, constantly, of what’s going on.

Again, I don’t know whether I did it enough, whether I do it too much, but I certainly don’t try to avoid saying the words just because of a ball player’s superstition or whatever superstition the fans have.

– Jason

2
This Week in the Unwritten Rules

This Week in the Unwritten Rules

Posted on by Jason Turbow

May 23
Visual evidence emerges that players have, in the past, run across the pitcher’s mound.

May 24
Ozzie Guillen claims that offenses should shut down as early as the fourth inning. Then he emphasizes his point.

May 24
The juncture at which an umpire issues a warning can make a significant difference in the way the unwritten rules play out, or not.

May 25
Two more intra-squad squabbles—between Albert Pujols and Tony La Russa, and Francisco Rodriguez and Randy Niemann—add to the rash of such incidents so far this season.

May 26
Adrian Beltre explains that players go to extra lengths when it comes to doing things like helping preserve a no-hitter.

May 27
Bengie Molina has a lack of speed, not a lack of feelings—as he lets ESPN know.

May 28
Ted Lilly is called out for pitching from in front of the pitcher’s rubber. “Talk about adding a yard to your fastball,” wrote Whitey Ford about the practice.

May 28
ESPN’s Eduardo Perez offers a mini-primer on how to talk to umpires.

May 29
Colorado’s Ryan Spilborghs swung at the first pitch after teammates had hit back-to-back home runs . . . and hit a home run. One reader to this blog is out a steak because of it.

0
Don't Swing on the First Pitch After Back-to-Back Home RUns, Ryan Spilborghs

Spilborghs Swings at First Pitch after Back-to-Back Jacks; Costs Reader Beef

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Welcome to the Memorial Day edition of the Reader Mailbag. This is the first one we’ve ever done.

Dear Mr. Turbow:

My name is Michael Baker and I live in Denver, Colorado. I recently read your article about the “Unwritten Rules of Baseball.”

I thoroughly enjoyed your article, especially Unwritten Rule #1- Don’t Swing at the First Pitch After Back-to-Back Home Runs.

After the Rockies hit back-to-back jacks yesterday I stood up and told my three buddies about “Rule #1.” I then guaranteed, and even bet one guy a steak dinner, that the next batter would not swing at the first pitch. Two seconds later, Ryan Spilborghs swung at the first pitch and crushed a ball over the left field fence.

I humbly request that you send me a check for $150 to cover my expenses as I buy my friend a steak dinner and to compensate me for my humiliation, pain and suffering.

Please mail the check to:

Mr. Michael Baker
XXXXX
Greenwood Village, CO

The check does not have to be certified, I know you are good for it. Cash is acceptable as well.

I can provide wire instructions if that is easier for you.

Sincerely Yours,

Michael  Baker

Michael,

I’m sorry to hear about your lost wager. Steak dinners can be precious commodities.

Unfortunately, I’m merely the messenger for the Code, and am unable to enforce its adherence among the major league ranks.

The notion is to give a touch of professional courtesy to a pitcher who is clearly struggling–a single pitch with which to find his focus and right his ship. It’s known as a “courtesy take,” and it was especially prominent with Sparky Anderson and his Big Red Machine teams of the 1970s.

“Let him know, okay, I’m not swinging,” said Hal McRae, who played on those Cincinnati ballclubs. “I know you’re out there trying to do a job.”

These days, fewer players follow this piece of code. The instance in question also contains some gray area: When Spilborghs came to the plate, the Rockies held a five-run lead in the seventh. In Coors Field, that’s hardly considered safe. Spilborghs can be justifiably criticized for lack of decorum, but so too can he mount a defense that the score was close enough to attack the opposition in any way he could.

Colorado visits San Francisco this Monday. I’ll try to track down the perpetrator for comment at some point during the series.

As you dine, please try not to think of opportunities lost, but of friendships gained through the purveyance of beef.

And thanks for reading.

– Jason

4
Umpire Relations

How to Talk to Umpires

Posted on by Jason Turbow

In the wake of two umpire-related events last week—Bob Davidson’s blowout with Joe Maddon, and Joe West ejecting Ozzie Guillen and Mark Buehrle over two disputed balk calls—former big leaguer Eduardo Perez (the son of Hall of Famer Tony Perez, who has managed in Puerto Rico and is an analyst for ESPN) offered up a brief tutorial on umpire relations, a topic with its own chapter in the unwritten rulebook.

Perez’s key points:

  • “Sometimes (as a manager) you know that the umpire made the right call, yet your player doesn’t seem to think so. In situations like that, you almost always still back your guy up because you don’t want to lose his trust.”
  • “Umpires don’t like it when players use their hands as a form of communication. They would rather have you yell at them than flail your arms because everything is on TV and it makes them look disrespected, like you’re showing them up.”
  • “If I disagreed with a strike call, I was taught to look down at the plate and be specific about what I saw: ‘Hey, I had that pitch 6 inches outside.’ Making eye contact and asking the umpire where the pitch was is the wrong move because you’re making more of a scene and questioning his judgment instead of confidently stating your own opinion.”

– Jason

1
Casey Blake, Cheating, Pitcher's Rubber, Ted Lilly

Lilly Moving Up in the World. Literally.

Posted on by Jason Turbow

When Alex Rodriguez ran across the pitcher’s mound at the Oakland Coliseum last month, the majority opinion from the viewing public included the sentiment, “I didn’t realize that was considered problematic.”

This also holds true for the issue brought to light by Casey Blake yesterday, when he accused Cubs pitcher Ted Lilly of cheating by standing in front of the rubber, closer to home plate, when he pitched.

“I know he doesn’t have an overpowering fastball,” Blake said in the Los Angeles Times. “I know he’s trying to get as much of an edge as he can. But he moved in.”

The notion is simple: A 59-foot fastball has more zip upon reaching the plate than a 60-foot fastball. Lilly, however, pointed out after the game that pitchers who did this would be at a disadvantage, because they wouldn’t be able to drive off the rubber with their plant foot.

That’s not the opinion of some of the game’s greatest pitchers.

In his book Throwing Heat, Nolan Ryan addressed the subject:

On occasion I’ve pitched from about six inches in front of the rubber when I’ve needed the big strikeout. And I know I’m not the only one who’s done that.

You just rock up, step in the hole, and you’re half a dozen inches closer to the plate. Normally there’s enough dirt and stuff on the mound late in the game to cover things up, but you have to work the area to dig a hole to get your foot in.

Ryan wasn’t alone. Fellow Hall of Famer Whitey Ford talked about the subject in his own book, Slick.

I found that I could get away with . . . pitching in front of the rubber. I did that a lot and nobody ever caught on. If you covered the rubber up with dirt, it was easy to do. It’s just something nobody’s ever looking for. When I coached first base for the Yankees, I never remember checking to see if the pitcher had his foot in contact with the rubber when he delivered the pitch. Sometimes you could stand with both feet on the rubber, get your sign, and then when you pitched, your first step could be about three feet in front of the rubber. Talk about adding a yard to your fastball.

Heck, forget legendary pitchers. Orioles pitcher Brad Bergesen was cited by umpires for this very thing just yesterday.

Blake informed first-base umpire John Hirschbeck of Lilly’s proclivities, but was essentially brushed off; Hirschbeck told him that he couldn’t see anything out of line from his position behind the bag.

Umpires have a long history of leniency when it comes to matters of cheating, being traditionally reluctant to check baseballs for scuff marks or pitchers for foreign substances. It’s one of the reasons so few pitchers are caught.

When Hirschbeck didn’t move closer for a better view, and declined to ask his fellow umps for help, Blake grew visibly agitated, to the point that he had to be restrained by first-base coach Mariano Duncan.

(Hirschbeck, explaining his actions in the Times, said that sacrificing optimal position for making basic calls was not worth moving up to get a better view of Lilly. “I can’t stand on top of the bag,” he said. He also said that every umpire already has the authority to charge a pitcher with cheating, so there was no need to call them in for assistance.)

Blake, however, wasn’t the only one to notice.

As Rob Neyer pointed out at ESPN.com, the Twitter-sphere lit up with all things Lilly. Ex-pitcher C.J. Nitkowski started it off with this: “Watching some daytime MLB. Camera just zoomed in & didn’t realize it caught a pitcher cheating. Don’t ask me who/what. Tricks of the trade.”

He then followed up with, “Uh-oh Casey Blake is on to it. TV guys completely in the dark. I should start my analyst career.”

That left little doubt about who and what he was talking about. As Neyer described, the WGN crew of Len Kasper and Bob Brenly didn’t touch on the reason for the disruption—which could have been because they didn’t want to shovel dirt on their hometown pitcher.

On the Dodgers broadcast, however, Steve Lyons—himself an ex-player—said, “(Blake is) trying to say whether or not, maybe Ted Lilly isn’t even on the rubber. We’ve talked a lot about the fact that he stays way on one side of the rubber or the other, and Casey’s saying he’s about four inches off the rubber in front of it. Which can give you a significant advantage.”

“What we’d missed the first time around,” wrote Neyer, “and what the Cubs broadcast somehow never managed (or bothered) to show—was Blake turning to Hirschbeck and holding his hands four to six inches apart. And again, if anybody would have known, he would.”

From the standpoint of baseball’s Code, Lilly did nothing wrong. Most forms of cheating, after all, are acceptable—provided you knock it off once you’re caught.

(The pitcher’s post-game excuse—”I might have done it a couple times, just trying to gain my footing,” he said in the Times—doesn’t hold much water. Then again, it doesn’t have to. This is baseball.)

Blake, however, violated an unwritten rule by bringing Lilly’s shenanigans to light. That he addressed it after the game was certainly due to reporters’ questions about the disturbance he caused on the field. But making a show of it in the first place leaves something to be desired in the realm of baseball decorum. A subtle notification of the umpire—loud enough for Cubs first baseman Derrek Lee to overhear—would have gotten the job done, even without action from Hirschbeck.

Still, Lilly can expect that people will now be paying attention. If he has anything going in his favor, it’s that as flagrant as he might have been, he’s not anywhere close to Frederic “Germany” Schmidt, a pitcher in the 1800s who would actually sneak into ballparks at night before he pitched, dig up the rubber and move it closer to the plate.

How would Casey Blake would deal with that?

 

8
Bengie Molina, Media

Molina Coverage Illustrates Line Between News and Opinion

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The unwritten rules are designed to enforce respect on the ballfield, but they carry over into the media, as well. Criticism of players’ ability and effort is expected; they open themselves up to it when they agree to perform in public for vast sums of money.

Crossing into mocking, however, can ruffle some feathers. Jim Rome famously calling Jim Everett “Chris,” or labeling Eric Gagne a “piece of crap” for weeks on end, is one thing; part of a talk-show host’s job description is to incite.

When a sports-news show crosses that line, however, things can get touchy.

Earlier this month, ESPN showed a replay of Giants catcher Bengie Molina trying to score when Marlins pitcher Ricky Nolasco overthrew third base. A full minute of the 1:12 highlight package was devoted to Molina’s effort—including a slow-motion replay with a Chariots of Fire-esque theme playing in the background. Afterward, the anchor offered Molina a “slow clap,” he said, “just for making the effort.” (Watch it here.)

Molina was suitably offended. “When I was growing up, respect was the most important thing to my father,” he wrote on his blog. “That’s what he talked about every day . . . You respect your parents and your teachers and your fellow human beings.  . . . You can say I’m the slowest guy in baseball or in all of sports or in the entire world. I don’t take issue with that because I AM the slowest guy. I have always been the slowest guy. I can’t challenge that criticism. But ESPN’s intention was not to criticize but to humiliate.”

Henry Schulman, who handles the Giants beat for the San Francisco Chronicle, weighed in, writing, “The media don’t have to like certain players. They can criticize players, but to show that kind of disrespect to a player such as Molina, who has been a Major League catcher for more than 12 seasons, who owns a World Series ring, who shepherds what might be the best starting rotation in baseball, is beyond belief.”

The same concept holds true in mainstream news. It’s why Fox News goes to such lengths—believably or not—to claim that the high percentage of opinions on the network are delivered by pundits, not news anchors.

The distinction is an important one. It’s why when ESPN’s Pardon the Interruption mocked Molina’s speed last year after he was nearly run over by a racing sausage in Milwaukee—“Whose agility were you more impressed by,” asked a reader comment read aloud on the air, “Molina’s or the sausuge’s?”—nobody said a word.

“All I can do is play the way I always have—with respect and professionalism,” wrote Molina. “It’s shame that ESPN, a once great network, won’t have any idea what I’m talking about.”

– Jason

2
Adrian Beltre, Daisuke Matsuzaka, No-Hitter Etiquette

Beltre’s Dive Shows the Code at Work

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The things one doesn’t do during a teammate’s no-hitter—like, say, talk about it—have been well discussed.

Saturday, Adrian Beltre exemplified what one one does do, as Daisuke Matsuzaka angled to hold the Phillies without a hit.

After Raul Ibanez led off the eighth inning with a walk, Carlos Ruiz smashed a line drive toward the hole on the left side. Beltre improbably snared it with a dive, then threw to first to double up Ibanez. (Watch it here.)

Although the play preserved the no-hitter for only one more batter—Juan Castro followed with a soft hit that fell just beyond the reach of shortstop Marco Scutaro—its intention was paramount.

“You get a little more aggressive because you’d rather have an E-5 than a hit in that situation,” Beltre told ESPNBoston.com. “You don’t get many chances to play behind a no-hitter, and you want to do whatever you can to prevent any little single.”

It’s small, but it’s noteworthy. Ballplayers altering their actions on the field solely out of respect for a teammate’s accomplishment—it’s the heart of the unwritten rules.

– Jason

6
Intra-Team Fights

Can’t We Just All Get Along?

Posted on by Jason Turbow

It’s rare to see open displays of animosity between managers and players. Not that it doesn’t happen; there are all types in baseball and not everybody gets along. This sort of tiff, however, almost inevitably takes place behind closed doors. It’s one of the manager’s duties, after all, to promote a peaceful clubhouse environment—if not in fact than at least in perception.

Suddenly, however, we’ve been awash in such incidents.

It started last week with the open and ongoing feud between Marlins manager Fredi Gonzalez and shortstop Hanley Ramirez. It continued three days later when Mets skipper Jerry Manuel pulled John Maine from a game after only five pitches, causing his pitcher to openly rebel in the dugout.

To those episodes, we now add two more.

On Saturday, Albert Pujols went at it in the dugout with St. Louis manager Tony La Russa, after Ryan Ludwick was caught stealing for the final out of the eighth inning, leaving Pujols standing at the plate. It was lose-lose for the slugger; had Ludwick been safe, first base would have opened and Pujols would almost inevitably have drawn an intentional walk.

The slugger flipped both bat and helmet as he returned to the bench, then knocked two trays of gum against the wall. He’s clearly frustrated, having homered only once in May, and without an RBI in his last 10 games (a span during which he has only one extra-base hit).

During that time he also spent five games in the cleanup slot, the first time since 2003 that he’s batted anywhere but third in the lineup.

La Russa, according to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, responded by saying, “I (expletive) know how to manage.”

On Monday, the Mets got their second angry exchange in a week, when closer Francisco Rodriguez had to be separated from bullpen coach Randy Niemann over an apparent disagreement about how frequently the reliever should be asked both to warm up and appear in games. (Rodriguez heated up on 10 separate occasions during New York’s 20-inning game against St. Louis in April; on Monday he warmed up twice in two innings before closing out the Yankees. Ten of his 21 appearances this season have come in non-save situations.)

The New York Times reported that “the confrontation occurred in full view of some of the fans sitting in right field,” and had to be broken up by other pitchers.

These showdowns seem to be coming in clusters, but they’re hardly unique. Managers and players clash all the time. Here are some of the more extreme examples:

  • 1929: White Sox rookie Art Shires—an avocational boxer—beats up his manager, Lena Blackburne, not once, but twice.
  • 1969: Minnesota manager Billy Martin pounds star pitcher Dave Boswell in a fight. This is hardly the only time Martin appears on this list.
  • 1977: After losing the Rangers’ starting second-base job during spring training, Lenny Randle confronts manger Frank Lucchesi behind the batting cage in Orlando and shatters Lucchesi’s cheekbone with punches. Shortly thereafter, he’s traded to the Mets.
  • 1977: The relationship between Martin, by this time at the helm of the Yankees, and Reggie Jackson, devolves into a shouting match in the visitor’s dugout at Fenway Park, on national TV. The pair has to be restrained from going after each other.
  • 1980: John Montefusco and Giants manager Dave Bristol go at each other behind closed doors after Montefusco accuses Bristol of having too quick a hook. Montefusco’s eye is blackened.
  • 1981: Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog grabs Gary Templeton in the dugout after seeing the player make an obscene gesture to the Busch Stadium crowd, and the two have to be separated. During the off-season, Templeton is traded to San Diego for Ozzie Smith.
  • 1985: Billy Martin’s arm is broken by Yankees pitcher Ed Whitson in a fight that moves from hotel bar to lobby to parking lot, and eventually resumes on the second floor, outside Whitson’s room.
  • 1992: Reds manager Lou Piniella and Rob Dibble go after each other in the middle of the clubhouse. (Watch it here.)
  • 1999: Bobby Bonilla, upset that Mets manager Bobby Valentine doesn’t order retaliation after teammate Robin Ventura is hit by Roger Clemens, confronts Valentine in the dugout. After being sent to the clubhouse, Bonilla rips down the lineup board and hurls it at Valentine’s office.
  • 2002: Barry Bonds and Jeff Kent scuffle in the Giants dugout. The team goes on to win the National League pennant.
  • 2006: Blue Jays manager John Gibbons and pitcher Ted Lilly have at each other in the clubhouse tunnel, just out of sight of TV cameras.

In the two most recent cases of manager-player discord, all parties hewed the unwritten rule that mandates a minimum of public discord, usually via denials that a problem even exists.

“I was hitting and we got thrown out stealing. I wanted to hit. That’s all it was,” said Pujols.

La Russa took it a step farther, saying, “There wasn’t anything special about (the incident). I didn’t pull him aside. I didn’t talk to him afterwards because he doesn’t do it excessively and I know he’s sincere. There are only two times I confront it. Does it happen excessively? Then I say, ‘That’s enough.’ And if I think it’s insincere.”

And the Mets’ Rodriguez? “We were just fooling around,” he said in the Times. “We were just kidding with each other.”

Of course they were.

– Jason

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