Taking Out the Catcher and Baseball’s Unwritten Rules
Please forgive me. The first true blog post on this new site is about, of all things, baseball. It’s not even my favorite sport, and I’m a former sports writer who has moved onto “bigger beats” like politics, environment and travel guidebook updating. (Check out my résumé on the top rail up there.)
But something drew my attention today so I thought I’d get my thoughts down on the page. Please don’t let the subject matter dissuade you from ever coming back.
Nyjer Morgan, provocatively-named outfielder for the moribund Washington Nationals, was in the middle of a pretty sweet brawl on Tuesday. Earlier in the game, he’d been hit by a pitch. And when Marlins pitcher Chris Volstad threw another pitch behind Morgan’s back, the diminutive former hockey player tossed his bat aside, charged the mound, threw a roundhouse punch that grazed the offending pitcher’s face, and then was then taken down with a WWF-style (that’s World Wrestling Federation, not the World Wildlife Fund or whatever. I was born in 1983, haven’t watched wrestling in years, and don’t care that it’s now technically the WWE.) clothesline from first baseman Gaby Sanchez, who had come out of rhetorical left field.
Here’s the video:
Whoops, no youtube. Thanks for ruthlessly enforcing your copyright, MLB. And no, I can’t embed the video either. Ugh. This is 2010 and all I can do is post a link. Lame.
Anyway, what led up to this? Morgan’s penchant for needlessly running over catchers and general disrespect for the game of baseball.
On Aug. 28, with the Nats up 9-5 and the sacs packed in the bottom of the 8th inning, a double down the right field line sent Morgan merrily on his way from 1st base. But rather than tag home plate, as is usually the case in this sport, Morgan appeared to go out of his way to make contact with Cardinals catcher Bryan Anderson, who was standing a step or two in front of the dish, toward the pitcher’s mound. Watch the video.
Manager John Riggleman (Morgan’s boss) called the play “unprofessional” and suggested it was because Morgan was venting frustration at being demoted from 1st to 8th in the batting order. “I think he thought I was wearing that [catcher's] equipment there at home plate,” Riggleman said, according to Nationals Daily News.
“You’ve never seen that before [from Morgan],” Riggleman said, presumably referring to the play and not to being the target of fantasized workplace violence. “You’ll never see it again.”
Well, not for at least a few days.
On Aug. 31, Morgan attempted to score from second base on a slow chopper — a ridiculous, silly idea not unlike Willie Mays Hayes’ dramatic game-winner in the original Major League. With Marlins catcher Brett Hayes blocking the plate, Morgan put his head down and delivered a solid shot, dislodging Hayes’ shoulder from its socket but not the ball from his hand. Out at home. Inning over. Check the video.
At first blush, I liked this play by Morgan. I think there should be more collisions at home plate.
My favorite story about Willie Mays, the G.O.A.T., is one I can’t verify to be true but will retell just the same. When scoring from second base on a single, Mays would routinely slow down as he rounded third base to draw the throw home, then speed up and knock over the catcher at the precise moment when it would send the ball careening away, allowing his teammates to advance. That’s just plain smart.
My favorite story about Pete Rose — baseball’s all-time hit king — is a home-plate collision with catcher Ray Fosse in the 1970 All-Star Game that gave the National League a 5-4 win in extra innings. That play — in an exhibition game, no less — screwed up Fosse’s shoulder permanently and changed the trajectory of his entire career. Watch Rose explain the play by saying players’ obligation to the ticket-buying fans is to “bust your ass and play as hard as you possibly can.” That’s pretty damn cool, even if he did bet on baseball.
And the most objectively dramatic MLB moment of the last decade was, in my opinion, was then-Marlin Pudge Rodriguez holding onto the ball like it was a flaming human heart in Temple of Doom after he tagged out the Giants’ J.T. Snow to clinch the Division Series in 2003. I didn’t even need to look up that information to get it right, and I usually don’t remember anything, especially from my college years.
They key thread weaving between those classic plays is that the crash at the plate was part of a greater desire to score a run and win a game. Yes, it was violence, but it was violence with a higher purpose.
The reason Morgan’s two plays at the plate are so insulting is not because I’m some baseball pacifist who wants the runner and the catcher to resolve their differences with words but because I want the runner’s primary mission to be scoring the run, not inflicting pain on the opposing team (unless it’s the Yankees). I like my national pasttime without a side helping of schadenfreude. (Again, unless it’s the Yankees.)
Not only were Morgan’s decisions to initiate contact with the catcher totally unnecessary, they actually cost his team the run in both cases. Against the Cardinals, he could have easily touched home but went out of his way to hit the catcher despite the fact that there had been no throw home. Morgan missed the plate and was called out when a teammate (Pudge, ironically) grabbed him and directed him back toward the base.
Against the Marlins, in the 10th inning of a 0-0 game, Morgan would almost assuredly have been safe had he slid, but instead took advantage of the high throw by plowing into the ribs of the exposed catcher. He dislocated his opponent’s shoulder and cost himself the run and his team the game — they went on to lose, 1-0.
That’s not just schadenfreude, that’s cutting off your nose to spite your face. It’s stupid, it’s juvenile, it’s unprofessional (h/t Riggleman) and it has no place in baseball.
So let’s get back to the Marlins’ reaction to the dirty play, where this rant began.
I’m not an expert on the unwritten rules of baseball. (Can someone write them down already? Can we get a compilation?) I had never heard of the “No-crossing-my-mound-when-I’m-pitching” rule until Dallas Braden and his grandmother took issue with A-Rod. Maybe it was fabricated just to cover for enforcing, long after the statute of limitations had expired, the “no-carrying-purses-while-you-run-to-first-base” rule that A-Rod had broken against the Red Sox in the playoffs a few years back.
Regardless, I think the unwritten rules hinge on respect — for your opponent and for the game itself.
The Marlins, for good reason, took exception to Morgan’s decision to go out of his way to hurt their catcher, so they threw at him. Hitting someone with a fastball is the standard punishment for violations of baseball’s unwritten code.
Now, Morgan could have accepted his penalty and went on his way. But he decided to steal 2nd and 3rd base while his team trailed by 11 runs. That’s a violation of another unwritten rule, for you uninitiated readers out there, although that one is designed to protect players from their own stupidity and maximize the chance of victory.
Not stealing bases in a game you’re down by many more than the amount of runs you could hope to gain by stealing those bases falls into the same category as rules that say you shouldn’t make the first or last out of an inning at third base, shouldn’t overthrow the cutoff man and shouldn’t swing at a 3-0 pitch unless you’re really sure. The risk outweighs the reward. It’s just bad business.
It’s not the same as stealing bases when you’re up a bunch of runs, taking a leisurely home run trot, throwing shards of a shattered bat at your opponent when steroids make you a little spastic (enjoy prison, Clemens!) or making noises when the other team is trying to catch a pop-up (I’m looking at you again, A-Rod.) Those are about a lack of respect.
So should the Marlins care that Morgan does something stupid that hurts his team’s chances of victory? I’ve seen it written elsewhere that they should just be happy he’s acting like an idiot, but that’s looking at the situation in a vacuum. They had just inflicted fair punishment for his crime against their teammate, and his decision to steal not one but two bases was akin to potential parolee showing no remorse. It’s just asking for trouble.
Morgan didn’t steal those bases to help his team win the game. He stole those bases to show the Marlins he was a tough guy, that he wouldn’t back down. He was flouting the rules (again), making himself the center of attention (again), and essentially telling the game of baseball to go screw itself (again).
So the Marlins threw at him (again). And then beat him up. Bravo.
