I’ve written on a number of occasions that no one really knows anyone; at least not that well. The idea is that there is often more than meets the eye when it comes to people who we know primarily via their athletic exploits. They have entire lives away from the field, and we only see the little parts of that they want us to see. Or, in the case of those not blessed with good P.R. skills and good judgment, those parts of it they don’t want us to see. In no event, however, can we as fans know an athlete too well.
But then I read stuff like this story from John Tomase in today’s Boston Herald and I think: “Really? Jonathan Papelbon is a complex character? There’s more to him than meets the eye?”
He makes the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World look like a monk. He strikes equal fear in opponents and teammates. He combines the terror of Jaws with the mystery of Nessie. He is Cinco Ocho. And he is the Sphinx, the pyramids, a column on Easter Island — an enigma that is oft seen, but little understood.
OK. I don’t know Jonathan Papelbon. Never met the guy. I can’t say at all that there’s not more depth to this guy than the fist-pumping, jig-dancing dude we see closing Red Sox games. I’ll take Tomase’s word for it.
But I am skeptical. It’s OK to be skeptical, right?
Today Jonah Keri gives us a fantastic story about a crazy game.
The Dodgers played the Expos in Montreal 28 years ago today. The game went 22 innings. It was a 1-0 game. More notable than the 21 and a half innings of scoreless ball, however, was the fact that Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda got the Expos mascot — Youppi — ejected. The Dodgers and Expos didn’t score much that year overall, but when have you ever seen a mascot ejected?
Some good lunchtime reading for y’all, complete with silly GIFs and a video of the whole dang game if you hate yourself so much that you’d watch it all in its entirety.
Last night the Yankees pasted the Tigers in Detroit, but the hometown crowd did get something entertaining to send them on their way: an inside-the-park homer from Nicholas Castellanos.
At least that’s technically what it was. It would be a single and a three-base error if our official scoring made any sense.
Watch the play below. It’s all put in motion by Jacoby Ellsbury‘s decision to try to make a slide catch on the ball, misjudging it and allowing it to skip over 100 feet to the wall:
Since Ellsbury didn’t touch it it wasn’t called an error — errors are rarely if ever called on poor plays that don’t result in a fielder actually touching the ball — but it was certainly a mental error to not let the ball bounce and ensure that it didn’t get past him. Especially with such a big lead.
Oh well, that’s baseball for you.