![]() |
| in fact, Haligonian gymnastics is strong (Four-Time Olympian, Four-Time Commonwealth Champion, Five-Time Pan-Am Champion, Two-Time World Silver Medalist Ellie Black with the first pitch) |
Against the Boston Red Sox, coming off of their recent twenty-seven-and-and-three run (part of a larger thirty-two-and-five, all of which began with the Red Sox looking like the worst team in the league, and now seeming unstoppable), the Blue Jays sent to the hill Jameson Taillon, once a first-round draft pick, now a thirty-four-year-old innings eater who (love him though we do for reasons of WBC-related civic nationalism [arguably the least pernicious of all nationalisms]) was demonstrably released by the Pirates earlier this year. And yet it went really well! Until, after four scoreless innings (three walks, but just one hit), Taillon left the game with "right forearm discomfort," which is the kind of symptom that, experiencing it yourself, might give you pause for like a day and then you're good, but, which, for a pitcher, means you may never see them again even once (professionally). In came Simeon Woods-Richardson, released by the Twins this year, and he did really well, too! Maybe we're on to something here! The Blue Jays' runs came on a solo homer from the recently recalled (in the sense of "from Buffalo" rather than "emerged from the mists of memory") Charles McAdoo (whose first at bat against Sonny Gray was characterized by Joe Siddell spending a good deal of time meticulously explaining that the way McAdoo's front side flies open means he's not going to be able to get to the outside pitch at this level, and whose second at bat against Sonny Gray was characterized by a McAdoo extremely getting to that outside pitch for a verifiable dinger) in the fifth, and, an inning later, another Andrés Giménez single to bring home the dashing George Springer (who had previously stolen second! like by running to it!).
The lone Red Sox run was really the treat on the night, so far as being a sicko about obscure baseball rules goes, in that it unfolded thus: with runners on first (Anthony Siegler) and second (Connor Wong) in the top of the seventh, nobody out, Nick Sogard ripped a low liner to Vladdy's right. Vladdy, diving, snagged it on a short hop while Siegler understandably stood frozen off the bag at first, not knowing if Vladdy had caught it cleanly while it was still in the air (in which case, dive back to first) or on the hop (in which case, hustle on to second to try to beat the throw there). As it was, as it turned out, a low short-hopper of a liner, Vladdy fired the ball to second to get that out (retiring Siegler) as Wong scurries on to third, and Sogard (the batter-runner, as they say) made it to first before the throw from second could be returned Vladwards. So far so good, right? Except! The MLB employee (it is not a team employee, so as to avoid, I suppose, potential shenanigans) who runs the in-stadium scoreboard misinterpreted what had happened, and posted two outs on the scoreboards, rather than one. Even though this is something the players and coaches themselves should be keeping track of, I am sure we can all accept that there have been moments in all our lives in which each of us has lacked the full vigilance our posts and obligations have required of us, and one such moment befell both Sogard and Wong here, but strangely to their benefit: thinking there were two outs as Cedanne Rafaela hit a lazy fly ball out to Myles Straw in centre field, rather than just the one, those two Sox (both Red) began to lazily circle the bases, rather than holding at their appointed bases (first and third, respectively) to "tag up" and potentially advance after the catch was made (Wong would almost certainly have been able to tag and score from first; Sogard would have just stayed put on this medium fly ball). A boon for the Blue Jays, one might think, as Straw tosses the ball back in to Vladdy, who touches first, retiring Sogard for the inning-ending double play, and then everybody just jogs of the field to get ready for the bottom of the seventh.
But not so fast! Had Straw thrown to third, Wong would have been the final out of the inning, and everything would have been quite straightforward. But because the final out was Sogard at first (or rather, Sogard not being at first, as he jogged about unduly), a crucial question emerges: did Wong maybe cross home plate before the Blue Jays recorded the third out of the inning at first? Ah, jeez, it looks like he did, the umpires (the likeable Chris Guccione their leader) were forced to conclude after a brief huddle, which meant they were going to have a lot—and I mean a lot!—of explaining to do. In that moment, I really felt for those guys, because things had just gone from a normal day of work with its quotidian challenges to something that was going to be A Whole Thing. Perhaps you, the knowledgeable and enthusiastic baseball fan who, despite that knowledge and enthusiasm, has never encountered this specific, incredibly rare play before, are thinking, "it seems strange that a runner leaving third base early and incorrectly on a fly-ball out should be rewarded with a run; there must be some way for this situation to be corrected," to which I would respond, on account of how I quite haphazardly watched a YouTube video about this exact situation earlier this year (the comments on that video, as I recall, were split pretty evenly between "I have never heard of this even slightly" and "they covered this at the umpiring course I took and I couldn't believe it"), welcome to the realm of The Fourth Out, my friends (it both is, and is not, a kōan 公案, kind of, through which one might achieve kenshō, and observe, however fleetingly, one's own buddha-nature, all whilst retiring the side). The way the Blue Jays could have prevented Wong's run from counting would have been to have thrown the ball to third base—even after the third out of the inning had been recorded at first!—to appeal the play there, to say, in effect, "I know there are already three outs, but I really think Wong left before the ball was caught by Straw in centre field," at which point the umpire would have agreed, and signaled that Wong, like Sogard before him, was out, too—nullifying the run, and making Wong (here it comes again!) The Fourth Out. This principle is explained with admirably succinctness and precision in this charmingly synthwaved umpiring short.
Understandably, the broadcasters were baffled. Joe Siddell, to his credit, eventually tracked down the rule on his own during the long delay in which this was all being checked and double-checked by the umpires (and explained to the admirably composed managers on both sides). Again, the only reason I was able to figure out the situation was because of a YouTube video (not actually the one linked above [weird that there would be more than one!]) I haphazarded upon fairly recently, like maybe just a month or so ago; otherwise, I would have been at least as confused as everyone else, and probably totally (and unpleasantly!) confident in my misapprehension of what the rules actually dictate in this strange circumstance. Apparently the only non-umpire on the field who understood perfectly the shape of the discussion that was underway was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Max Scherzer, who had been involved in a situation calling for The Fourth Out in his time in Arizona (all the way back in 2009! [read about it, briefly, here]). Not only did Scherzer, who was explaining things not just to John Schneider but to Hazel Mae as well, know the rule, but he knew it well enough to argue that the umpires had actually kicked this one by waving the Blue Jays off the field when the third out was recorded, having not first given them sufficient opportunity to appeal the play at third base and attain The Fourth Out to prevent the run from counting (this, to me, is the highest state of baseball arguing I have ever encountered; how fitting that it would come from Max Scherzer). The end result was that the Boston run counted, and, at least as surprisingly, nobody got ejected from the game for arguing about it. John Schneider seemed pretty cheerful and bemused about it all after the game. Great job, everybody!
No doubt what allowed Schneider to be light-hearted about it all, in the end, is that Tyler Rogers and Louis Varland followed Woods-Richardson's three fine innings with scoreless innings of their own, and so this weird run (maybe the weirdest?) did not change the course of the game unduly. What a strange night! You never know what you're going to see when you put on the ballgame. Probably not that, though, even once again ever.
KS
















