Baseball fights are still stupid, awful, and extremely watchable

We do this every week, you know. It gets dumber and dumber as the season progresses, and there’s no turning back now. Welcome to a look back at the silly baseball that was, the third week of August, 2018.

It’s at this point that I must remind you that if you do not share this stupid content with people who appreciate it, I’m going to give up and write “How to Watch the Little League World Series: Time, Channel, Date” posts because those are absolutely crushing these posts, and I just want to be on the right side of history.

Anyway, forgive me. It’s that time of the week again, and we need to study some baseball things in a section I call ...

Alternate headline: These unwritten rules are going to be the death of us.

On Monday, August 13, Yasiel Puig hit a pop fly against Madison Bumgarner and slammed his bat to the ground.

In response, Bumgarner walked toward third base, chuckling. He was a living version of the I’m-not-mad-actually-I’m-laughing meme, and the next two matchups between the two were uneventful. I was proud of Bumgarner for being a grown-up. Don’t take offense. Don’t stare him down. Just laugh at the guy.

Please note that the Dodgers’ organist played the theme from Friends between pitches, and that is probably the most important piece of information in this whole column.

Cut to the next game, when Puig did this:

Puig slapped his bat again, and Nick Hundley said something between, “Dude, you’re embarrassing yourself,” and “I will murder your neighbors and plant the evidence in your house if you do that again.” This led to a fracas.

Here’s what I would tell one of the 9-year-olds I coach if she did that after striking out.

You probably shouldn’t do that. It makes you look silly.

Sure, it was just Puig showing his emotions, but try to apply it to real life. Pretend you’re defending a guy at the gym who misses a shot and says, “Ugh, and I totally burned my defender, too!”

You would roll your eyes. If he did it twice, you might even say something like, “Maybe you should just make the shot then.”

Back to the bat slap. Here’s what I would tell one of the 9-year-olds on the opposing team if she did that:

[complete and total silence because, buddy, it’s not my job to coach her, and, really, what do I care?]

Now, what’s the difference between 9-year-olds and Yasiel Puig? Puig has had an additional 18 years to learn that this sort of thing makes him look silly, but he just can’t help himself. Fine. Whatever. Roll your eyes.

What’s the difference between 9-year-olds and Nick Hundley? Hundley has had an additional 25 years to learn that, buddy, it’s not your job to coach him, and, really, what do you care? Nobody in the everloving hell should care if Puig thinks he just missed a pitch and wants to tell the world. Tell your pitcher to make better pitches. Get him out.

So I award six dingus points to both players. Then I award Puig a millionty dingus points for trying to slap a dude in a catcher’s mask. If you watch the video above, watch his hand after the slap (about 2:20). It didn’t feel good.

However, here’s the kicker: Dereck Rodriguez — one of the best parts of the Giants’ mediocre season and an ultra-dark horse candidate for Rookie of the Year — was hurt during the melee. He pulled a hamstring and had to go on the DL. After the game, there were people talking about how the Giants needed this fight to “light a fire under them,” and how it was actually a good thing. Instead, they lost one of their best pitchers, and they were immediately swept in Cincinnati, a series that effectively ended their season.

Don’t forget that this fight last year effectively ended Michael Morse’s career. And, as always, we’re just one fight closer to a Rudy Tomjanovich situation.

So what have we learned? Baseball fights are stupid. So incredibly stupid. There is no reason for almost every baseball fight. Jose Ureña probably should have a baseball thrown at his butt, sure, but even then, I’d be too scared that the pitcher delivering the unwritten justice would miss and cause a serious injury. Not worth it. Just shame him for the rest of eternity.

There is no good reason to have a baseball fight that escalates behind chirping. Players get hurt. Careers get ruined. Who cares that some dude got mad in front of you? Who cares that some dude is telling you not to get mad in front of him?

Baseball fights are just the dumbest shit.

This one was especially dumb.

HUNDLEY: MOM, HE SLAPPED HIS BAT AGAIN.

PUIG: SO WHAT? I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THAT PITCH AND YOU KNOW.

HUNDLEY: HE’S STILL SAYING IT, MOM.

PUIG: STOP BEING A TATTLETALE, NICK.

Last week we covered the dumbest rule in sports, but I didn’t think we’d have to cover the dumbest shit imaginable the very next week. Grow up and stop getting your teammates hurt, you idiots.

Let’s just ...

Oh, come on.

At some point, I’m going to have to sue. There’s just no getting around this. All of these teams are using my Minor League Team Name Generator, and these are proprietary names. Four of the five proposed names are actually possible with the generator.

While the generator only deals with city names and is unequipped to deal with a team name that starts with “North Alabama,” it does have Huntsville and Madison. So I was able to get the Madison Trash Chimps and Huntsville Beef Ants, which is close enough.

People ask me how long it takes to write this weekly column, and I tell them the same thing every time. “About nine hours if I start screwing around with the Minor League Team Name Generator in the middle.” These damned things are like kettle corn, and you can’t stop at just one.

Fullerton Farm Turtles

Durham Crater Pugs

Dayton Moat Ants

Please send help

Louisville Tinder Cougars

oh my stars that sounds dirty

Columbus Sun Possums

Fayetteville Bayou Turkeys

Please, please, help me

North Alabama Trash Pandas

Some of these are just completely unrealistic and not even funny, like that last one. Why can’t I stop?

There’s nothing to study here. It was just instinct on the part of the umpire. A bat was gently falling to the earth, and Manny Gonzalez thought, ah, I will remove this from my field of vision while I make sure the home run went fair.

However ...

Last week, I posited that the dropped-third-strike rule was the dumbest rule in sports. People yelled at me online and in real life, but I will stand by my assessment. Still, I would like to offer a truce and a counter-suggestion. It goes something like this:

If a catcher can catch a hitter’s bat before it hits the ground, it’s an automatic out.

Think about it. It wouldn’t eliminate the bat flip entirely; it would require powerful bat flips that made sure the bat was out of the catcher’s reach. It would lead to catchers contorting their bodies in unholy positions after contact, as they desperately try to overturn their pitcher’s mistake. There would be the dawning realization from the hitter that they didn’t get the bat far away enough to prevent the catcher from making a play.

Home run, elation, momentary lapse, abject horror.

And, really, how many bats could a catcher get to in a year? A couple? After the rule was implemented, maybe one?

Worth it. And better than the dropped-third-strike rule. Vote for me in the commissioner primaries, which are probably a real thing that I should look into. Hitters should be out if a catcher can keep their bat from hitting the ground.

You know I’m right.

Nothing big, just Miguel Sano flying over a railing to dropkick the man who kidnapped his wife. While, uh, Al Davis watches? Look, I don’t have the full screenplay in my hands, so we have to guess at a lot of what’s happening here, but this sure looks like Sano is delivering a death kick because of vengeance.

Alas, the actual play wasn’t that cool. It was a fine play, but the still picture obscures that there was a person-sized gap between the railing and fan, and it also allows the observer to assume that Sano was traveling at 70 mph before jumping, which he most certainly wasn’t.

Still, it’s the picture of the week because it allows to believe and imagine all sorts of beautiful, wondrous things. I can respect that.

n/t

See, the director was trying to represent the duality of Hoffman, from the idealized representation (the “statue”) to a vision of a condescending, jeering version of himself in the peanut gallery. The sun represents heaven — i.e. the “ultimate save” — and the whole composition really gives you an idea of just how many different directions Hoffman is being pulled.

Changed Up will premiere at Cannes in 2019.

McGwire
19 AB this week
379 AB for the season

1 HR this week
47 HR for the season

.316/.533/.526 this week
.288/.471/.699 for the season

Sosa
25 AB this week
478 AB for the season

3 HR this week
47 for the season

.400/.500/.800 this week
.314/.384/.646 for the season

Tied. It’s the middle of August, and both players are tied and on pace to break Roger Maris’ home run record. I really, truly can’t express enough just how bananas the country was going at this point.

A reminder that Sosa had eight home runs toward the end of May. He looked like he could be an All-Star, no more. In the next 74 games, he would hit 39 homers. That’s an 86-homer pace over nearly a third of a season.

Also, in 1998, the internet was a place where you argued on newsgroups about if the U.S.S Enterprise could take down a Star Destroyer. It was a beautiful time. Musicians didn’t have to choose between rap or heavy metal. The video games didn’t have so many danged buttons.

We have to go back, Kate.

We have to go back.

I found this screenshot in my files five days ago, and the only time I’ve been able to stop saying “Bunk Congalton” is when I was saying “Cunk Bongalton.” So, here, you do something with this.

Also, everyone knows that the Enterprise engaged that Star Destroyer when they were orbiting Cuelph in the Ganada System.

Man, this shit gets dumber and dumber every week.

Uh, remember to share?