Rodriguez Keeps Straddling Baseball’s Foul Line
By JOHN BRANCH
Published: June 1, 2007
It was clever or childish, cunning gamesmanship or borderline cheating, or
maybe something in between. But when Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees shouted
something to a Toronto Blue Jays infielder Wednesday night, helping cause a
pop-up to drop and leading to three runs, the debate began.
The only certainty is that the play further blurred the line between what is
fair or foul in the unwritten code of baseball — and solidified Rodriguez’s
reputation as a player willing to test boundaries. Players, coaches and
baseball observers interviewed yesterday routinely struggled to articulate
what was permissible and what was not, and why.
“If I could explain it clearly, there would be no fine line,” said the Fox
baseball broadcaster Tim McCarver, a former major league catcher. “You just
have to be there. That’s how fine the line is.”
Deception in baseball has long been alternately applauded and cursed. Games
are filled with attempts to trick the opponent, like children in the outfield
imploring the batter-batter-batter to swing and fielders applying a tag
without a ball or trying to steal signs.
Baseball lore is filled with memorable examples of bamboozlement, from a
minor league catcher carving a potato to look like a baseball to infielders
serving as decoys to help win the World Series.
On Wednesday, with the Yankees leading, 7-5, in the top of the ninth inning,
Jorge Posada hit a two-out high pop that third baseman Howie Clark settled
under. But as Rodriguez casually ran behind him toward third, he shouted
something — “Ha!” according to Rodriguez; “Mine!” according to Clark.
Clark scooted away. The ball dropped.
It was ruled a hit for Posada, not an error on Clark. Hideki Matsui scored
and Rodriguez was safe at third. Jason Giambi singled to drive in Rodriguez
and Posada, and the Yankees went on to win, 10-5.
The play infuriated the Blue Jays. As Clark watched sheepishly, shortstop
John McDonald had to be restrained from going after Rodriguez. Toronto
Manager John Gibbons argued with the umpires. He later called the play “bush
league.”
Their complaints had little to do with the rules and everything to do with an
unwritten code of sportsmanship. According to Rule 7.08(b), a base runner is
out if he “hinders a fielder attempting to make a play on a batted ball.”
But the rule equates interference with contact. That leaves a void, open to
interpretation. Can players shout anything? What if Rodriguez had moved
closer, or shouted it louder?
“That’s what makes baseball so great,” McDonald said yesterday before the
Blue Jays played the Chicago White Sox. “There’s the rule book, and there
are other things that are passed down from older players when I was first
starting my career. So it's something I may take offense to, but other people
may not.”
Apparently, the code permits some words or noises but not others. It may also
depend on where the play occurs. It is telling that there is some discrepancy
over what Rodriguez said. He denied saying “mine,” though Clark repeated
that accusation yesterday.
“Maybe that’s a little bit out of line,” Rodriguez said.
Others agreed.
“It’s not like he said, ‘I got it,’ ” Yankees Manager Joe Torre said
after the game, suggesting that such a claim would be inappropriate. “He
just made a noise.”
Players and coaches differed widely on how common the practice was. San
Francisco Giants shortstop Omar Vizquel, in his 19th season, said that he had
never had an opponent try to distract him from catching a pop-up, and was not
sure it was legal. But White Sox Manager Ozzie Guillen, a former shortstop,
said that it happened all the time. “It’s the first time it worked at the
big-league level,” he said.
“Why not do it?” he said. “We all do everything to win games.”
Torre, Rodriguez and others said that such attempts to break the
concentration of fielders, if not fool them completely, were common, at least
in foul territory.
“When a catcher comes over to the opposing dugout, everybody yells, ‘I got
it. I got it,’ ” Torre said.
There is little doubt that the play has been scrutinized because it involved
Rodriguez, always a magnet for controversy who has been accused of schoolyard
antics before.
“I think it’s more because it’s A-Rod than anything else,” said Fernando
Vina, who spent 12 years mostly as a second baseman and is now a baseball
analyst for ESPN. He said he did not think that Wednesday’s play was a dirty
one.
Last week, as Rodriguez slid into second base to try to break up a double
play, he gave a forearm to Boston second baseman Dustin Pedroia, who called
the action “a little cheap.”
In Game 6 of the 2004 American League Championship Series against the Red
Sox, Rodriguez swatted the ball loose from the glove of pitcher Bronson
Arroyo, who was trying to apply a tag. Rodriguez was called out for
interference and was lambasted by the Red Sox for his tactics.
But shouting at fielders as he runs?
"From what I’m hearing from other guys, he does it all the time,” said Ryan
Klesko of the Giants, in his 16th season. In the minor leagues, he said, he
once ran past a third baseman preparing to throw out a runner, and the throw
was wild. Klesko was struck in the back by a pitch his next time at the
plate, he said. He, too, called shouting at fielders bush league.
“It’s a respect thing,” he said.
It is not clear how such codes are kept straight in the minds of baseball
players. It is O.K. to steal signs by the catcher from second base, but not
to look back at the catcher while hitting, for example. It is fine to bowl
over the catcher when trying to score at home plate, but not if the catcher
has left room to one side to try to slide safely. A middle infielder who
pretends to catch a ball from the catcher on a steal attempt when the ball
actually flew into the outfield is simply playing smart.
In the eighth inning of a scoreless Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, Lonnie
Smith of the Atlanta Braves was on first base, and he ran toward second as
the pitch was thrown. He saw Minnesota Twins second baseman Chuck Knoblauch
crouch to field the batted ball and fake a throw. He did not immediately see
that Terry Pendleton had hit the ball toward the wall between two
outfielders. Smith should have scored on the hit, but he stopped at second
momentarily before scurrying to third.
Smith was stranded there, and the Twins won, 1-0, in 10 innings. Smith was
widely criticized, and Knoblauch’s play was complimented. McCarver worked
the game as a broadcaster, and he still considers it a great play by
Knoblauch.
Why? “Because that’s a decoy,” he said, explaining that it was Smith’s
fault for losing track of the ball’s flight and having to rely on the
fielders for an indication of where it went.
Jerry Manuel, a coach for the Mets, differentiated between a decoy and other
attempts at deception, although the difference is difficult to delineate. “
Decoy is part of the game,” he said. “When you scream or yell, that is not
a decoy.”
A true decoy was used by a minor league catcher named Dave Bresnahan. In
1987, with the Williamsport (Pa.) Bills, he carved a potato to look like a
baseball. With a runner on third base, Bresnahan threw the potato into the
outfield in an apparent pickoff attempt. The runner raced home, and Bresnahan
tagged him out with the real ball.
After some confusion, the runner was declared safe, and Bresnahan — whose
number was later retired by the minor league team — was cut the next day by
the Cleveland Indians organization.
Rodriguez will not face the same fate. But he again finds himself where he
spends most of his time — in the heart of the controversy, at the center of
the debate, alternately applauded and cursed.
Reporting for this article was contributed by Michael S. Schmidt, David
Picker and Tyler Kepner in New York and Matt Higgins in Toronto.
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