The Mind Tends To Wander In The Silenced Hours

I'm not going to pretend this thought is my own, but after hearing about it it has been a topic of many late-night internal discussions. (Aside from the normal "what I'm I going to wear tomorrow" and "where is my chapstick." Wait I'm not female.)



In Major League, the original and only one that needs to be acknowledged, the Indians were tied heading into the bottom of the 9th thanks to the incredible eye-ware of Rick Vaughn and the magic 700-foot homerun hitting bat of Pedro Serrano.

In that inning Willie Mays Hays reaches first and proceeds to steal second, thus starting a series of events that need to be thoroughly dissected for their authenticity.

Jake Taylor swings through the first pitch, the one in which Hays steals second. Then, steps out of the box, looks up at his manager, AND GIVES A FREAKING SIGN. I only bring this up because of the ridiculous notion that a player would do such a thing, inspiring a country of stupid baseball actions in little leaguers mocking baseball movies, and because the manager actually does it! But, my friends (channeling McCain) this is where the party starts.

(As an aside the stupid baseball movie things that inspired real-life baseball things started with Bull Durham. The two scenes in the movie where Crash Davis throws a temper-fit like no 4-year-old could because Nuke LaLouche shakes him off, should go down as the single worst influential part in a movie ever. It gave all non-talented and stupid catchers across America the bravery to throw the same fit. Jerks. Listen, I was a pitcher in college so this bothers me beyond belief. Hey, you're a catcher, shut-up. I'll throw what I want to throw. You're not smart. You're not special. You catch the ball thrown to you. Like I'm supposed to listen to the guy who's widely regarded, and it's perfectly okay with everyone in baseball, as the worst hitter on the team? What is it exactly that you know about getting people out beyond the fact that you yourself can not hit? Those two 3-minute scenes gave birth to the notion there was a difference in catchers and their ability to call games. Amazingly, those guys that are regarded in MLB as the best game callers, tend to always have the most talented pitching staffs. HUM... Stupid catchers.)

The next pitch in the sequence, the pitch right after the sign was given, and the pitch in the sequence when 100% of the time the play is run, Taylor is knocked down. No action on the bases, he doesn't square around to bunt.

Taylor gets up, "refusing to dust himself off," and steps back into the box.

(Yes, I'm leaving out him "calling his shot" because, let's be honest, that's lame. No need to reference it. Although I just did. Damnit.)

The pitcher comes set. Kicks and...what's this...Hays BREAKS FOR THIRD. Whaaaaaaaaaat?

Not only does this leave a number of questions unanswered for the stupidity of it like - why are you stealing third tied with two outs in the bottom of the 9th of a tie game - but the biggy?

WHY THE HELL DIDN'T HE TAKE OFF WITH THE FIRST PITCH?

Was Taylor's sign specifically designed for the action to take place two pitches after? Did Hays not see the sign because he was too busy loosing his career to Omar Epps? Did Wesley Snipes forget to read the script?

This is incredibly bothersome to any real baseball fan knowing full well Charlie Sheen does not throw 101 mph.

But honestly, a sign was given, the bunt and run should have taken place on the pitch that knocked Taylor down at the plate. The ball would have then been thrown to third, Hays is out, extra innings folks.

Oh Hollywood.

'Til next time.