Eric the Blue

I tuned in Game 7 of the World Series in order to test the hypothesis that “baseball is boring” and whoa!

Just kidding, of course. Not about watching the game. I’m one of those who can’t answer the question about how I became a baseball fan, because as far as I know it predated my interest in solid food. But I can’t remember watching a game like that one. The last two of the ’91 Series, arguably, but I had a dog in that fight.

I think my favorite play was the drive to the fence in left field with the winning run on third base and two outs. Was that in the ninth or the tenth inning? The Dodger left fielder was staggering backwards, and may not have caught it. He’d been playing shallow: usually you’re okay with a ball landing in front of you if it means you can catch the deep ones, but in this situation his team loses if a batted ball bounces anywhere in the outfield. So he’s crowding the infield, and the batter drives one directly over his head, the hardest kind to go back on–it’s a lot easier if you can angle back, which is exactly what the center fielder did, arriving on the scene in straight-away left field just in time to leap and catch the ball above the head of his wobbling teammate. Play on! The guy had just entered the game the batter before. You hardly ever see a defensive substitution in the middle of an inning, but for that preceding at-bat a sacrifice fly would have ended the game, so one assumes the Dodgers inserted an outfielder with a stronger throwing arm. Then he makes a fabulous catch instead.

If you vote for the game-tying home run in the ninth inning by the Dodgers’ weak-hitting second baseman, when everyone was waiting for the next batter, Superman Ohtani, to have his chance . . . I won’t argue. Actually, it was the same fellow who made another do-or-die fielding play for the Dodgers, when his strong throw after catching an awkward hop completed a force out at home on what would have been the Jays’ winning run–different inning from The Catch in left field. Just too much to recount, including stuff I’ve probably already forgotten: memorable plays immediately overshadowed by even more memorable ones. If you watched and didn’t like it, don’t waste any more of your time on baseball.