David Ortiz Suspended, We have again arrived at that crazy David Ortiz Crossroads. Once there, we have a choice: Champion the cause of Big Papi and be dismissed as a toady or call the guy out for his latest act of churlish, childish behavior and be labeled a hater.
Before continuing, please know that the best approach — that is, the fair approach — is to take things on a case-by-case basis. A few for-instances:
• When Ortiz barged into then-Red Sox manager Terry Francona’s pregame presser a few years back to scream and holler about an official scorer’s call from the night before, that was minor league petulance on a big league stage. To say nothing of the fact that it made Francona look like an enabling messenger boy.
• People who whine and caterwaul when Ortiz pimps on home runs can’t seem to understand that Big Papi has a rare gift for celebrating baseball in an era when too many players skulk around as though they spent the night sleeping on broken glass. Props to Papi for pimping. It’s fun. Baseball needs more of it. Keep on keeping on, man.
• Remember the night David Ortiz mistook a Camden Yards dugout telephone for a 3-0 down-the-middle fastball? During a seventh-inning at-bat against a journeyman right-hander named Jairo Asencio, with the count 3-1, Ortiz did that thing he does when he can tell a pitch is a ball before it reaches the plate: He started making his way for first base. “Steeeeee-rike!!” home plate ump Tim Timmons said. (Or maybe I heard that in an old William Bendix movie. Whatever.) Ortiz didn’t like it, and he really didn’t like it after striking out on the next pitch, which was down near the dirt. He waved his hand across his head in a that-pitch-was-up-by-my-eyeballs kind of way, and then he retreated to the dugout and used his bat to smash the telephone to pieces, shards of bat flying about as Dustin Pedroia ducked for cover. Ortiz was fined. He should have been suspended.
• On that sunny Saturday afternoon in 2013, just days after the Boston Marathon bombings, David Ortiz grabbed a microphone during a pregame ceremony at Fenway Park and said, “This is our (expletive) city, and nobody’s gonna dictate our freedom.” There was some laughable grousing about the “message” this kind of language sends out to “the children,” and even more laughable grousing after the chairman of the FCC essentially gave Ortiz’ remarks a G rating. I wanted to buy Ortiz a car. And here’s why: This is our (expletive) city, and we were all pretty (expletive) angry by the end of that horrible week. Ortiz, who is one of us, spoke for us.
And here we are, back at the David Ortiz Crossroads . . .
In the fifth inning of an 8-3 loss Sunday to the Baltimore Orioles at Fenway, Ortiz was in the box when, with the count 1-1, he took a check swing that was called a strike by third base ump Jerry Meals. In the interest of fairness, Meals had called a strike on Ortiz during a first-inning check swing. Both calls were, at best, questionable.
What’s not questionable is that Ortiz flew into a rage that got him tossed by plate ump John Tumpane. Daniel Nava inherited the plate appearance, along with a 1-2 count, and promptly grounded out.
Let’s try to be grown-ups about this: At the time all this happened, the Sox were trailing by two runs. It was the fifth inning. It was in the middle of a plate appearance. Oh, and let’s add some bonus material: Because Ortiz made contact with Tumpane, he’s now looking at a one-game suspension.
Red Sox manager John Farrell, speaking to the media Sunday, agreed that it was not a good thing for Ortiz to be getting ejected from a game, but then did what most big league skippers do in these situations: He came to the defense of a star player.
“But he’s a competitor,” Farrell said. “And given some of the calls over the last couple of days, there’s some frustration there.”
So there’s that. And there’s a ready supply of data being spewed out about this or that call, all of it leading to Big Papi’s, you know, “frustration.”
Except that you shouldn’t be getting ejected from the fifth inning of a two-run game. In the middle of a plate appearance.
And whatever admirable level of “competitiveness” you possess, you can’t be making contact with umpires. It’s reckless, it’s immature, and, frankly, it’s dumb. And Major League Baseball shouldn’t abide by it.
That’s all for now. See you the next time we arrive at the David Ortiz Crossroads.
• When Ortiz barged into then-Red Sox manager Terry Francona’s pregame presser a few years back to scream and holler about an official scorer’s call from the night before, that was minor league petulance on a big league stage. To say nothing of the fact that it made Francona look like an enabling messenger boy.
• People who whine and caterwaul when Ortiz pimps on home runs can’t seem to understand that Big Papi has a rare gift for celebrating baseball in an era when too many players skulk around as though they spent the night sleeping on broken glass. Props to Papi for pimping. It’s fun. Baseball needs more of it. Keep on keeping on, man.
• Remember the night David Ortiz mistook a Camden Yards dugout telephone for a 3-0 down-the-middle fastball? During a seventh-inning at-bat against a journeyman right-hander named Jairo Asencio, with the count 3-1, Ortiz did that thing he does when he can tell a pitch is a ball before it reaches the plate: He started making his way for first base. “Steeeeee-rike!!” home plate ump Tim Timmons said. (Or maybe I heard that in an old William Bendix movie. Whatever.) Ortiz didn’t like it, and he really didn’t like it after striking out on the next pitch, which was down near the dirt. He waved his hand across his head in a that-pitch-was-up-by-my-eyeballs kind of way, and then he retreated to the dugout and used his bat to smash the telephone to pieces, shards of bat flying about as Dustin Pedroia ducked for cover. Ortiz was fined. He should have been suspended.
• On that sunny Saturday afternoon in 2013, just days after the Boston Marathon bombings, David Ortiz grabbed a microphone during a pregame ceremony at Fenway Park and said, “This is our (expletive) city, and nobody’s gonna dictate our freedom.” There was some laughable grousing about the “message” this kind of language sends out to “the children,” and even more laughable grousing after the chairman of the FCC essentially gave Ortiz’ remarks a G rating. I wanted to buy Ortiz a car. And here’s why: This is our (expletive) city, and we were all pretty (expletive) angry by the end of that horrible week. Ortiz, who is one of us, spoke for us.
And here we are, back at the David Ortiz Crossroads . . .
In the fifth inning of an 8-3 loss Sunday to the Baltimore Orioles at Fenway, Ortiz was in the box when, with the count 1-1, he took a check swing that was called a strike by third base ump Jerry Meals. In the interest of fairness, Meals had called a strike on Ortiz during a first-inning check swing. Both calls were, at best, questionable.
What’s not questionable is that Ortiz flew into a rage that got him tossed by plate ump John Tumpane. Daniel Nava inherited the plate appearance, along with a 1-2 count, and promptly grounded out.
Let’s try to be grown-ups about this: At the time all this happened, the Sox were trailing by two runs. It was the fifth inning. It was in the middle of a plate appearance. Oh, and let’s add some bonus material: Because Ortiz made contact with Tumpane, he’s now looking at a one-game suspension.
Red Sox manager John Farrell, speaking to the media Sunday, agreed that it was not a good thing for Ortiz to be getting ejected from a game, but then did what most big league skippers do in these situations: He came to the defense of a star player.
“But he’s a competitor,” Farrell said. “And given some of the calls over the last couple of days, there’s some frustration there.”
So there’s that. And there’s a ready supply of data being spewed out about this or that call, all of it leading to Big Papi’s, you know, “frustration.”
Except that you shouldn’t be getting ejected from the fifth inning of a two-run game. In the middle of a plate appearance.
And whatever admirable level of “competitiveness” you possess, you can’t be making contact with umpires. It’s reckless, it’s immature, and, frankly, it’s dumb. And Major League Baseball shouldn’t abide by it.
That’s all for now. See you the next time we arrive at the David Ortiz Crossroads.
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