Although it is merely a simple gesture of achievement, nothing seems to incite a pitcher, or fan’s, rage more than the bat flip. Chris Archer kisses his bicep; Fernando Rodney shoots an arrow, and Jose Valverde goes generally nuts, but yet, we never get upset at pitcher’s who celebrate recording that crucial out. Strikeout or groundout, the pitcher celebration is, for some unknown reason, more socially acceptable among fans and analysts alike. They celebrate getting out of a jam, getting the last out of a monotonous inning, and pretty much anytime something goes their way, fist pump or otherwise.
Earlier this week David Ortiz, hereafter referred to as Papi, reignited a stagnate beef between the Red Sox and Rays with a throw of the bat and a nonchalant jaunt around the base paths. Slightly more inflammatory than some of his other post-hit activities, this was obviously a calculated act in the wake of David Price’s “bigger than the game comments” by one of the ultimate head gamers in today’s game. A little whiny, definitely brash, always entertaining, Papi loves his role as the big bat. Yelling at umpires, official scorers, and journalists, his opinions are rarely a cause for speculation and he obviously wanted Archer (that day’s pitcher) and the Rays to know how he felt.
But why is it such an upsetting act? Yes, over the top, but it’s a mere toss of the bat. Was it the casual stroll after the fact or the initial throw? In any case, as fans we tend to side with the pitchers. The bat-flip shows lack of respect for the game, for the opponent, and pretending something done about five thousand times a year is special seems to be a bit much to most.
I however, don’t share this opinion. If I could step to the plate against someone throwing mid to high 90’s heat and turn it into a souvenir, I’d probably toss the bat into the air while singing “God Bless America”, cartwheel around 1st, crab walk to second, and skip to third followed by a brief tea party at home plate catered by some well-reputed steak house and mouth kiss the cute blonde sitting above the dugout, or not. Either way, that was fun to ponder.
Yasiel Puig has also become known for his own shenanigans, but his problem is that he’s too young. For the most part there isn’t a pitcher willing to throw at the average veteran player after a small show-up. Likely a colossal pain in the ass (ex: showing up late, speeding tickets, etc.), Puig has survived defection, and turned into one of the rising stars in a league that has lost a lot in the last few years. This back story, coupled with transcendent talent, says to me the dude deserves a fair amount of levity, not a shared opinion by any stretch. He’s a five-tool player that plays hard, plays flashy, and regularly wows even the most avid fan, but yet, we can’t stop hating him for something so trivial.
Like the Dodgers metaphorically tea-bagging the Diamondback’s pool, we will forget Papi’s shenanigans… kind of, if YouTube ceases to exist, but until that day, we hate. Like all great things, we need a villain. We need to hate so we can love, enjoy the venom of truly despising one’s minor transgressions, and eventually forgive. Hate is the only emotion stronger than love in the sport’s fans arsenal and nothing brings it out more clearly than a well-timed bat flip.
I’m pretty old school for the most part, I loathe that we legislated out the home plate collision and won’t allow pitchers to throw at players to protect their own, but I just don’t see why a bat flip followed by a reasonably paced trot is such a crime. A home run is a beautiful thing… unless you’re behind. Act like you’ve been there before is probably the most important statement any player can be reminded of. If you hit a game-tying, lead taking, or game winning bomb then you get to do what you want. If you hit one that tacks on an extra run or two in a 6-2 game, just toss the bat near the bat boy, waltz around the bases graciously and don’t show up your opponent, please, or else I’ll blog you to death, mostly because I can’t stand 24 hours of ESPN talking about it.
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