A little compassion: Been there, done that when it comes to bobbles at third
How many times have you heard that old admonition about not criticizing somebody until you have walked a mile in his moccasins. Know the feeling of the guy you might be second guessing, been there and done that, all the old reminders to know how the object of your criticism is feeling at the moment. Been there, etc.
That all came to mind on Sunday evening while watching the Boston Red Sox beat the St. Louis Cardinals to go two-up in the World Series.
But the object of my interest was Boston third baseman Bill Mueller, who before the game ended would be charged with three errors.
Three bobbles in one game. How many players have you known who might have made that many in a month? But three in three hours!
For you skeptics who might have that “aw, c’mon” feeling, forget it. Been there and done that…
Lets go back a few years to when I was actually trying to play the game. On this particular day, only nine players showed up, so it was a case of the starters being in there for the entire game, no matter what happened. Fortunately for me, but unfortunately in one respect for the team.
As some of you have heard me say many times, it is my opinion that the most difficult position to play on the ball field is third base. You can argue all you want to about catching, which I’ll concede is also a tough position. But I still regard third base as the toughest for the way the ball comes rocketing toward you, and if you happen to daydream for an instant, you stand the chance to be in beaucoup trouble.
Well, on this particular day the manager looked at me and said, “You’re on third.”
After a gasped “huhhhhh?” my old observation came out that “hey, nobody in his right mind plays third base.”
He very sympathetically (unsymp…?) answered “that’s why I’m putting you there.”
So we got started, and it wasn’t very long until it became quite evident that, for some reason or other, call it the baseball fates if you will, it was going to be “one of those days.”
Of the first three balls that came my way, two ended up in left field and the third was recovered by the shortstop. Three chances, three zeroes. Three “E’s” in the scorebook.
The manager called time and signaled to the right fielder, adding, “you two guys trade places,” with the added reminder to me “you can’t do any more damage out there.”
Want to bet!
A fly ball came to right, and…Yep. A fourth “E.”
Anyway, despite my shortcomings, we did win the game, and I had a couple of hits. Actually, I never again had a day that could even approach that one for misfortune. I had a lot of good games and more fun than you could count playing. But for that one day, mercy, mercy!
However, the stigma of those errors still hangs over my past. For all I know it’s still a record. At least I can’t recall reading about anybody ever surpassing that graven baseball miscarriage.
Think back over the years, to the many baseball games I have reported. If a bobble occurred on the field, you would read that so and so “got aboard on an error,” but you never read who made the error.
Nope. The crowd knows who did it, the miscalculating player knows who did it, and the memory is there forever, although eventually being forgotten with the passing of time. Except at team reunions, or sitting around discussing games withhold teammates.
They know and you know. Been there and done that. And those moccasins can get a little tight after one mile.
Jim Kriek is a Herald-Standard sports correspondent.