I am a bit sleep-deprived on my first day of work. I certainly could have slept last night—my excitement for the dream of interning here was outweighed by Amtrak-induced exhaustion. But unfortunately for me, Oregon State was doing something to USC on a baseball field. It wasn't exactly baseball, not as you and I know it. What it was ... well ... maybe you can tell me.
It would have been OSU's two consecutive squeeze plays, which made three consecutive bunts of what would be four bunts in the second inning—that was when I knew that I would have no escape to unconsciousness.
I'm pretty sure I once saw a team hit three homers in a row, but it didn't really stick with me. Every batter is always sort of trying to hit a home run, or at least hit the ball hard. There's no extra stench of a tactic if a team does it a bunch, and if a team could hit a home run any time they wanted to, I doubt they would stop at three. Three homers in a row means the pitcher is having a bad day. Three bunts in a row is something you do to a friend who has not yet figured out how to throw to bases in Mario Superstar Baseball. Three bunts in a row means you are Up To Something.
In the next inning, the broadcast interviewed the OSU manager in the dugout and essentially asked him what the fuck that was. The manager rather halfassedly feigned innocence: "Just following the flow of our guys right there, and the looks they were giving us." Horseshit! Canon Reeder had a 113 WRC+ this year, and you put on the safety squeeze! Reeder's bunt wasn't even good; it popped up and headed foul. But the USC third baseman was both too late to catch the ball and too sorry about being late to not touch it in fair territory.
Some of you might be thinking that this manager is just a throwback who teaches grit and playing the game the right way. A few innings later, OSU got a few home runs, because this team does actually slug pretty well, and by the seventh they were up 9-1. Even in a D-I playoff game, such a redass would ease off a little. It's rude to show up your opponent, and even if you think unwritten rules are dumb, it's still smart baseball to chill out a little bit for load-management purposes. Right? RIGHT?
Four-pitch walk, bunt single, four-pitch walk (while attempting to bunt again), pitching change, shitty little dinker to short for a gift double play so we can all get on with our lives ... uh oh. OSU challenged the out call at first. It wasn't even an inning-ending double play! That crucial ninth insurance run scores either way. But the call was overturned, and the next batter knocked in another to make it a 11-1 lead.
This is not smallball. It is heinousball. There is malice aforethought. One does not try two more bunts with an eight-run lead unless one is possessed by a bored cruelty generally confined to middle schools or the White House. But what Easton Talt did at the game's end betrayed no premediation; it was all instinct.
By the bottom of the ninth, OSU's lead had grown to 13 runs. USC's leadoff man singled, then the next man struck out. Two outs stood between me and sleep. The next USC hitter looped a ball out to right field. Talt—who really needed to remain healthy for the next day's do-or-die game—acted as though this game was still in doubt and losing would actually be punished by a loss of life. He went for broke. He laid out. He did not catch the ball, not on the fly anyway. Talt managed to snag the short hop, probably by sheer luck, and threw the ball into second to force out a befuddled pinch runner.
I look forward to properly introducing myself to y'all soon. I just needed to get this off my chest.
