A late-May crisis has struck Major League Baseball. What seemed on May 16 like a funny, isolated incident, in which Shohei Ohtani scored a Little League home run (officially scored a triple and an error) against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, has turned out to be far more insidious. No one at the time could guess what would follow for the next week. No one knows when it will stop. A day from now? A week? Never?
First, there was the Washington Nationals' James Wood, who, on May 19, notched his first-ever official grand slam off an inside-the-park homer. Naturally, this event took place against the Mets. The defining characteristic of this play was the ball ricocheting off the glove of Mets left fielder Nick Morabito as he jumped to the wall and then fell down in front of his teammate, center fielder Tyrone Taylor. While the ball trickled back into center field, Taylor stared at Morabito, who pointed futilely toward the ball, before taking matters into his own hands and running for the baseball. Wood, who is an average runner, would easily beat the off-target throw to home.
The play looks bad because of how Taylor stands in front of Morabito, hands vaguely dangling to either side, and is bad because the Nationals, after trailing 5-0, would go on to win the game 9-5. But it is not as fundamentally Little League as others out there. Wood's hit would have been the normal variety of home run in four MLB parks; he's also just a cool baseball player. It was also, as far as this matters, officially flagged as an inside-the-park home run, rather than Ohtani's triple-and-an-error maneuver.
No, in order to see a true Little League home run, we must look to Corbin Carroll, who scored on one that same day. Giants center fielder Harrison Bader got a decent bounce from Carroll's first-inning drive deep into left-center, and launched the ball toward third base. The relay throw, made nearly from the infield dirt, was accurate in a sense: Carroll, who had lost his helmet after rounding first base, received the ball directly to the back of his skull. As the ball rolled away, he rallied and scored easily.
Now, Carroll is extremely fast. You would imagine most players wouldn't ever try to go to third on that play, and you can think of the home run as a reward for his hustle. Also, in the Giants' defense, it was not necessarily a beefed throw. Carroll's head got in the way of the play!
Perhaps the most egregious Little League home runs—yes, multiple—took place the very next day, on May 20. First, there was the Milwaukee Brewers' David Hamilton, who blooped a single into center field, directly to the Chicago Cubs' Pete Crow-Armstrong, purportedly the "best center fielder—nay, defensive player in baseball." I would like "Statcast" and its "run value" to answer for how this man failed to scoop up the ball, chased it all the way to the warning track, and allowed Hamilton, who has had three extra-base hits all year, to effectively score a home run.
But again, at least Hamilton is fast, and the throw home could be seen in the same frame as Hamilton crossing the plate. The horrors in Chicago pale in comparison to what happened later that day in Miami. Two innings after Atlanta Braves DH Dominic Smith hit a three-run homer against the Marlins, he scooped another ball to deep center field. Miami center fielder Esteury Ruiz and right fielder Owen Caissie smashed into each other at the wall. Smith rounded second as Ruiz's throw came in from the outfield. Not too horrible to this point, as far as limiting the damage goes.
However, the affliction plaguing outfielders proved contagious. The throw bounced past both Miami cut-off men and went all the way to the third-base line. By then, the infield had totally given up on the play, and Smith, with his 19th-percentile sprint speed, slid into home plate. He was just too fast for them all.
Surely this was enough. Odd deluges like this must reach a breaking point, and Dominic Smith hitting a Little League home run should be the ideal place for this all to stop. We have already reached the peak of how a Little League home run can look. There is no more to achieve—
Oh no! Oh no! Here comes Brandon Lowe!
I propose we isolate MLB outfielders until we can figure this nonsense out.
