Of Monsters and 'Monster Men'

The shift.

The second baseman moving over to short right, shortstop to right center, third baseman enjoying a smoke and a hot dog in the first row of the stands.

It's the baseball story of the 2014--that and all the glowing re2pect for the Yankee captain.

But what do you call that infielder hanging out in short right like an underage kid in a bar?

He's a monster man, saves David Cone.

"It looks like slow pitch softball out there," said Cone in a recent YES Network telecast. "The 'monster man' in those games played short right."

Boothmate Ken Singleton had his own term for the short, temporary right fielder.

"Monster man or rover," said Ken.

Maybe not enough people write about softball these days, but I don't see any use of "monster man" in a softball context in the interwebs.

I do see a football one on UTSports.com:
 
Three-time Vols football letterman Nick Showalter passed away on Monday at the age of 65. Showalter played "monster man" for the Vols from 1966-68. He went on to become a successful dentist in Knoxville.

And then:

In those days, Tennessee coach Doug Dickey often recruited prep quarterbacks, reasoning they were the best athletes on the team, and turned them into capable offensive and defensive players.
Dr. Showalter was one of those type players, playing defensive end and "monster man" during his career, a time in which the Vols won the SEC and national title in 1967 and graced three bowl games.
Apparently, "monster man" is a widely understood term down in Tennessee, as UT Sports offers no explanation as to what the heck it is.

But Wikipedia's "Glossary of American Football" defines it as:

A strong safety in a four-deep secondary with the ability to cover deep zones, defend against runs and, on occasion, play on the line of scrimmage.

The rover, says Answers.com, can be just about anywhere, as the word indicates.

The rover usually plays in shallow center-field, but like every other player (except the pitcher and catcher), can play anywhere on the field at any time.

Jeter Feeling 'Groovy' After Wainright Pipe Shot

Hey Adam Wainwright:

Maybe the next time you start the all-star game, don't through a cookie to the first batter you face!

And maybe, in case you do, in fact, serve up a giant meatball to the leadoff hitter, don't tell the media that you did so afterwards. It's insulting to the hitter...even if it's Derek Jeter...especially if it's Derek Jeter. It's insulting to the fans. It's insulting to the game.

And if you do choose to admit it to the media, don't later retract that statement by saying it was all a joke.

Lame!

In baseball parlance, Wainwright "grooved" the pitch to Jeter--gave him every chance to hit a straight fastball, which wasn't super-fast, in the Captain's final all-star game.

Wainright offered another term for it.

“I was going to give him a couple of pipe shots,” Wainwright told the NY Times. “He deserved it. I didn’t know he was going to hit a double or else I would have changed my mind. I thought he was going to hit something hard to the right side for a single or an out. I probably should have pitched him a little bit better.”

The Cardinals pitcher trotted out the verb form of "pipe shot" as well.

“I was hoping it would be the first pitch and he would take it,” he said. “Then I would say, ‘All right, I piped him one and he didn’t swing,’ so I could go to it. But I spiked it in the dirt. I gave him one more shot, and unfortunately he didn’t miss it.”

After a social media maelstrom broke out, Wainwright did what you do when your words spark a shitstorm. You say you were joking.

“Usually I kind of like to think about things before I say them, and obviously I didn’t do that very well,” he said. “And I’m an idiot. I made a mistake.”

Jeter doubled on the groove-y pitch. “If he grooved it, thank you," Jeet said. “You’ve still gotta hit it. But if that’s what he did, I appreciate it.”

There's some history of pitchers grooving pitches to notable hitters as a show of respect. The New York Post mentions Cal Ripken and Barry Bonds getting served up pipe shots late in their careers.

In '68, Denny McClain put one on a platter for Mickey Mantle when an aging Mantle was stuck on 534 homers--and tied for third on the all time list.

Asked how he wanted the pitch, the New York Times reports, Mantle said, “High and tight, mediocre cheese.”

Mediocre cheese is, of course, a synonym for a cookie or a meatball.

Now I must eat. 

Strike One...Two...Three...Nine

Master-ful!

You can pitch a perfect game, as 23 men have in MLB history, but it doesn't mean you've pitched an immaculate inning.

Immaculate innings are when a pitcher throws nine strikes--no balls, no fouls. Just strike one, two and three--three times in a half inning. In fact, you're more perfect when you're immaculate than when you're perfect; perfect games, after all, feature lots of balls and fouls.

Garrett Richards of the L.A. Angels did it earlier this month, just two days after Justin Masterson was similarly immaculate for the Cleveland Indians. (Making things even more immaculate, Masterson did it against his old Boston Red Sox mates; the Sawx had traded Masterson and others for Victor Martinez in 2009. V-Mart split two years later as a free agent.)

Two others have had immaculate innings this season, says the NY Times: Cole Hamels of the Phightin' Phils and Brad Boxberger of the Rays.

The Double I has its own entry on Wikipedia, which says John Clarkson was the first player to get one when his mighty Boston Beaneaters (real team name) faced the Philadelphia Quakers (like the Phils, without the fighting), in 1889.

It's been done just 75 times in Major League history, reports Baseball Almanac.

The last Met to do it, if you're scoring at home, was David Cone in 1991.

There Goes the Neighborhood Play

We've all seen it before.

Team A is looking to pull off a double play.

Team B is looking to disrupt said double play.

Team A's shortstop takes the toss from the second basemen, places his foot kind of/sort of near second base, and whips to first.

Out X 2.

This is, of course, the neighborhood play, which means the player does not actually have to step on second, but only has to be in the neighborhood of the base.

This allows middle infielders, as the New York Times put it in early May, "to protect themselves by getting out of the way of hard-charging runners."

The neighborhood play was initially feared to be going the way of letter-high strikes, posited Rob Neyer before the season started, thanks to the advent of video review. But it's not reviewable. 

Back in 2009, Rich Garcia, Major League Baseball umpire supervisor, denied there was such a thing. 
“There is no such thing as the neighborhood play,” he said. You either touch the base or you don’t.”

The New York Times says it's allowed, like pitchers and a spot of pine tar, as long as it's not too obvious. Stephen Drew was a little too obvious for the Red Sox during the American League Championship Series, though he did end up getting the out call.

“He wasn’t even in the neighborhood; he was in a different county," former middle infielder Alex Cora told the Times.

Neighborhood play is not to be confused with a neighborhood play, such as when Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla and the gang would get together to stage a little song and dance.