From Phil Mushnick in Friday’s NY Post.
in Game 2 of the ALDS, David Ortiz hit a fly ball double down the left field line. Running on contact, Ortiz beat the throw to second. Mike Piazza, working the Red Sox-White Sox series for ESPN, then had this to say:
“And with the hustle into second base, that’s gonna fire your team up; that’s gonna get the energy going in the dugout and get some momentum going. And it’s a game of momentum.”
Well, ya don’t say?
Over the last eight years, we watched Piazza linger near home plate after hitting fly balls; we saw him standing on first base when he so often should have been on second. And then Wednesday, he reminds a national TV audience how important it is to run to first.
I shouldn’t have to remind Mushnick that Piazza is an already-slow enough catcher, one who suffered numerous injuries during his spell with the Mets. Did Piazza stand back and admire a couple of balls that narrowly missed being home runs? Certainly. But I’m also presuming that Mushnick’s ability to do his job wouldn’t be affected either way were he to reinjure a knee or a groin.
And on that note, Phil’s annual entry about the late start times of the baseball playoff games is nothing if not predictable. Mushnick has a lot of nerve calling someone else lazy when he can barely be bothered to turn in a new column every week. And with regurgitation in mind, the following note from last October 29 is newly dedicated to Phil, Will Leitch, and the rest of you lightweights who don’t wanna admit that you’re up ’til 3am watching “Designing Women” re-runs.
I had to watch the last 5 World Series prior to this one with UK starting times of 1am or later, so Phil can fuck off with his sob story about needing sleep. So he has to work the next day (gee, I wonder what that must be like) — what would he have to write about the next morning were it not for the ballgame running late? If Phil is really concerned about his children or anyone else’s missing baseball history for fear of dozing off, he can do something useful — bust out the amphetamines, shut up and get out of the way.
And what’s with the manufactured outrage over an 11pm first pitch? Does the real action at Happy Endings commence before midnight, or is there any to speak of? Here’s a serious newsflash for my favorite New York-based members of the sporting media elite — it’s a big country, assholes. If you wanna pretend the entire West Coast doesn’t exist, go right ahead. I’ll be around later to confiscate your Beach Boys, Too Short and Giant Sand CD’s, along with most of your pornography.