CURB!
On J.T. Realmuto, brain blips and wandering down a Kuiper rabbit hole.
Some years ago, I was test-driving a bicycle at a store. When I was a kid, I basically lived on my bicycle, as kids do, but it had been many years since I’d ridden. I thought it might be fun to get back into cycling. So I test-drove a bicycle in the parking lot.
I was immediately able to start riding the bike. It was kind of crazy, like I had never lost that ability. Someone should come up with an expression about that. But here’s the thing; I was riding that bicycle and enjoying myself, and then I saw a curb in front of me. And it’s like my mind had a blackout. None of the thoughts that you might expect to pop up — hit the brakes, turn the wheel, etc. — even occurred to me.
Here’s what I remember thinking.
CURB!
ARGGH!
CURB!
BLURGH!
CURRRRRRBBBBBB!
I hit the curb, went flying, got scraped up, and was immediately surrounded by several freaked-out store employees. I was fine. The bike was fine. I bought the bike, actually. But I’ve never forgotten that moment when my brain just shut down, and ever since I’ve had extra sympathy for people who, in the moment, just blip out.
Today’s sympathy goes to Philadelphia catcher J.T. Realmuto.
Here was the situation: The Dodgers led 2-1 going into the bottom of the ninth. Alec Bohm singled off the Dodgers’ Tanner Scott, and Phillies manager Don Mattingly sent in Justin Crawford to pinch-run. Justin Crawford is one of the fastest players in baseball.
After Edmundo Sosa struck out, Realmuto blasted a hard double off the wall in left. I don’t know if Crawford got a bad jump or what, but he didn’t get to third until the ball was already back in the infield. It SEEMED off the bat there might be a chance for him to at least threaten to score. But maybe that’s not fair. I don’t know.
What I do know is that the next batter, Brandon Marsh, chopped a little grounder to third. Crawford broke for home. It was a mistake. He had absolutely zero percent chance of scoring. He seemed to realize that almost immediately, and he sort of stopped and then realized he was a dead man no matter what, so he got himself caught in the rundown so that Realmuto could at least get to third. It was not a particularly successful pinch-running appearance for Crawford, but at least he salvaged a chance for the Phillies to score Realmuto from third.
Only he didn’t.
Oh, Realmuto made it to third … pretty easily, in fact. He, too, ran on contact. He made it to third base, and it would now be up to Derek Hill to drive him in.
Only then, Realmuto started running back to second base.
There’s no explanation for this. Even Realmuto said as much. I imagine in his mind, he heard nothing but CURB! BLURGH! CURRRRBBB! and his legs just took over and did whatever they wanted to do. Mookie Betts tagged out Marsh, and then, because he’s Mookie Betts and he notices everything, he noticed that Realmuto was illogically and irresponsibly trying to get back to second base, so Betts threw him out too, and that was the end of the game.
“There’s no reason for me to go back to second,” Realmuto said after the game. No excuses. No explanations. No cover-ups. I appreciate that. We are human beings, and sometimes we just fritz out.
Or, as Tanner Scott said when asked what was going through his mind as he saw the play unfold, “Oh poop! Oh poop!”
Tomorrow’s the big day! We are revealing the cover for FIFTY SEASONS: Stories of the Baseball Years That Echo. I think it’s beautiful.
So, I’m trying something today … and I admit that I might never do it again. But I might. I’m letting a reader send me into a rabbit hole. Today’s rabbit hole is brought to you by Brilliant Reader Lou, who sent me a hilarious newspaper ad from 1977.
This one’s got a little bit of everything, and it stars my hero Duane Kuiper.
And halter tops.
And polka music.
If you would like to send me on another crazy deep dive, send your request along to askjoe@joeposnanski.com.
