Thursday, June 2, 2011

Why baserunners should not run over the catcher

I was a freshman in high school. I received the peg from my teammate and positioned myself in front of home plate, slightly up the third baseline. Once it became clear that the runner had no intention of sliding, I braced for contact. I held the tag for the third out of the inning. As the rowdy crowd of 12 fans expressed their jubilation, I performed the following sequence: retrieved my catcher's mask, made eye contact with the runner, winked, and flipped the ball to the mound. For that moment, I was one bad dude.

In the days following Buster Posey's season ending injury, writers and fans alike considered the issue of collisions at home plate. Some defended the play, adament that it is just "part of the game." Others feel that it should be removed to protect teams from losing star players such as Posey. I do not want baseball to introduce a rule that bans running over the catcher. I want runners to stop doing it for a different reason.

It does not work.

What about plays where the catcher does drop the ball? Watch those plays again. In the majority of them, the catcher never caught the ball anyway. The runner was safe regardless, and he would have gotten there faster with a slide. If you beat the throw, why choose to collide with a guy wearing gear? Check the Buster Posey play again. Scott Cousins was safe no matter what; that does not constitute a "successful" collision play at the plate.

When a catcher does have the ball in enough time that running him over is a good play, does he ever drop it? Think of your prototypical catcher: a big block of a guy. Runners should save themselves the sore muscles because they will not jar that ball loose.

What should runners do instead? Slide feet first every time. Slide by almost every time. Read where the throw is, slide to the other side of the plate, and slap it with your hand on your way by. In all the bang-bang plays where colliding with the catcher "works," a slide works just as effectively. Think of a catcher, in gear, with a catcher's glove, receiving a throw and reaching to the opposite side of the plate to make a tag. It does not happen very often; it's a clumsy play to make, and in their haste to make a quick tag a catcher often drops the ball or just misses the runner completely.

Runners who slide feet first will also stay the course to the plate. The most nonsensical plays at the plate involve runners who are so busy blasting the catcher they have to go back and touch the plate (if they are not already out).

People argue: "If he's in the way, then he deserves to get run over." How often are plays at the plate that tidy? How often does the catcher have the ball, in perfect position to block the plate, and the runner has no choice but to run him over? Not very often, unless we are talking about the climactic scene (3:10 of video) of A League of Their Own.

If the catcher has the time to catch the ball, get up the third baseline, and dig in for a collision, what should the runner do instead of colliding with him? Juke him. That is not a joke. Fake right, dive left. Juke left, slide right. Remember your image of a typical catcher. Is he more likely to drop the ball or whiff on a juking runner? Some may find this idea silly, but it is probably just as likely to be successful as running over a catcher who has already secured the throw. Spin move? You bet. If the throw beats you by that much, either of these options is a concession that you are most likely going to be out.

Here is one example for Rockies fans: Matt Holliday's run to win the play-in game against the Padres. Drew Goodman, the current play-by-play announcer on Root Sports, argued that Holliday should have run Michael Barrett over. Yes, he would have been safe if he had done that because Michael Barrett never had the ball (which we should always point out to bitter Padres fans). Like so many times where it "works," the catcher was never going to have the throw in time to make a tag anyway. In his haste, Barrett rushed and never caught the ball; he was going to either tag with an empty glove or whiff completely. If Holliday veers off to the right, slides by Barrett, and slaps the plate with his left hand, he can pop up and celebrate with his boys instead of lying on the ground with a headache trying to remember what day of the week it was. We also would have avoided the whole "he never touched the plate" controversy.

If ineffectiveness is the first reason to avoid colliding with the catcher, ego preservation is the second. When a catcher does hold on, he gets a rare "in your face!" moment as he stares you down and flips the ball out to the mound (assuming it's the 3rd out). All the while, you're pretending it did not hurt to run over one of the beefiest guys on the field while he was wearing hard plastic shin guards. I had one "badass" moment in my whole career, and it was when I held onto the third out after a collision. Still relishing that one.

I was run over exactly four times as a catcher; I held onto the tag all four times. I cannot remember a single time I recorded an out at the plate when the runner slid to avoid me. I struggled way too much to find runners behind me or reach quickly enough to tag them. Why invite a tag by running into the catcher when he is more likely to miss you than drop the ball?

As a coach, I would tell my runners that they are absolutely not allowed to run over the catcher. Partially for the safety of the players, but the much larger reason would be because I believe it gave my team the best chance to score more runs.

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