RMJ 61 April 16

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16 ● Houston, vs Montreal

Well, the video was inconclusive. It looked like Rodriguez hit the ball pretty well. The next time up, he went out on the second pitch, and it was impossible to see if he used a different bat.

Riding to the park with Cubby, I asked how to handle a bat challenge, because the rulebook was not clear on procedure and remedies. What he told me made so much sense, I don’t know how I failed to think of it:

You simply ask the umpire to confiscate the bat and have it checked. At the same time, you protest the game on a rule violation. If the bat is corked, you win and get to start over from that point on. If it is not, you drop your protest.

The checking process takes time. It is not free. Before I go out and make another team mad by taking one of their bats, I’ll have to be pretty sure I’m right. It might never happen.

 

Tonight’s game was a laugher. We won 10-2, with Shane Reynolds going the distance on a three-hit, 10-strikeout masterpiece. He even hit a two-run double. We scored six runs in the third inning, and never looked back.

I was feeling carefree about midway through, and I let my guard down when there were still issues that demanded attention.

The first was whether or not to try for more runs. That may seem a silly question, but with Shane out there striking everyone out, the Expos may have gotten the impression that we were rubbing their noses in it, which is a sore spot for most managers.

My feeling was that as long as we had a six-run lead, we would play conservatively: no stealing, no hitting-and-running, no bunting for hits.

When Reynolds gave up two runs in the fifth, I was suddenly in a losable game again. Wagner was out of action for the night with elbow pain, and I was still three innings away from Hudek. Reynolds settled down in the sixth, and we scored another run in the bottom of the frame.

Even the extra run struck momentary fear into my heart, as Bagwell came roaring around third base; when he went to slide at home, Bell’s bat was laying right in front of the plate, like a land mine. Jeff switched from a feet-first slide to a forward leap and sidelong tumble that allowed him to touch the plate with his hand.

He landed so hard that I thought he might be hurt. Fortunately, he smiled and gave Luis González a palms-up, why-didn’t-you-clear-the-bat-away gesture.

I was relieved, but the crash landing made me think about the time he has missed with broken bones in his hand. He easily could have broken a bone with that slide, and probably would have been better off to go feet-first, over the bat.

 

In the bottom of the seventh, we had a five-run lead. Spiers and Ausmus walked to open the inning. Reynolds was up, and I called for the bunt. Spiers kept dancing off second, like he wanted to steal third. Because we were way ahead, the Expos weren’t trying to hold him.

On the 2-1 pitch, I put on the steal sign, and Spiers did a double-take and asked to see the sign again. There wasn’t time, and he didn’t go, and Reynolds fouled it off trying to bunt.

Reynolds got his third and last try at bunting 2-2, and he struck out on a foul ball. Biggio and Bagwell followed with doubles, and we scored three runs to put the game out of reach.

I thought I had learned a valuable lesson about not getting overconfident and letting my mind wander; little did I know there would be more ponderables after the game.

The first came when Biggio asked me what I was thinking about when I had Shane bunting with two strikes. He didn’t know at that time that Spiers was supposed to steal and didn’t. Biggio felt like we were rubbing it in.

But I felt like Shane needed to bunt, because there will come a game where his bunt could be the difference between winning and losing. There is no better way to practice than to do it in the game. If the Expos were surprised, it didn’t show; third-baseman Shane Andrews charged hard on every attempt.

After Biggio came Spiers. He asked if the bunt was on — not in a critical way, but just to know. I think these guys today like to know what your theory is. They really analyze the game, and that is good. I do think, however, that they feel we have a team put away before the manager or coaching staff feels that way.

“The way I look at it, Billy, is that they are inviting you to steal by spreading their middle infielders,” I said. “I could tell by the way you were moving that you could get a great jump.

“Now, I also could have put the ‘don’t run’ sign on, to be a gentleman. But would Felipé Alou move his middle infielders in close, to guard against the steal, and thereby give our hitters a better chance to get a hit? No way.

“If he’s not going to hold runners, I am going to run. If he wants to hold the runner, I’ll shut down the running game. It’s that simple.

“Maybe if we had a 10-run lead with two innings left, I’d just quit. But I’ve seen this team lose a nine-run lead with three innings left. You gotta get the wins when you can, and get in the habit of taking what the other team gives you.”

Billy seemed satisfied with my explanation — and so did Biggio, for that matter. I think these guys appreciate being able to come up and talk to me about these things. And I am glad they are doing it.

We will get where we want to go faster if we go together.