It’s Wednesday, July 2. Major league teams will play 19 games today. That’s 11 regular games, plus three doubleheaders and one more doubleheader that isn’t technically a doubleheader because the first half is the resumption of a game that got suspended due to rain yesterday. For the first time in human history, it is quite possibly enough baseball. On the off chance that you weren’t able to catch all 19 games, you can get caught up here.
Athletics at Rays, 12:10 PM Eastern
It’s the bottom of the fourth inning and Yandy Díaz, as is his wont, smashes a groundball. The Other Max Muncy, who started the game at third base and then shifted over to shortstop, fields it deep in the hole, but the ball finds yet another hole. It bursts the webbing in Muncy’s glove, lodging itself deep in the leather. Muncy reaches into his glove as he leaps into the air for a jump throw. His hand is still in the glove when he lands.
Cardinals at Pirates, 12:35 PM Eastern
It’s the top of the third in Pittsburgh, and this time it’s Thomas Saggese who smashes a grounder deep into the hole. The ball just bounces past a diving Ke’Bryan Hayes, but Isiah Kiner-Falefa makes a beautiful sliding stop on one knee and comes up firing. Well, he almost comes up firing. Right as he pulls the ball from his glove, there’s a split second where he looks like he’s going to double clutch. Maybe he’s just finding the seams, but the momentary hitch breaks up what could have been a play so smooth that it would have stuck in your mind forever as an archetype.
The ball still arrives with time to spare. Spencer Horwitz makes a beautiful backhanded pick at first. Saggese makes a valiant, vain attempt to reach the bag with one giant stride. The interesting thing is that Saggese’s sliding mitt bounces out of his back pocket as his foot left foot crashes down onto the base. The really interesting thing is that this doesn’t happen all the time. Everybody carries their sliding mitt in their back pocket these days. You can tell because the sliding mitt is way too big to fit in a back pocket. It always looks like it’s about to bounce out, but it never seems to happen. Until today.
Tigers at Nationals, 1:05 PM Eastern
It’s the top of the fourth in Washington, and Gleyber Torres fouls a ball off to the right side. Then he does it again. But the second ball looks for all the world like it landed right on the foul line. On the outside edge of the foul line, but still on the foul line. The Tigers challenge. Umpire Will Little doesn’t get his microphone working until he’s almost finished announcing the challenge, so all the fans hear him say is, “Foul call.” The challenge takes a while. The replay shows the ball hitting the line, a plume of chalk rising from the grass. Torres sees it on the jumbotron and unfastens his wrist guard. He turns to the visitor’s dugout and smiles, points to the heavens and offers thanks for a base hit. The call stands. Everyone is confused. Even the Nationals fans are booing. Torres walks back to the plate, puts his armor back on, draws a walk two pitches later, removes his armor again, and returns to first. He scores when Riley Greene launches a three-run home run. The Tigers lead, 10-0. There are no outs.
Brewers at Mets, 1:10 PM Eastern
It’s the bottom of the third in Queens, and Freddy Peralta very nearly blows a high fastball past Juan Soto for strike three. Soto, whose sliding mitt looks like it’s going to fall out of his back pocket any second now, swings under the ball, but he catches just enough of it to push its trajectory upward. Rather than landing in the center of William Contreras’ mitt for strike three, it smashes into the webbing and caroms crazily around the mitt before falling out. Then it happens again. Peralta pours in another high fastball and Soto just catches the very bottom of the ball. This time, it smashes into the thick edge of the catcher’s mitt, torquing both mitt and hand backward awkwardly. Those few inches of give very nearly stop the momentum of the 96.8 mph pitch entirely, and when the glove and hand have bent back as far as they can go, they spring forward again, ever-so-gently pushing the ball straight up into the air. It floats there for a moment.
Padres at Phillies, 1:05 PM Eastern
It’s the bottom of the ninth in Philadelphia. Trea Turner dumps a two-out single into center field. Brandon Marsh reads it all the way and tries to go first to third, but Jackson Merrill reads it all the way too, taking a do-or-die risk on an in-between hop, fielding it cleanly, and unleashing a perfect throw to third. Marsh dives into the base. Manny Machado steps out to pick the ball and brushes the tag onto Marsh’s foot well before he reaches third. The game is over. The Phillies challenge because why wouldn’t they?
But at a certain point the fans stop filing out of the bleachers. You have to stitch two replays together in your mind, but it sure seems like Machado’s perfect pick-and-tag was a little light on the tag part. He came about as close to Marsh’s foot as he could without actually touching it. The game isn’t over anymore. Turner represents the tying run at first base with Kyle Schwarber coming to the plate. Maybe the Padres are rattled, because first baseman Luis Arraez plays back rather than holding Turner on. Turner looks like someone who thinks he’s being set up for a practical joke, but he’s not suspicious enough to refuse a free bag. He cruises into second standing up on the first pitch to Schwarber. Shortstop Xander Bogaerts raises his hands and looks into the Padres dugout to ask what the hell is going on. It’s Turner’s 300th career stolen base. If we’re lucky, this casual steal will find its way into supercuts of Turner’s biggest career milestones, and we’ll get to enjoy Bogaerts’ nonplussed expression for decades. Through sheer negligence, the Padres have put the tying run in scoring position.
More importantly, have you ever noticed that the fancy seats behind home plate at Citizens Bank Park are just collections of rectangles? The back of the chair is one large rectangle, but it’s made up of three separate, narrower rectangles, two blue ones on the outside and a black one in the middle. On top, covering the last inch or two of the seat-back rectangles is a head rest rectangle. They look cushy, but it’s hard to say for certain. Schwarber chases a fastball at his eyes to end the game.
Reds at Red Sox, 2:30 PM Eastern
It’s the top of the fourth right at 2:30. We’re continuing Tuesday’s game, which was suspended due to rain. The seats are still mostly empty. Just for the top of the fourth, NESN is having fun with a vintage graphics package. The video is warm, oversaturated, with the contrast turned way, way up. It’s baseball through an Instagram filter.
The Red Sox are winning, 2-1. If they can hold onto the lead, it will be the first time they’ve ever won a game started by Richard Fitts. Fitts has a 3.33 ERA, but he’s 0-4 over 11 career starts. As he only pitched three innings yesterday, he can’t pick up the win either way, but his lead is gone soon enough. Spencer Steer, the third batter of the day, launches a high fly ball to left field.
Before the pitch, the broadcast is leaning into the vintage theme with a split screen that shows both the batter and the runner on first. A thick yellow stripe runs down the center of the picture. As a result, the high home camera starts zoomed in too far to track the ball in the air. It follows left fielder Jarren Duran instead. You hear the clunk of the ball hitting the Green Monster, and you wait for it to fall back down toward Duran. It doesn’t. It must have landed on top of the Monster. Fitts’ lead is gone, but the Red Sox will find another in the eighth inning. They’re now 1-11 when Richard Fitts starts a game.
Padres at Phillies, 6:15 PM Eastern
On the first pitch of the nightcap, Fernando Tatis Jr. is viciously attacked by his own bat. He stumbles out of the box after a routine bouncer to short. The replay shows a surprisingly smooth follow-through, but when Tatis reaches out and drops the bat, the barrel lands right next to his back foot at an odd angle. The handle catches enough of his lower leg to throw him off balance. He spins his wheels and turns his head to stare at the offending implement. “I thought you were my friend,” you can almost hear him thinking as he jogs pointlessly toward first.
Twins at Marlins, 6:40 PM Eastern
Byron Buxton leads off the game with a single, then advances to second on a wild pitch. Once he arrives at second, he does something so old-school that it would bring tears to the eyes of your high school baseball coach. He turns first toward the right-center field gap, then the left-center field gap, taking note of where the outfielders are stationed so that he can make informed baserunning decisions. Just to imprint the information fully on his mind, he raises his hand to the brim of his helmet, then extends his arm, sighting out toward the gap. The fact that he’s doing so with an oven mitt on his hand undercuts the gesture only the tiniest bit.
Willi Castro lines a one-out single up the middle, and Buxton freezes for just a moment to make sure it’s not going to hang up for the center fielder. He takes off, rounds third in full gear, but slams on the brakes when third base coach Tommy Watkins gives him the red light. Once he’s returned to the bag, Buxton finds Watkins’ eyes and tilts his head ever so slightly. His meaning is unmistakable: I would’ve made it…
Tigers at Nationals, 6:45 PM Eastern
We should be proud of ourselves for mentioning so infrequently the fact that the PitchCom receiver creates an unsightly bulge, making it look like the pitcher has either a wonky hat or a wonky head. For not mentioning this all the time, we should be commended. Possibly, we should be awarded a medal of some kind.
Yankees at Blue Jays, 7:07 PM Eastern
The Blue Jays are up 7-0 before Will Warren can get two outs. No one is warming in the bullpen. He surrenders one more infield hit – Andrés Giménez’s second hit of the first inning – before escaping. He’ll have to wear this one, though he won’t take the loss. The Yankees will come all the way back in the top half of the eighth, only to cough up the lead in the bottom half. The Amazon Prime video feed is garbage, glitchy and blocky, and it won’t allow you to take a screenshot for some weird reason. The audio works well enough that you can hear Warren scream the F word into his glove quite clearly once he finally retires the side. With the sound off, though, it’s easy enough to pretend that he’s just sneezing.
Brewers at Mets, 7:10 PM Eastern
There’s something weird behind the plate at Citi Field. It’s resting on top of the wall, to the left of the batter. It’s some sort of cube with a black aperture. It sits in front of what look like two microphones with fuzzy windscreens. It’s got to be some sort of camera or radar setup. Maybe it’s a microphone too. Last season, the presumable microphones were in the same place, but the box was shifted over toward the right, and it didn’t sit on top of the wall. It was built directly into the wall. Now it’s an extra box, and it’s problematic. The edges are all crooked. It seams to be leaning slightly to one side. It’s not lined up true with the wall. We may never know what it is unless we can assign some brave member of the grounds crew to poke their finger in there.
Reds at Red Sox, 7:10 PM Eastern
Matt McLain extends the top of the third inning with a Baltimore chop. Baltimore is the city of improbably high bounces. The ball hits the plate and takes off like a rocket. Pitcher Jorge Alcala camps out under it, helpless. He raises his hands in anticipation, and for a long moment he looks like he’s praying for rain. The one large, leather drop finally descends, but it’s far too late to catch McLain at first base.
Angels at Braves, 7:15 PM Eastern
There is not, nor could there be, a player whose appearance more closely matches their role on the baseball field than Nick Allen. The young shortstop exudes Archie Graham energy. He is the ghost of Mark Lemke. The Kevlar-padded batting gloves make his hands look just a little bit cartoony, like he’s afraid the bat will literally be knocked out of his hands. On cue, Allen grounds out to third base to end the bottom of the second.
Guardians at Cubs, 7:05 PM Central
Everything Tanner Bibee does is compact, constrained. He hunches his shoulders on the mound and holds his hands close to his chin. The ball is his secret. When he starts his delivery, he seems determined not unfold his arms until it’s absolutely necessary. Instead, he generates momentum by rocking his torso backward, then forward. He’s pitching in a phone booth. He raises his front leg, keeping it tucked into his body as long as he can, reluctantly taking a measured stride. Once it’s finally time to let the ball go, he doesn’t reach out toward the plate for velocity and extension. He cuts his arm action short to spin the ball as efficiently as possible, straight down for the curveball, straight across for the sweeper. Reluctantly, already bending improbably, the ball leaves him.
Orioles at Rangers, 7:05 PM Central
Tomoyuki Sugano has a 41% zone rate. That’s the eighth lowest among all qualified starters, and yet the first three batters he faces swing at the first pitch they see and put it into play. Sugano has two outs and a man on first before he’s thrown his fourth pitch. More importantly, he sets up all the way to the third base side of the rubber, so he has to lean back at an angle while he waits for the catcher to call the next pitch. The result is that on every pitch, even before the catcher tells him what to throw, he looks extremely skeptical. This is not the face of a man who thinks you’re calling a good game.
Astros at Rockies, 6:40 PM Mountain
It’s the top of the third, and Yainer Diaz hits a grounder to shortstop Ryan Ritter. It would be hard to imagine a more routine groundball. It’s a four-hopper just two steps to his left. Ritter has been great on defense this year. Thirteen Rockies have spent at least 120 innings in the field, and he’s one of just three with fewer than two errors. You know where this is going. Ritter slides over a little too casually and ends up with an in-between hop. He slaps his throwing hand into his glove to trap the ball, but it’s already gone. It bounced off the heel of his glove, then his forearm, and it’s now waiting patiently for him on the dirt a few more steps to his left. It’s the team’s league-leading 73rd error of the season. They’re on pace for 138, a mark no team has hit in the last 16 years (though the Red Sox, on pace for just one less, might just beat them there). The next batter grounds out to second. No harm done.
Royals at Mariners, 6:40 PM Pacific
Cal Raleigh has the day off. As in, he actually gets to rest. He’s not in the starting lineup. He won’t come in to pinch-hit. He will sit in the dugout and breathe. It’s just the third time this entire season that he hasn’t started a game, and it will be just the second time that he doesn’t play at all. No player in baseball has earned his rest more than Raleigh. Mitch Garver goes 2-for-4.
Giants at Diamondbacks, 6:40 PM Pacific(?)
There are two outs in the bottom of the third, and Geraldo Perdomo isn’t going to swing unless somebody makes him. Landen Roupp starts him out with a beautifully located sinker on the inside corner, but Perdomo spins away desperately as if the ball had designs on his life. “Ball, that’s in,” says the umpire. Roupp misses high, then inside. Perdomo may as well not be there at all, he’s so disinterested. It’s 3-0, and there’s no way he’s swinging 3-0. Roupp hits the outside corner to make it 3-1. There’s no way Perdomo is swinging 3-1 either. Roupp hits the corner again to make it a full count. Perdomo takes a little stroll away from the batter’s box, taps his bat against his toes. For the first time, he’s confronted with the reality that he may actually have to use it for something other than cleat maintenance. He doesn’t like the notion. He steps in. He calls time out. He tries to remember what his swing feels like. He steps back in. The payoff pitch is wide. Perdomo never even flinches.
White Sox at Dodgers, 7:10 PM Pacific
Edgar Quero wants to dunk. Specifically, he wants to nail slam dunk framing. Quero’s framing numbers are, well, not particularly good, but it’s not for a lack of trying. He puts so much effort into slam dunk framing, getting his glove up and swatting it down while he catches a high pitch. Quero starts his glove higher and slams it down harder than anybody, and he holds his glove in its new position, laughably distant from the location where it actually crossed the plate, longer than anybody.
The days of subtle framing, of taking care not to move your glove too dramatically, lest you offend the umpire and lose the edge of the plate for the rest of the night, are long dead, but even by today’s standards, Quero’s technique is gauche. And, grading on a curve, it’s working at least a little bit. According to Statcast, he ranks 26th out qualified 56 catchers in framing at the top of the zone. It’s one of just two areas (out of eight) in which he grades out as above average. This pitch came in a solid five inches above the strike zone, but Quero’s already whisked it at least 12 inches below the top of the zone, and his glove is still moving fast enough to be a blur. He will steal six strikes tonight, tied for the most of any pitcher on this day of 19 games. Only one of those strikes will be at the top of the zone.
Content Source: blogs.fangraphs.com