The " Bobble Out."

After the injury to Fowler, I vowed never to watch another yankee game until he returned, and at 100%.

The sad truth is, speed was his game and he will never have that speed again.

The guy who was never thrown out when he had a chance to steal second, might now be like a fully loaded beer truck, firing out from a stop light, on a steep incline in the Rocky Mountains.  Naturally, I hope to be humiliated when I am reminded of this statement.  I saw what happened to Mantle who, at least, still had power.

But that is the likely tragedy of Fowler's injury.  A Rickey Henderson level threat, and career, may just not ever happen.  Slade Heathcott comes to mind, albeit for slightly different reasons.  And it makes me sick.

As many of you know, all of this horror ( including the reason Fowler was no longer at Scranton), like an Agatha Christie novel, can be traced back to Greg Bird's original lie.  The added irony of Chris Carter's return, the ghostly aspect of it, caused me to disavow myself and turn on Houston TV.

The return of Chris Carter was like turning back a clock.  It proves that periods of time, in his case five days ( I think), can be made, " not to have existed."  He is what remains from Greg Bird's deception, and he cannot be made to disappear.  It is classic "Twilight Zone," material.  He left, he returned, and nothing changed.  Everything evaporated into the ether.

Chris Carter was a spotlight player last night.  A man whose talent departed some number of years ago, still functions as a major league Yankee.  He will always strike out at key moments.  But he drove in runs yesterday and scored from second on a single.

My favorite play from him last night, however, and the inspiration for this essay, was his critical "bobble out,"  which got the Yankees and Pineda ( an unsuspecting participant ) out of a dangerous situation.  There were baserunners everywhere, the crowd was buzzing, and Pineda had wrangled two outs, but was clearly on the edge of losing it.

After about a 14 pitch at bat, Pineda induces a routine, but relatively slow ground ball to first.  Carter charges it while Pineda, rightly, sprints from the mound toward first in the event Carter can't get there before the runner.  Carter bobbles the ball forward, a sure run-scoring error in the making, but the ball pops straight into the sprinting Pineda's glove.

With a balletic grace not before seen from this pitcher, Pineda takes the bobbled grounder and touches the bag, not with his foot, but with his glove.  A major " bend and reach" move.

It was a thing a beauty.  A play to be remembered.  It never happened before.

Not during the five days which never existed.

And the impact on us is, "We are all five days younger than we were when we woke up yesterday."

You can't predict baseball.