When 17-year-old Danny Vinik arrived at the Red Sox play-off game Friday night, I doubt he was expecting that within a few hours every member of Red Sox Nation would know his name. Comparing Danny Vinik with Steve Bartman, however, is a contrast between the words famous and infamous.
In case you don’t recall, Steve Bartman was the Chicago Cubs fan who reached for a foul ball in game 6 of the 2003 National League Championship Series and succeeded only in knocking the ball away from Cubs outfielder Moises Alou, with Chicago just five outs away from the World Series. It is highly likely that Alou would have caught the ball for the second out of the inning had Bartman not interfered. Instead, the Florida Marlins went on to score 8 runs that inning, and the Cubs could not recover emotionally in Game 7. Although Steve Bartman–a life-time Cubs fan–did not cause Alex Gonzales’s highly costly error a few moments later on a ground ball that should have resulted in an inning-ending double-play, and Bartman himself did not permit 8 runs to score that inning, and Bartman certainly did not cause the Cubs to fall apart in Game 7 the next night, and never mind the fact that many other fans around him also were reaching for that foul ball, his interference did play into the outcome of the game.
The foul ball off Manny Ramirez’s bat that Danny Vinik caught on Friday night also prevented a second out. Anaheim catcher Jeff Mathis not only would have had the ball, but the images and replay suggest that Vinik practically took the ball out of Mathis glove. Ramirez ended up walking to load the bases, and the Red Sox tied the game moments later on Mike Lowell’s sacrifice fly–a hit that would have been the third out but for Vinik.
Bartman was given a police escort from Wrigley field that night in 2003, with boos, threats, drink cups, and food items showering down on him from his fellow Cub fans. Vinik, by contrast, was congratulated by all the fans around him, including Stephen King, who sat two rows behind him, and has received a tremendous amount of positive attention from the press. Bartman left the game broken-hearted. Vinik will get a heart-swelling thrill each time he looks at that baseball, which I’m sure he will keep forever.
Although Mathis was visibly angry after Vinik caught the ball just over his waiting glove, he knew there was not much he could say about it. The rule is pretty simple: if a fan reaches into the field of play and catches or touches the ball, it is fan interference; if the ball goes into the stands, however, the fans have as much right to the ball as the players.
Compare either of these plays to the catch made by Jeff Maier that helped the New York Yankees beat the Baltimore Orioles in the 1996 American League Championship Series. Maier actually reached into the field of play and caught a ball that was incorrectly ruled a home run. In that case, fan interference should have been called.
It would appear, however, the rule on fan interference is not universally accepted. A relative of mine (who happens to be a hopeless Cub fan) called the Vinik play an “immense shame” and a “travesty,” adding: “If the Boston fans are exulting, they should be ashamed of themselves. It’s consistent with our ‘win at any cost’ philosophy as a society.”
Frankly, I doubt even the Angels would agree with this. Their catcher Mathis called it a “good play.” “Those guys,” he said, “they’re good fans, and they’re always paying attention.” And Angels manager Mike Scioscia said, “when you’re reaching in there, all bets are off.”
Win at any cost? A bit of an overstatement, methinks. It’s not like the Red Sox unleashed a billion bugs, as the Cleveland Indians apparently did to thwart the New York Yankees.
It’s impossible to know what would have happened had Vinik not caught that ball. Lowell may have swung the bat differently had there been two outs, and anything could have happened over the next four innings. But it’s clear that Vinik did cause that moment of the game to change. Still, in 2003, we did not complain about the rules–we blamed Bartman for not thinking. And I must say, this Red Sox fan is certainly not ashamed of himself for being thrilled with Vinik’s catch. The fans are part of the game–any player will tell you that.
In four years, I’ll buy Vinik a drink.
October 8th, 2007 at 2:18 pm
I caught a foul ball off of Paul Molitor that didn’t have an effect on the game, but I’m quite sure it had a positive effect on the rest of the little boy’s life whose face was about to get smashed if I hadn’t reached out and gloved it. That was undoubtedly even more important than the game was, though I never became famous for it.
My most famous catch, however, which practically everyone in the country (who is old enough) can remember even though I received no personal notoriety for it, was the infamous bat that Ozzy Osbourne supposedly bit the head off of at a Des Moines rock concert in 1981. He threw it at me specifically stating it was a curse being placed on me for not clapping my hands. I was standing in the second row, apparently the only one NOT complying when he made the request, “Everybody Clap Your F***ing Hands!”. And, just for the record, it’s head was still intact.