Sam Fuld's Catch

Now the clean-up man steps up. Our pitcher is sweating profusely. Licking his chops, with a man in scoring position, the slugger has him right where he wants him. The southpaw in the stretch, checks the runner at second, stares in at the hefty hitter on the right side...

We don't have SportsCenter out here in Copenhagen, so we haven't been smothered with images of great moments like this in an endless repetition without reflection, emptying the moment of its beauty and meaning.

With Manny gone, Damon looks to do the DH'ing as the Rays now turn to a defensively-strong outfield, relying on one particularly scrappy and unproven player:

Sam Fuld - RF
Tampa Bay Rays

Last night, the bases loaded with ChiSox and Juan "in a million" Pierre at the plate, something utterly amazing happened in the outfield. Smallish Sam Fuld was playing Pierre shallow in right. Pierre skillfully pulled the ball toward the deepest corner of right field. At Fuld speed, this dude sprints after the soaring drive with the dedication of a pit bull after a frisbee. In Fuld stride, he literally FLIES -- recklessly and freely -- headfirst onto the gravel warning track, glove and body Fuldy extended to retrieve the sure-thing triple... It lands perfectly in the pocket of his outstretched mitt, as he's gliding in midair. Sam lands and slides awesomely through the warning track, turning onto his side right up to the base of the wall - and stopping millimeters from it, like an expert stuntman.

Even the fat and rowdy beer guzzling Southside boys behind the fence couldn't help but show their aggressive admiration, as the diminutive Sam Fuld jogged joyfully back to the dugout, briefly checking his left elbow for marks, beaming with childlike pride. It was beautiful.

p.s. 4/12/11


After "the flight" he took to prevent an inside-the-park grand slam, Sam Fuld promptly robbed Dustin Pedroia of a double last night at Fenway with a great diving grab.

But that's not all.

He fucking roped a homer off Dice-K right around the Pesky pole - like a gritty old player of the deadball era. Then in his next at-bat blooped a pitch to left-center field and stretched it into a double with a hard head-first slide easily beating the tag. He then showed-up his defensive counterpart Ellsbury in the outfield by driving one deep over his head - but not out of reach - "giving him the chance to make a great play", as Jacob of the Bare-Knuckle Boxers put it.

As a grand finale, needing only a single for the cycle, he slices a line-drive to left that's hit too hard for Crawford to cut-off and excitedly, instinctually rounds the bag and glides into second for his second double and no cycle.

Who is this guy?

...the sign is for a fastball high and tight. The hurler nods in approval, comes set. And the pitch...the two-seamer sails on him...heading for the slugger's head...he jumps while turning away...and it beans him in the back.