The Early Shift: Gunned Down

Kiyoshi Mio-Imagn Images Hello. While on paternity leave, I kept a journal about baseball and my daughter, who is not named Derek Jr., but who will henceforth be referred to as Derek Jr. You can read all of the entries here. May 21 So Jose Siri made the coolest play I’ve seen in a while. He’s on the Angels now, a fact I had missed entirely, even though I now realize I saw him pinch-running against the A’s just two nights ago. When you think about Jose Siri, you think of great center field defense (and one million strikeouts), but that great center field defense usually comes in the form of great jumps and fantastic athletic catches. Tonight, however, he racked up an out with a combination of savvy and a perfect, powerful throw. A’s right fielder Carlos Cortes hit a routine single back up the middle. There was nothing notable about that whatsoever, but the Angels must have a scouting report that says Cortes likes to take aggressive turns when he singles. Whoever wrote it deserves a raise. Siri played the ball normally right up until the moment when he didn’t. He intercepted it at a slow jog. It looked like he wasn’t taking the threat of Cortes going for a double seriously, but what he was actually doing was baiting Cortes, while also allowing the slow route to let him field the ball with his momentum still pushing him to his left, toward first base. That way, when he came up firing behind Cortes, he was able to got everything he had behind the throw. First baseman Nolan Schanuel was clearly in on it too. He lurked in foul territory, out of view of both Cortes and the first base coach so as to avoid arousing any suspicion, then popped back onto the field in time to catch the throw and apply the tag. The best part, though, is Siri’s studied nonchalance. I loved the way going after the ball so casually allowed him to actually get a better angle for the throw, but his commitment to the bit was so thorough. He kept his eyes trained at the ground for a moment longer than he had to, just so that Cortes wouldn’t think he was peeking at first. And even when he did look up, he did everything he could to play it cool. Look at this still frame. You Aren't a FanGraphs Member It looks like you aren't yet a FanGraphs Member (or aren't logged in). We aren't mad, just disappointed. We get it. You want to read this article. But before we let you get back to it, we'd like to point out a few of the good reasons why you should become a Member. 1. Ad Free viewing! We won't bug you with this ad, or any other. 2. Unlimited articles! Non-Members only get to read 10 free articles a month. Members never get cut off. 3. Dark mode and Classic mode! 4. Custom player page dashboards! Choose the player cards you want, in the order you want them. 5. One-click data exports! Export our projections and leaderboards for your personal projects. 6. Remove the photos on the home page! 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This is not just a highlight. It’s an awards reel for Best Actor. That’s not the big news, though. Here’s the big news: Derek Jr. has started smiling. I thought that maybe, just maybe, she was smiling over the past few days, but it’s not always easy to tell. Babies often look like they’re smiling when they’re going to the bathroom or about to go to the bathroom. Sometimes they just make faces. But now I can confirm that those were indeed warm-up smiles, because today it’s game time and she is smiling up a storm. She is beaming. If you catch her while she’s alert and feeling social, sometimes she’ll have this crooked little grin at the corner of her mouth. I can’t help but smile back, and when I do that, look out. Her whole face lights up with a giant, open-mouthed, 10,000-watt, 0-tooth smile. Her eyes sparkle. It’s magical. It does something to your soul. This afternoon my wife captured a video of my daughter and I going back and forth exchanging smiles. I beam down at Derek Jr. and give her a playful little pat on the cheek or the nose with the pad of my index finger, which makes her smile a little. I can’t contain myself. Every time she smiles I erupt into laughter, which causes her to unleash another, bigger smile. “Oh Derek, you’re breaking my heart,” I gush at the end. Smartphones have changed us for the worse in a lot of ways over the last couple decades, but man is it special to have a video of the first time in her entire life that you get to play with your daughter and she can play back. May 22 She laughs! My baby laughs. She started officially smiling yesterday, and today she laughs. Tomorrow she’ll be calculating win probability. Derek Jr. was in a smiling mood this afternoon, and I discovered that if I held up my fingers for her to see, brought them in very slowly so her eyes could track them, then gave her a little tickle on the cheeks while making high-pitched robot beeps, she’d give a big old grin and let out this short little joyful noise. It’s not a long laugh. It’s more like the very first syllable of a laugh. But it counts. It counts! You should see the way her eyes light up and the corners of her mouth curl. She’s asleep right now and I’m catching the last couple innings of the Twins-Red Sox game. Up 7-6 in the eighth inning, the Twins are playing for one insurance run. Luke Keaschall is on first with no outs, and they’ve got the bunt-and-run on for Alex Jackson. Jackson announces as clearly as he can that he’s not up for the challenge of laying down a bunt. He does so by popping his first attempt into foul territory, just out of reach of the catcher. This is where you think better of things and call off the bunt, unless you’re Twins manager Derek Shelton. The tentative Jackson takes the next pitch, a fastball off the plate. The location, high and to catcher Carlos Narváez’s arm side, allows him to catch the ball and come up firing in one motion. Keaschall is completely hung out to dry. Narváez guns him down easily, and just like that, the Twins have gone from playing for one run to playing for no runs. Jackson grounds out, Byron Buxton does the same, and the inning is over. Keaschall makes an error in the bottom of the inning, too. It’s been a rough 10 minutes for the kid. [Update from the future: The robot beeps have stuck. Two months later, making high-pitched beeping noises is still my highest-probability move for eliciting a laugh. My daughter could not care less about what my voice normally sounds like. She prefers me when I’m R2-D2.] Rhymes I Recite to My Daughter, in Ascending Order of How Embarrassing They Are: Rhyme: Comfy-cozy, Buster Posey. Context: Convincing an infant that being buckled into a car seat, is not, in fact, the ninth circle of Hell. Embarrassment Level: 0%. Notes: I stand by this one all the way. It’s the new “Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy,” and the t-shirt sales alone are going to put Derek Jr. through college. [Update from the future: Damn it, Buster Posey. I guess Derek Jr. is going to a state school.] Rhyme: You gotta burp it before you slurp it. Context: Encouraging an infant to understand, long before they’re capable of understanding it, that if they desire continued nutriment, the only way out of this back-pounding burp situation is through. Embarrassment Level: 25%. Notes: I mean, it’s true. Rhyme: We’re gonna kick these hiccs. Context: Affirming a creature wracked by diaphragmatic spasms. Embarrassment Level: 45%. Notes: Hey, at least it’s got active verbs. Rhyme: This gas shall pass. Context: Using a bout of gastrointestinal distress to instill in the next generation one of life’s most important lessons: You have felt this way before. You will feel this way again. But you will not feel this way forever. Embarrassment Level: 60%. Notes: Am I Gandalf? Am I a Hallmark card expressing condolences for the death of a beloved pet? No, I am just a nerd. Rhyme: Derek, you are beautiful / Derek, you are dutiful / Derek, you have got this world / wrapped around your cuticle. Context: Singing to an infant for no reason in particular other than she’s your moon and stars, and she brings you so much joy that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. Embarrassment Level: 80%. Notes: I have devoted a significant portion of my life to songwriting, so let me say this plainly: This song sucks. It is maybe the worst song I have ever written. The melody is trite. The sentiment? Also trite. Also, it’s a lie. Derek Jr. is not dutiful. She is a baby. She has no sense of duty whatsoever. She’s never seen The Pirates of Penzance or H.M.S. Pinafore. She just lays there. Also, can you really use cuticle as a metonym for finger? I don’t think you can. I’m stretching a cliché for the purpose of a rhyme, an offense that I would never excuse in a better song. Also, no wait, yeah, that was the last also. Rhyme: First we wipe ‘er, then we diaper. Context: Just making conversation while you hold a baby’s legs up in the air by the ankles and exorcise her demons. Embarrassment Level: 100% Notes: What have I become?