| projo.com | The Providence Journal |

	August 30, 2000

The quote of the day was from the (on-field) villain of the night, John Flaherty: "I'm not proud to stand here and say I was part of that game."

You shouldn't be, Flash (even though I doubt you had much to do with it). Nor should anyone in a Tampa Bay uniform. What transpired last night at Tropicana Field was an absolute disgrace, an embarrassment to the game of baseball, and every ounce of blame can be laid at the feet of Larry Rothschild, Gerald Williams and any other Devil Ray who used Pedro Martinez's fourth pitch of the game as an excuse to wage three hours of off-the-charts mayhem.

First things first. I have no idea whether or not Martinez hit Williams on purpose. He said he didn't -- though what else would he say? -- and the panel of talking-head experts across the airwaves could reach no consensus. Jerry Remy, probably the closest to the situation, said on NESN that he had no doubt Martinez deliberately was throwing inside and "may" have targeted Williams as a message to the Devil Rays -- against whom he's had a surprising lack of success the last two years -- that last night would be different. On ESPN, Buck Martinez said he couldn't tell if the pitch was intentional. On FOX, old friend Kevin Kennedy flatly said it wasn't. As I consider all this, one thought shoots out: Seems strange the Devil Rays could find no sympathy beyond the walls of their clubhouse for something they considered to be a beyond-any-shadow-of-a-doubt piece of headhunting, doesn't it?

But, for the sake of argument, let's assume they're right. Let's assume Pedro Martinez meant to hit Gerald Williams. Let's assume retaliation was in order.

They were given two free shots -- shots they should have been punished for, but weren't -- at Brian Daubach in the third inning. (I say "should have been punished for" because both benches had been warned against further incidents; the umpire is required, by law, to eject both the pitcher and the manager when someone is thrown at deliberately after a warning.) Dave Eiland threw a pitch at Daubach's head -- at his head -- that missed; then he hit him with a pitch near his midsection. Nothing happened. No one was tossed, no one was warned . . . nothing.

Carl Everett followed with a double. With first base open, Eiland plunked Nomar Garciaparra with the first pitch. That was when he and the first of the Devil Rays' interim managers -- I guess it was Bill Russell -- were given the heave-ho.

So now the Devil Rays have hit both Daubach and Garciaparra; they also threw a pitch at Daubach's head that missed. If you follow the Don Drysdale maxim that "For every one of our guys that you hit, I'll hit two of yours", the score should have been settled.

But in the seventh, Corey Lidle threw a pitch behind Daubach. Plate umpire Phil Cuzzi, who was extraordinarily slow on the uptake all night -- he didn't eject Eiland after the two pitches thrown at Daubach in the third -- made no motion, which brought Jimy Williams out of the dugout. It was left to the crew chief, Tim McClelland, to throw out Lidle and the manager du minute, Jose Cardenal. When play resumed, new pitcher Tony Fiore hit Daubach again. And that started the second of the bench-clearing festivities.

Rothschild would later explain the Rays kept throwing at Daubach because a) they were angry about what they claim were "cheap shots" that Daubach threw during the first fight, and b) "we kept missing him."

Missing him? You hit him twice, after you threw at his head! And how does that explain Garciaparra, who also was hit?

For whatever Martinez allegedly did or didn't do, the whole mess should have stopped after Daubach was hit the first time. But the Devil Rays then hit Garciaparra, threw at Daubach again, and hit him again. Nothing -- and I mean nothing -- justified any of that.

I've seen games like this before, most notably the famous Atlanta-San Diego brawl of 1984 where the Padres had three pitchers ejected for attempting to nail Pascual Perez after Perez had hit Alan Wiggins leading off the game. That was another all-night affair because the Padres just couldn't hit Perez; they'd throw at him, he'd sprint (literally) out of the batter's box, the pitch would miss him, and the umpires would toss the San Diego pitcher. It wasn't until the eighth that they finally got him; as I recall, it was a curveball that followed Perez out of the box and clunked him right in the buttocks. (And then the Joe Torre-managed Braves reignited the fire by hitting Graig Nettles in the top of the ninth. When Torre tried to level blame at the Padres for the whole thing, San Diego manager Dick Williams responded: "Tell Joe Torre to stick that finger he's pointing.") As crazy as it was, it was understandable: Until the Padres hit Perez, they didn't consider the matter closed. In the law of the baseball jungle, it made sense.

This wasn't like that. The Devil Rays had their revenge when they hit Daubach. But, like the Energizer Bunny, they kept going and going and going.

(And by the way, just because I'm willing to assume, for the sake of the argument, that Martinez meant to hit Williams doesn't mean I believe it. When he deliberately hits guys he hits them low, the way he drilled Roberto Alomar. When he comes up and in, he's generally just looking to move people off the plate.)

I know I'm partisan and I know I might not be the best person to rationally discuss this. But I can't read it any other way. As a baseball fan, I was appalled -- and enraged -- at the Devil Rays' actions last night. I'm probably enraged because it was my team they were targeting, but I feel confident in saying I would have been appalled no matter who they were playing.

I was grateful Martinez didn't retaliate (not to mention a little amazed), but I know it was difficult for him and I know the temptation to renew hostilities tonight will be overwhelming. The Sox have to resist. Every game is important from here on in, and they can't afford even the risk of a suspension or a brawl-related injury. (As it is, last night may have been costly enough: Daubach's elbow may very well be broken, and Lou Merloni has a concussion. Lest you forget, it was a concussion that ended Mark Lemke's career in Boston.) Let's hope they show the same restraint tonight as they did last night . . . though, to be honest, I doubt they will. The Devil Rays were just too blatant, and there'll be no no-hitter to protect.

And if it starts up again tonight, I'm sure Larry Rothschild will be the very definition of indignation. Just as he was last night.

Um, Larry? There's a 16-year-old quote from Dick Williams that applies directly to you.

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