Sunday, August 05, 2012

Observations From Tonight's Bulls-Braves Game


  • The Bulls are a terrible baserunning team. There were three separate instances of TOOTBLAN, with the best one being Stephen Vogt just beating a terrible throw to second on a double, then oversliding the bag, then betting tagged out as he tried to scrabble back. If you don't have a lot of offensive thunder - and the Bulls, like most of NC, are in a year-long drought - then throwing away outs in the bases is insanity. Throwing away an inning's worth...
  • Julio Teheran's arsenal is impressive, especially on the rare occasion he knows where it's going. Gwinnett catcher Jose Yepez spent a good chunk of the night sprawled out or leaping to his feet to corral errant pitches.
  • Every time I looked up, it seemed like Josh Kroeger was coming up to bat.
  • Watching a Gwinnett lineup that featured Terry Tiffee and Felix Pie made it feel oddly like the tail end of a fantasy baseball draft set in 2006.
  • Braves shortstop Jack Wilson - yes, THAT Jack Wilson - was replaced late in the game by shortstop Josh Wilson. I am imagining a Highlander-esque scenario where Jack, who is actually immortal, fakes his own death and is replaced by his "nephew", another good-fielding, slap-hitting middle infielder whom reporters can safely describe as "scrappy". 
  • Tim Beckham's OBP is much higher than one might expect, given the way he was determinedly lunging at things tonight. No strikeouts, but not a lot of solid contact, either.
  • The big attraction tonight was rehabbing Ray Evan Langoria sitting in with the band at DH. He was clearly just trying to work the rust off at the plate without reinjuring himself, however. No hits, though there was a popup to shallow center that endangered aircraft on approach to RDU.
  • Both starters went six innings, and survived rough early innings to get there.
  • Not much to see fielding-wise, apart from your standard 5-3-9-2 putout (E5)
  • There is no finer sight in minor league baseball than watching Wool E. Bull get stampeded across the outfield at the DBAP by a horde of shrieking small children who, presumably, have just been told where short ribs and burgers come from.
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