Steinfeldt to Evers To Chance

Religious celebrations of spring to the rear thank you. The true renewal of life, of faith, hope, and belief comes tonight.

The long winter of our admittedly smug contentedness is over. Tonight Jon Lester will throw the first pitch in anger since Madison Baumgarner coaxed a foul pop up into the glove of Pablo Sandoval on a near Halloween night in Kansas City.

Baseball has returned. Some things are right with the world.

Today every team is undefeated. Every player bats 1.000. Every pitcher has a 0.00 ERA. It is the only moment of perfection for a game predicated on the need for failure. It's a moment to stop and cherish before it whiffs into the ether.

That's one of the many reasons I love baseball. It's not just about the great ones. It's about the not so greats, the barely remembered,  the never remembered. The mediocres and the failures are as much a part of the mosaic of the game as the superstars. For every Buster Posey there is a Steve Decker. Actually there are more Steve Deckers than Buster Poseys. For every player celebrated in story and song there are hundreds who toiled in anonymity, remembered only by those who memorize the Baseball Encyclopedia.

It's doubtful you recognize any of the players in the photo below, but three of them are the most famous double play combination in the history of the game. Tinkers to Evers to Chance. The names dance across the tongue as nimbly as the men danced across the infield and through the poetry of Franklin Pierce Adams. So who's the guy on the far left? That's Harry Steinfeldt. The third baseman. I'd have to check, but he probably was involved in as many double plays as the other three. Ah, but his name didn't scan well and his stats were not as note worthy as the others. Still he hit .268 lifetime and played in four World Series (yes, I got out my Baseball Encyclopedia to check). Nowadays you'd get seven years and $140 million for that. Yeah I'm looking at you Pablo. Oh, and Steinfeldt holds a record that might be the very definition of journeyman ballplayer. He had three sacrifice flies in one game. That's a record that has stood since 1909. It ain't flashy, but it was what was needed at the time.

So as the season winds it's way through spring, summer, and into the fall, take a moment to appreciate the "other" guys. They are as part of any fan's memories as their more famous teammates.

Play Ball!