Devil Rays Give Baseball A Black Eye

Brawl With Boston Was Unnecessary

-- You know the old joke about going to a fight and a hockey game breaking out?

Well, Tuesday night in Tampa (actually, St. Petersburg if you're one of those picky types), the Mother Of All Hockey Games broke out during a baseball game between the Boston Red Sox and that storied old franchise, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

For those of you who didn't know that such an entity even existed on this planet, the Devil Rays are indeed a major league (and we use the term loosely) baseball team. They joined the league in 1998 as part of the owners' primary end-of-the-century initiative: to furiously stuff their pockets through expansion as the quality of the game erodes before our very eyes.

Before Tuesday, the Devil Rays' main contributions to the game had been the worst nickname in league history, the most hideous color combination since the Padres dumped their mustard yellow-n-roadkill brown togs, and a domed stadium that was obsolete before it hosted the team's first game.

Now we find out that a franchise that's been in existence all of three years has decided that it can play the game by its own rules.

In case you missed it Tuesday night, Gerald Williams was the first batter for the D-Rays against Boston's ace flamethrower, Pedro Martinez. Pedro, as he is apt to do, drilled Williams on the hand with a tight fastball.

Williams -- all hung up on gettin' respect and bein' a man and protectin' his livelihood -- responded the way most modern hitters do when they're upset about being hit by a pitch. He charged the mound. The resulting scrum was actually broken up more quickly than most, Williams was ejected, and it looked as if the game would continue as normal.

Except that somewhere down at the bottom of the pile, Red Sox first baseman Brian Daubach did something. After the game, nobody was willing to say exactly what transpired down there. But at one point in the squabble, Daubach was dragged out of the pack and subjected to screaming and shoving from Tampa's hulking closer, Roberto Hernandez.

The D-Rays decided they needed to retaliate by throwing at Daubach in his next at-bat. Fine -- anybody who understands the way the game is played at that level knows that if you drill a guy, you've made your statement and you move on.

But then it got really ugly. The Devil Rays evidently didn't get clued into the unwritten rules of the game when they joined the American League three years ago. Or perhaps they're so smug -- or clueless -- that they've decided to create their own set of rules. Either way, what happened next was inexcusable -- they continued to throw at Daubach.

After hitting him in the third inning, they threw at him in the fourth inning, and they threw at him in the seventh inning, and they probably would have thrown at him again in the ninth inning if Rico Brogna hadn't pinch-hit for him. Three pitchers and two coaches were ejected for their pursuit of Daubach. Manager Larry Rothschild was ejected for arguing that Martinez was not ejected when Williams was ejected.

But hey, that's just Devil Ray baseball.

In total, eight Tampa Bay players and coaches were excused from participating in the evening's main event, which turned into a near no-hitter for the game's best pitcher. Meanwhile, no Red Sox were banished, mainly because they kept their cool while the Devil Rays were acting their shoe sizes.

Of course, the Red Sox actually have a compelling reason to remain on the field -- they are in contention for both the A.L. Eastern Division title and the wild card spot. The Devil Rays were eliminated from the race before the final introductions were made on Opening Day, so they could afford to get caught up in what might be referred to in some parts as a urination contest. Or something like that.

After the game, Rothschild decided to focus his whining on Martinez. He cried that Pedro has walked only 27 batters this year and has hit 14, so that proves he intentionally hit Williams. No Larry, what it proves is that Pedro is one of the few pitchers in the majors with the guts to pitch inside. He understands that a pitcher needs to pitch inside to be successful, and if a hitter hangs over home plate and gets drilled from time to time, that's the price he's got to pay for trying to cover the entire plate.

Many D-Rays players, having been humiliated by Pedro's dominant pitching, thrust the spotlight back onto Daubach, who was accused of having taken a few "cheap shots" in the pile. They blamed him for escalating the fight by not serving as a peacemaker.

Daubach didn't just fall off the turnip truck yesterday. He understands that Pedro Martinez is his meal ticket, his Cy Young, shoulda-been-MVP who is the one player the Sox can least afford to lose if they want to play in October. And there he is at first base, watching a punk like Gerald Williams trying to tear the head off his guy.

Did the D-Rays expect him to politely tap Williams on the shoulder and say, "Pardon me Gerald, but if it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly remove your clenched fist from the vicinity of Mr. Martinez's facial region and return to your rightful spot in the dugout? Much obliged there, old man."

The bottom line is, if Gerald Williams didn't want to get smacked around in the pile, he shouldn't have created the pile in the first place. There are about 100 better ways to respond to a pitcher who has drilled you than to charge the mound. Here are just three to consider: