With the bases loaded in the second inning of the Brewers-Marlins game and pitcher Carlos Villanueva at the plate, Brewers manager Ned Yost called for a suicide squeeze. This wouldn't normally be a big deal, it happens plenty. The Brewers hadn't scored in sixteen straight innings to that point, so getting a run was something they probably needed psychologically. The
good part is that the man on third base, Prince Fielder, weighs about 300 lbs and runs like a... I don't know, a train? We'll go with a freight train. The
great part is what happened next. Yost signals for the play, then third base coach Dale Sveum leans into Fielder's ear and whsipers "squeeze" Fielder jerks his head around and loudly replies "REALLY?" "I thought for sure he gave it away," Sveum would say after the game. The play went off without a hitch as Villanueva's bunt was a beauty and Fielder easily waddled home. But Prince, you can't respond out loud to play calls in baseball. That's like Ricky Henderson getting a steal sign then pointing down to second base, nodding, and yelling "Aww yeee. I got it." Shit, Rickey probably would have swiped that bag anyway.
He was just a bit full of himself. Or should I say Rickey was just a bit full of Rickey. Which brings me to the One Droo Hill official favorite Rickey Henderson story (wow this post did a 180, eh?): In the early '80s, the Oakland A’s accounting department couldn't figure out why the books were off $1 million and were freaking out. They had to give the whole franchise a self-audit. The accountants checked everything from stadium costs to concession revenues, then decided to interview every player. When they got around to Rickey Henderson, they found their answer. Instead of cashing a $1 million bonus check he had received from the A's, the modest Rickey Henderson had it framed and hung on a wall in his house. Rainy day fund?
With the bases loaded in the second inning of the Brewers-Marlins game and pitcher Carlos Villanueva at the plate, Brewers manager Ned Yost called for a suicide squeeze. This wouldn't normally be a big deal, it happens plenty. The Brewers hadn't scored in sixteen straight innings to that point, so getting a run was something they probably needed psychologically. The good part is that the man on third base, Prince Fielder, weighs about 300 lbs and runs like a... I don't know, a train? We'll go with a freight train. The great part is what happened next. Yost signals for the play, then third base coach Dale Sveum leans into Fielder's ear and whsipers "squeeze" Fielder jerks his head around and loudly replies "REALLY?" "I thought for sure he gave it away," Sveum would say after the game. The play went off without a hitch as Villanueva's bunt was a beauty and Fielder easily waddled home. But Prince, you can't respond out loud to play calls in baseball. That's like Ricky Henderson getting a steal sign then pointing down to second base, nodding, and yelling "Aww yeee. I got it." Shit, Rickey probably would have swiped that bag anyway. 
He was just a bit full of himself. Or should I say Rickey was just a bit full of Rickey. Which brings me to the One Droo Hill official favorite Rickey Henderson story (wow this post did a 180, eh?): In the early '80s, the Oakland A’s accounting department couldn't figure out why the books were off $1 million and were freaking out. They had to give the whole franchise a self-audit. The accountants checked everything from stadium costs to concession revenues, then decided to interview every player. When they got around to Rickey Henderson, they found their answer. Instead of cashing a $1 million bonus check he had received from the A's, the modest Rickey Henderson had it framed and hung on a wall in his house. Rainy day fund?
