If you haven’t been paying attention over the last two hours or so, the Dodgers rushing out to right field to celebrate in the Chase Field pool is about to become a thing. Like, a thing, with Willie Bloomquist whining about lack of class and Adam Eaton making veiled threats about what might come next year, even though the Diamondbacks did exactly the same thing in 2011, and Arizona sports radio already calling for “retaliation” and inexplicably bemoaning the Diamondbacks’ “lack of a hard-ass,” even though that’s exactly why guys like Bloomquist and Kirk Gibson exist and what trading Justin Upton was supposed to be about. Brandon McCarthy, as usual, remains awesome, though the Arizona Republic shirked any sense of decorum by hiding behind a nameless editorial.
But, whatever, you can’t really be surprised by any of this. You know that if Nick Punto and Skip Schumaker were Diamondbacks — and it’s at this point I’m wondering, “how have they never been Diamondbacks?” and “oh lord, they’re absolutely going to be Diamondbacks next year” — they’d be leading the “lack of respect” charge rather than jumping in the pool, because it’s what you do. If Dodger Stadium had some awful gaudy gimmick feature and an opposing team celebrated in it, we’d probably be unhappy too. I get it.
Frankly, though, I don’t care about any of that. But this tweet, from Arizona President and CEO (and former Dodger exec) Derrick Hall, in response to a fan asking how the Dodger players even made it out there, did catch my eye:
And this is fascinating to me on so many levels. Were there really supposed to be security guards barricading the Dodgers in the locker room? If so, what happened to them? Did the players manage to sneak around them? Did they just bumrush an old man in a rent-a-cop uniform? Does that make this A PRISON BREAK? If so, is it the slowest prison break of all time, led by Adrian Gonzalez‘ awkward gait?
But here, really, is the best part. I re-watched the broadcast, and a full SEVENTY-ONE SECONDS LATER…
…out comes Hyun-jin Ryu, slowly stumbling along to join his teammates before requiring help over the wall. It’s funny because he’s, ah… well, let’s just say he’s a good pitcher, one who might be starting Game 3 of the NLDS, and leave it at that. So did the security guards realize they misplaced, oh, half the team, thus allowing Ryu to sneak past? Is this part of some vast conspiracy? Or are the Diamondbacks just a bunch of crybabies who made a silly trade last winter, played poorly this year, had that awful episode when they forced Dodger fans to change clothes earlier this season, and employ known malcontents like Miguel Montero and Gerardo Parra? The world may never know.