Watching Tuesday’s Red Sox/Tigers brawl, in which the two pugilists engaged in a tussle more akin to something you’d see on “So You Think You Can Dance” than in the UFC Octagon, got me to thinking: Is there any sport in which would-be brawlers do a worse job of defending their teammates and/or honor than in baseball? The answer, until badminton thugs stop beating each other bloody, is “hell, no.” After some investigation, we’ve identified the game’s worst/wussiest offenders.

Robin Ventura, Chicago White Sox

Back story: After finding his torso on the receiving end of a Nolan Ryan heater, Ventura threw caution (and crusty-veteran deference) to the wind and rushed the mound. What happened next was so memorable that fans commemorated its 15th anniversary last week.

Technique: Run toward the mound. Find yourself in headlock. Absorb 19 punches in four seconds. Wonder how it came to this.

Tips: Never underestimate your foe. Ryan wasn’t pitching like a 46-year-old; why would Ventura assume that he’d scuffle like one?

Armando Benitez, Baltimore Orioles

Back story: Before he gained renown for his ability to surrender even the most insurmountable of late-game leads, Benitez was a bullet-armed eighth-inning guy for the Baltimore Orioles. In 1998, after serving up a three-run homer to Bernie Williams, he planted his next 98-MPH pitch between Tino Martinez’s shoulder blades. Mayhem ensued.

Technique: After an initial you-lookin’-at-me? staredown, running away with alacrity from anything pinstriped.

Tips: Rather than sprinting around the infield willy-nilly, Benitez should’ve made for either the clubhouse or the hills. Even his teammates were less than pleased with the blatant “if I go down, you’re coming with me” retaliation.


Juan Marichal, San Francisco Giants [Click for photo]

Back story: Back in the summer of ’65, when the Giants and Dodgers hated each other with the blue-hot intensity of a thousand toast-r-ovens, Marichal brushed back a handful of Dodgers. Dodger hurler Sandy Koufax wouldn’t return the favor, but his catcher had other ideas: When Marichal came up to bat, John Roseboro damn near took off the pitcher’s ear with his return throws. Marichal responded in kind.

Technique: Bonking his foe on the head with a bat, hard enough to draw a healthy stream of blood. This precipitated a 15-minute-long riot which, amazingly, did not require mobilization of the National Guard.

Tips: Marichal needs to trade in his wooden implements for a balled fist. It ain’t a fair fight when one guy is carrying a hunk of wood and the other is armed with a leather receptacle.

Kevin Youkilis, Boston Red Sox
Back story: A Red Sox guy threw at a Tiger guy. A Tiger guy threw at a Red Sox guy. Youkilis, being the Red Sox guy, took this personally.

Technique: Head-of-steam charge mound-ward. Push-flail at the head of his foe, Detroit pitcher Rick Porcello. Fall.

Tips: When rushing the mound, rush it slowly – think a crisp stride on a fall afternoon, not a Black Friday dash down aisle three to get one of the six cheap big-screen TVs. If you’re moving at full speed, any nudge, shove or deke will land you on your keester, mister.

Jose Canseco, literary bard

Back story: Few of Canseco’s brawls took place on the ballfield; he was more likely to scrap with random clubgoers or wives/girlfriends. Nonetheless, long after he squandered his baseball fortune, Canseco started getting his ass kicked with impressive regularity. He’s the lapsed jock most likely to sacrifice whatever little’s left of his frontal cortex for a few shekels, and watching him get whupped is one of sports’ great unfettered joys.

Technique: Unleash wild kicks. Keep moving. Once tagged, tap until the ref offers shelter from the punchstorm.

Tips: Don’t fight anybody with twice your reach. If you must, strive to take out the dude’s legs or perhaps pull a Three Stooges (read: comically overstated eye-poke).

Alex Rodriguez

Back story: In the fateful year of 2004 (a.k.a. “the one in which the 98-pound string bean finally grew a pair and kicked some sand back at the bully”), A-Rod started jawing with Boston catcher Jason Varitek after being plunked by Bronson “Brandon” Arroyo. For his efforts, he was rewarded with a mouthful of mitt, which touched off a brawl that saw Pedro Martinez shove 90-something Yankee coach Don Zimmer to the ground.

Technique: Lots of cursing. When A-Rod starts throwing haymakers, they’re of the man-flails-at-invisible-assailant variety.

Tips: Less talk, more rock. A-Rod also oughta work on his basepath-clearing technique, as witnessed by the infamous Slappy-McSlapRod incident during the playoffs that year. I mean, really. Just lower a shoulder and knock the dude into next week. It’s all legal.

Kason Gabbard

Back story: Mariners’ giant Richie Sexson was having a bad week: his team was stinking up the joint and his child was sick. So he reacted to Gabbard’s inside heater – nobody’s idea of a statement pitch – as if Gabbard had littered on his grandmother’s grave.

Technique: None. Even before Sexson hurls his helmet in advance of his arrival, Gabbard assumes a pose of deep supplication – as if he were preparing to pray rather than tussle. His mouth says, “No”; his body language says, “Oh, heavens to Betsy, no.” Leave the fetal curls to the fetuses, will ya?

Tips: Duck and roll! Duck and roll!