Premiere danseur of the Boston Red Sox Jose Iglesias hit a hot shot off the Green Monster, and he must have thought the ball had gone to Kenmore Square. He went to Detroit not too long after hitting it.
He began chugging around first base like there was a firecracker tied to his tail. He was choreographing on the run.
However, a funny thing happened on the way to second base: the ball was there waiting for him. Later in the night, so was a trade to another team. Never has a base running path ended up so costly.
Making like Nijinsky doing his dance from Spectre de la Rose at the Mariinsky Theatre for the Ballets Russes, Iggy jumped to the wall side of second base with his semi-slide, avoiding the tag.
He made a reach in to find the bag, but the shortstop blocked him as if he were protecting Tom Brady who was playing without a tutu.
In a sudden change of heart, Iglesias jumped up and started back toward first base, clearly of the mind he should recover his originally intended spot on the field.
Surprised that he had pirouetted out of several tags, the Mariner infield tried to pickle him in a run-down, but he avoided the first baseman’s tag and headed back to the base of choice.
Alas, with the crowd now going out of their minds, he met a tag without a sale price. He was out and had to race back to the dugout faster than he ran to second. The afternoon of the faun was over.
An unsmiling manager, John Dudley-Do-Right Farrell was not a happy camper, but the other players in the dugout clearly had fun with the scampering third baseman who made a gaffe that would be unacceptable as one of the rites of spring training.
Jose himself was morose to the jibes of his teammates and the bonhomie he won from the fans. Within an hour he was dog meat in a tutu himself. We will miss Iggy’s personal pop.