Pivot Physics

To stay out of harm's way while turning two, infielders also can resort to cheating, otherwise known as the neighborhood play, in which they're in the neighborhood of second base but not touching it. "I never do it," Larkin says. "I take pride in always touching the base, no matter what."

"Well," Reese says sheepishly, "sometimes an umpire will say, 'Hey, give me a better touch next time.' They'll give you a warning if you push it too far."

Another countermeasure for infielders is throwing sidearm or even submarine style to force the runner to slide quickly for self-preservation. Former shortstop Cal Ripken Jr., now a third baseman for the Baltimore Orioles, says shortstops often throw this way only to save precious time after catching a low feed. Larkin says, however, that for shortstops and second basemen, low-bridging aggressive runners is sometimes necessary.

Randolph agrees, recalling, "My first year with the Yankees, Reggie Jackson [then with the Orioles] was on first base, and he was yelling at me, 'Get ready, rook! I'm coming after you.' Sure enough, there's a ground ball to short, and I rush over to the bag. I can hear Reggie coming. He's grunting and huffing and puffing like a freight train. I took the ball and dropped down real low, aiming right between his eyes. He got down just in time. We got the double play, and as I was running off the field, I looked back at Reggie. He looked at me and kind of nodded his head like, Yeah, you've got my respect, kid."

The shortstop has an easier task than the second baseman. He can see the runner and gauge the runner's speed and intentions as he turns two. "The key is to get to the base on time," Larkin says. "Then you react to the runner and where the ball is."

Most shortstops like the feed from the second baseman near the right side of their chest, which gets them into a throwing position more quickly. Vizquel, however, likes the ball toward the outfield side of second base, at his glove hand. That keeps him out of the direct line of the base path and triggers a rhythm with his hands as he gets into throwing position.

Given enough time, most shortstops will cross the bag on a safe path toward rightfield as they turn two. However, when a runner is close enough to threaten harm, shortstops choose different styles. Small, athletic ones like Vizquel and Rey Ordonez of the Mets follow the style of Ozzie Smith, the alltime leader in double plays by a shortstop (1,590), by jumping over the runner, sometimes while releasing the ball. Vizquel can make a strong throw while catapulting himself off the bag with either his left or even his right foot, which is the so-called wrong foot for a righthanded thrower. "It's simple," he says. "If a guy is coming at my right side, I'll go off my left foot. If he's at my left side, I'll go off my right foot. I don't have to think about it. I just react."

Texas Rangers shortstop Alex Rodriguez, though, jumps much less frequently than most of his position mates. At 6'3" and 210 pounds, he welcomes contact. He has styled himself after Ripken, the prototype for the big shortstop at 6'4" and 220 pounds. At the 1998 All-Star Game, Rodriguez asked Ripken for tips on turning two. Ripken showed him how to use the base as protection while holding ground, like a quarterback in the pocket. "There are times when I'll jump, but the way I look at it, the runner doesn't want me falling on him because of my size," says Rodriguez, who as a Mariner led all big league shortstops with 123 double plays last year. "Chances are he's going to get hurt more than I am. So a lot of times I don't feel I must get out of the way."

By contrast, a second baseman presents an inviting and virtually defenseless target. Reese, a converted shortstop, says he has been hit hard several times. He relies on Larkin's knowledge of runners—their speed, aggressiveness and appetite for contact-conveyed before and during the game to help him estimate how much time he has to get rid of the ball.

"I don't want to say guys today have it easy, but not as many guys will come in as hard as they did years ago," Randolph says. " Dave Winfield, Don Baylor, Hal McRae, Paul Molitor, Robin Yount—so many guys would come in real hard, wanting to take you out. When Albert Belle was suspended [in 1996] for hitting [then Milwaukee Brewers second baseman] Fernando Vi�a, it was only because people don't do that much anymore."