Philosophical Bunting

We must think about the bunt as if it is a plunger.

We do not want to use the plunger. If we plan accordingly and make wise decisions, we should not have to. However, we are all human; at some point, the wisest course of action is simply to pick the dang thing up and get it over with.

In the same way, we do not wish to bunt. We do not want to be stuck in a tie game in the bottom of the ninth. It is nice that there are runners on first and second with no outs, but if only we hadn’t made that error/slipped around second/volleyed a fly ball over the wall, we wouldn’t be here.

We do not want to square up. We wish to swing freely, seeking hard contact and long drives. We want to tell coach to eat certain bits of his anatomy.

Alas, we must think about the bunt as if it is a cruel necessity; the path of least resistance to the goal we must achieve. It is not likely that the infield will overflow into a triple play, but it is best that we avoid that mess altogether.

And so we must bunt, and bunt with passion. Audacity. Grit.

But most importantly, restraint. For he who bunts when it is neither called for nor sneaky is a fool.