I was watching a close play at first where the runner barely got back to base on a pick off attempt. As so often happens, the runner is still face down in the dirt while the first baseman tosses the ball back to the pitcher.
Could he pretend to throw the ball, retain it and tag out the runner when he stood up? Or toss it to the second baseman and then have it thrown back which the runner would not be looking for?
I’m sure a resounding “Booo” would ring out, but is it against regulations?
Dennis
That’s called the Hidden Ball Trick and it’s completely legal.
Just happened a few days ago:
While the hidden ball trick is legal, note that the pitcher cannot play along with it to the point of going up onto the mound (Rule 6.02(a)(9.) So in the case where Frazier was caught by Ryan Goins, the pitcher, Marco Estrada was still off the mound. He he gone up the mound and pretend to have the ball while hovering over the rubber, that would actually be a balk, even though Goins would have had the ball.
Consequently, the cardinal rule taught to runners is that you do not leave the base until the pitcher is atop the pitcher’s mound. If you watch baserunners they’re generally VERY careful to maintain contact with the bag until the next play is actually ready to commence. Once the pitcher has assumed his place on the mound, the hidden ball trick is a balk, by definition, and you can’t be caught by it. Frazier committed an amateurish mistake.
Amazing how often it succeeds (or not). A whole team may be in on the deke, everyone follows the flight of the imaginary ball with there eyes, fielders head back to their benches, the players in the dugout may be in on it. The defense has to be alert for this, the runner shouldn’t, but may take a cue from one of his teammates if they act like the play is over.
A similar play is a fake wild throw or missed catch. The offense acts like the baseman was over thrown and he turns to run after the ball while his teammates point at where it’s supposed to be, the runner gets up to try to take the next base, and is easily tagged or thrown out. This kind of stuff is great baseball.
Here’s exactly that version.
Sweet! I guess I’m not the only devious person around.
Dennis
Actually it’s called the ol’ hidden ball trick 
mmm
Thanks for this. I never knew this rule and now it makes more sense as to why this doesn’t happen more often.
A compilation of hidden ball plays.
Whatever you do, don’t throw a potato.
I’m surprised at how many of those are at first and third, with a coach standing right there. Shouldn’t the coach see that the ball has not gone back to the pitcher and tell the runner? I’m guessing that the coach is as oblivious as the base runner.
Interesting. I didn’t know about the mound and balk aspect. I played a ton of softball as a kid, where you aren’t allowed to lead off, so this never came up.
If you think about it the rule is absolutely necessary, or runners could never lead off. Logically it would make sense to attempt the trick on almost every pitch, to prevent runners from leading.
Although most of the handy videos of it working in MLB are recent, my honest impression, from reading the literature, is that the hidden ball trick was much more commonly used in the past. This might not be a popular opinion, but it’s difficult to argue with; baseball players are MUCH more fundamentally sound than they used to be, in almost every respect. Babe Ruth was coached by brother volunteers from the (rather nice) orphanage he grew up in; in the past kids were sometimes barely coached at all, and just learned from older players as they went. Today’s players are almost universally products of highly advanced developmental programs. They play girls’ fastball games across the street from my house with coaching that is quite obviously more advanced, formal and professional than I got playing senior (ages up to 16) league ball. In the past “you aren’t safe until the pitcher steps on the the mound” might be something you learned the hard way in the Pacific League. Now it’s drilled into you when you’re ten.
I’m pretty sure some of my coaches were guys who had to serve so many hours of community service. No really.
That wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
Now you have to take courses to be a coach. Many of my coaches were well meaning but did not actually know how to teach children to play baseball. Telling a kid to “keep your eye on the ball” is worthless advice. It means nothing. HOW do you do that?
Coaching is hard; you have to know how to do it. The first adult I ever met who actually knew how to coach was my Grade 9 gym teacher, Mr. Murphy. Mr. Murphy saw it as his job to actually teach young boys how to do athletic things, as opposed to running laps or yelling. One week, we learned how to throw a football, annd I don’t mean we played catch; I mean he showed us, with diagrams, examples, instructions and correction, exactly how to grip, hold, and throw a football, every motion involved. By the end of the week, every kid in the class, even ones who had never thrown a football before in their lives, were throwing footballs like they were born knowing it. One of the kids in my class, whose name was John, was literally the most nerdy, socially awkward, talentless and physically incapable people I’ve ever known, and wouldn’t have known a football from a fajita. By Friday he could put a spiral right into your chest at 20 yards. It is a teachable skill.
But that is itself a skill. Drilling children in how to play baseball is hard. It is a technically complex game. You can’t just be a well meaning guy who knows the rules (and not all my coaches knew all the rules) and played good baseball and be able to teach it. HOW do you hold a swing a bat?