The concept of a "ceremonial first punt" is not one that crossed my mind before Friday afternoon. If it crossed yours, I commend and envy your curiosity for the world.
Mitch Wishnowsky brought that concept to reality. In the cool environs of Oracle Park, with all eyes set on the Giants hopefully-hopeful 2024 campaign debuting for the first time at home, Wishnowsky stole the show.
After Fred Warner and Deebo Samuel did their best 50 Cent first pitch impressions, the cameras turned to the punter. He was just, ya know, hanging out there in right-center field. Hey guys, it's me, Mitch. And then he sent a football hurtling over Levi's Landing, into McCovey Cove. The full video is here.
At least, I, and maybe I alone, cannot stop thinking about the fact that he punted a ball from right field, over a wall, and into McCovey Cove. It's not so much that it was innately impressive (it looked cool, and I would love the statcast numbers on it), but that it captured the pure, childlike thought of, "I wonder if I can kick that ball over that fence."
Wishnowsky answered that question in the form of an oddity that has taken more of my attention than the admittedly entertaining game going on. The Giants seem like a theoretically competent team, and at least, no longer a mid-upon-mid-upon-mid roster. That is a comforting thought for a sport with an onerously long season, during which you'd hope the dream of the playoffs leans more realistic than theoretical.
What I really wonder about is those kayakers, at least one of whom looks understandably confused at the end of that video. The ones who sit in the cove with their radios tuned, ignoring the world in their quest for relative solitude. Solitude... and Jon Miller "¡adióóóóós pelotaaaa!"-s heading their way.
I wonder if its wobbling descent towards McCovey Dave affected him. Was he scared? Did the sight of this oblong, foreign object shake him to his core?
"Did I miss a rule change? Oh god, is this what baseballs look like now? Have they always looked like this? Why am I in a kayak? Where am I? WHO am I?"
And was Wishnowsky as confused when he thumped the living hell out of that ball? He certainly looked a little confused as he stood there alone -- except for an off-screen Giants staffer exchanging an unsigned ball for a signed one -- in that outfield.
I must assume that he was pondering that he was kicking the ball for the right sport in the wrong stadium, with an "ok, I guess I'm doing this," nod. Was he considering that this same field hosted the demise of his countrymen in the 2018 Rugby World Cup 7s? Was this his moment for oblong vengeance?
Or was he single-mindedly propelled by the potential embarrassment of the ball falling flat, careening into the splash hits sign, and therefore serving as a dark omen of a mediocre Giants season to come? If he followed up the first pitch scuds from Warner and Samuel with one of his own, what did that say about them? Were they destined to once again come up short? (Too soon?)
And as the ball arced over the fence, was he struck by Icarusian thoughts of what he had done? Had he kicked too hard? Was his swag, perhaps, too different? Was he haunted by reverbs of Steve Buscemi's all-too-prescient quote from Spy Kids 2: "Do you think that God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?"
These are just some of the very reasonable questions we must ask ourselves when we are met with such unparalleled beauty as the sight of a football flying over a fence.
Most Popular
Comments / 0