On Monday the visiting Baltimore Orioles beat the Detroit Tigers by a score of something to something. This is not important. What is important is that there was a squirrel.
With a squirrel’s innate mischievousness and ability to completely derail whatever else is going on, the Detroit squirrel spent a couple of innings exploring increasingly precarious locations around the diamond, before a phalanx of grounds crew members and one visiting outfielder were dispatched to remove it from the premises. If you have ever tried to capture a squirrel, you know this was easier proposed than accomplished. There is a reason the official MLB squirrel highlight video is 12 minutes long.
The squirrel, in a dashing melanistic colorway, first appeared on the warning track, and eventually made its way into foul territory. It might have been safe there, not disrupting the game. It was even making friends. Orioles third base coach Buck Britton tossed it a sunflower seed in case it was hungry, according to the Baltimore Banner’s comprehensive squirrel coverage. This unfortunately may have emboldened it.
The squirrel gradually started exploring the field, scampering around on the shallow outfield grass, declining to exit through a proffered escape route to the bullpen, and wondering where in the batting order it had been penciled.
“At one point I thought he was going to go into the batter’s box, see what was going on,” said Orioles manager Craig Albernaz. “He had a great view of the game.”
By the top of the seventh, the squirrel’s antics had simply become too zany to tolerate. The grounds crew jogged out in an attempt to surround it. (The action starts at 9:07 of the video above.) Through a fluke of positioning, they chased it directly to right fielder Leody Taveras, who tried to get a glove on the rascally rodent and ended up flipping it into the air.
“I just was trying to bring it up.” Taveras said. “I wasn’t trying to do that. It didn’t go the way I wanted it to, but I hope that it’s good, it’s OK.”
Eventually, the visibly tired squirrel was smothered in a towel and removed from the field of play, to the audible derision of the pro-squirrel crowd. The squirrel also quietly had some supporters in uniform. “I wanted, personally, for him to stay on the field,” Orioles 3B Coby Mayo said. “It makes the game more interesting.”
The physical removal of the squirrel was not the end of the saga. Crew chief Bill Miller got on the mic and implored the crowd to give the grounds crew a round of applause for all their hard work. They deserved it; squirrels are as slippery as they are wily. Instead the crowd booed.
In the ninth, the crowd struck up a chant: “We love squirrels.” Normal baseball things.
After the game, the Banner sought a statement from the Tigers on the health and status of the squirrel. This is just good journalism; we are still awaiting the truth about the Pittsburgh pigeon who was struck by a line drive last year and was “alive, but essentially on life support.” A Tigers spokesperson offered the not-reassuring enough statement: “Our understanding is that the squirrel was in fine health after being removed from the field and released.” I choose to believe the squirrel is fine, and has been sent on its way with a bag of peanuts for its troubles.