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Coco Crisp: Static Age BY Lucas Pearson , September 7th, 2007 RedSoxTicket.com On days when there’s a ballgame, two fields occupy Fenway Park. There is the familiar green grass, stable and stationary, with its odd dimensions and the mowed patterns that reflect the whims of head groundskeeper David Mellor. The other field is known to only one person, and it is sensed, rather than seen. Millions of invisible tendrils of energy, all interconnected, fill the space from the tips of each blade of grass to heights high above the light towers that frame the ballpark. Every one of these lines come to a focal point, located 40 feet in front of the 420 foot mark, in center field. Covelli ‘Grandma called me Coco’ Crisp is the source of the static energy, and its master. Coco CrispDuring a frustrating 2006 season, Coco Crisp spent most his time nursing a broken thumb (occurring 2 weeks into the campaign, in Baltimore, on an awkward head-first slide). He cheered his teammates on, but the wheels came off after the all-star break, and there really wasn’t much to holler about. Idle time in the dugout leads to strange things in baseball – hot foots, shaving cream pies, taping Pedro Martinez to a pole…that sort of thing. Crisp had time to try out some new mustache/beard combinations, configure his fantasy football roster to compete with Youkilis and Francona, and, most importantly, try out some new hairstyles. Short-cropped is pretty suave, but lacks spice. Cornrows are fun, but are labor intensive. Embracing a free and easy spirit, and letting that hair grow wild, can help relax an injured player watching his team fall out of the playoffs. So, that is what Coco decided to do. He went with a goatee, drafted Larry Johnson, used the Bears defense, and grew an afro. On a day when his hat was just beginning to give up its attempts to contain his hair, Coco Crisp noticed something strange from his spot on the dugout steps. In the top of the 3rd inning, against Toronto, Vernon Wells hit a line drive to the gap. No one in the outfield got a good jump, and base-runners streaked around the diamond. That wasn’t the odd thing, though. What startled Coco was the tingling feeling behind his ears as the ball hit the bat. It was like a flash of heightened consciousness, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. Closing his eyes, Crisp tried to concentrate on the root of the feeling, and what it might mean. Recreating the moment, he remembered feeling a forceful suggestion – telling him to run, and, specifically, where to run. The rest of the game passed without incident, but the strange occurrence dominated his thoughts that night. The next day, another loss, with still more time on the bench – Coco Crisp, today, was more attentive to each at-bat by the opposition. He was able to repeat the tingling flash, with varying degrees of intensity, for any contact made by a batter. Coco was teaching himself how to use a very powerful, and unique, tool - the sixth tool of a ballplayer. There have been rumors of players, in the past, possessing a skill beyond the traditional “five tools”. Some said that George Brett could alter the physical state of the pine tar on his bat during his swing. It would flow along the bat, before contact, to maximize bat-speed by changing its balance, and then become extremely solid at the point of contact with the ball. Dingers, all day. Dennis Eckersly once admitted to having a magical fingernail, capable of infusing a ball with what he called “filth stink” that would allow earth-shattering movement on rising fastballs. No one took his claim seriously (mostly because of his mullet and stache). Like most players, Coco Crisp had heard tales of those who were said to have a sixth tool, but figured they were the stuff of long travel days, and too much of the Coors beer that Yaz used to fill the backs of team planes with. Through the remaining days of the 2006 campaign, though, he became a believer. His hair grew longer, and the intensity of his extra-sensory tinglings grew along with it. Coco practiced using the instinctual flashes that came with it, for each batted ball, and could soon determine exactly where each would land, in the ballpark, within a foot. Eventually, he could pinpoint the landings within an inch. The 2006 season ended in disappointment for the Red Sox, and Crisp went home for an offseason of meditation and experimentation. By the end of spring training, 2007, Coco’s thumb was feeling better, and he was back on the field. People started to take notice that the first step he took towards the fungos hit to him were lightning fast. Coco Crisp had obtained a sixth tool. From his position in center field, static energy pours out of the hair that escapes his cap, and covers the field. When the batter makes contact, an instant jolt is sent back to Coco, and he steps immediately towards where the ball will land. Throughout the flight of the ball, more signals are sent back to him, and he can alter his gait to account for wind and topspin. As long as his body is physically capable of getting to the spot where the ball will land, he will catch it. If this all sounds like baseball fantasy to you, do yourself a favor and review the defense played by Coco Crisp in 2007. Watch highlights, not only of the catches he’s made, but, also, of his first step the instant a ball is hit. At the same time, notice the hair. See it bounce and twitch below the sides of his cap. See it come alive. See it speak to him. In 2007, Coco became a six tool player. Coco Crisp entered a static age.