Game 135 // First Inning // D’Back to Back to Back

Dyson. Marte. Peralta.

No outs.

Batter one, batter two, batter three.




You think, maybe this happens because the starter is tipping his pitches. 

But then you think, Arizona might just have a knack for this.

Two years ago, there was a prequel:




Or if not, maybe some weird baseball magic was in the air last night in Philadelphia.

With Arizona setting the franchise record for home runs.

And when these two teams, combined, broke the all-time record for home runs in a game.




Forget about starting a game with three home runs—what are the odds that in that same game, the record for total home runs would be set? 

So, there’s that. The magic-in-the-air option.


And then, there’s the most compelling:

The Jared Principle.


Which states, when an orthographically-irregular “Jared” encounters another orthographically-irregular “Jared”…

Wild, unpredictable chaos ensues. 


Jerad Eickhoff on the mound. 

Jarrod Dyson at the plate.


Which was maybe finally enough—for this long-theorized Jared Principle to make its debut on earth.

When the very first pitch of the game ends up in the seats in right.

Home run. 1-0, D-Backs.


Courtesy of this most rare of cosmic meetings, this Jarrod vs. Jerad.





Before it’s all in the history books, there might be one last explanation for all this.

Involving that man in green, roaming the ballpark during every Phillies home game.




Just before Dyson came up in the first, the Phillie Phanatic sauntered over to the Diamondbacks’ dugout and, wiggling his fingers, threw a little hex their way.


One of the TV guys says: 

“The Phanatic is down there trying to put the whammy on the Diamondbacks… but they’ve won 9 of their last 10 here at Citizens Bank Park.”

“So the whammy from the Phanatic is haywire.”

“Yeah, keep doing it!” says Bob Brenly.


And then, those three home runs. Back to back to back.

Which might just mean it was a backfire whammy.


Or a drunk whammy:




However it happened, it happened.

Back to back to back. To start the first inning in Philly.


Dyson, then Marte, then Peralta.

13 pitches. 3-0 Arizona. Three home runs.




And the worst possible start to the night for Jerad Eickhoff.






And the next morning?

He’s relegated.




So there’s a lesson in this. Not that he’ll be around to do anything about it now—but someday if he’s called up again, and another “Jared” comes to the plate, he can tell the manager:

“Trust me, I can’t face this guy.”


And if he did.

If he knew when to hold and when to fold…


The Jared Principle would, for one day, lose all its might.