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Sunday:
Monday:
My favorite part about this sequence of events is that NONE of it takes place without Jose Altuve unceremoniously swimming into second like a kid without his floaties for the first time. There's just no way that Mike Trout trips doing something he could probably do in his sleep without making fun of someone else for doing it first. I am not even saying this has anything to do with karma. I am saying that once Mike Trout saw Jose Altuve turn base running into a chore he became incepted by the previously foreign thought that base running could - indeed - be a chore. There's not a doubt in my mind that Trout came barreling around first, caught a glimpse of Altuve, and immediately started saying to himself "don't fuck this up, don't fuck this, you can't fuck this up". Everyone knows that's when you are the most likely to completely botch a fairly routine task. Mike Trout hasn't consciously paid a lick of attention to where his feet were in relation to the bases since he was hitting off a tee. It's been second nature to him since he was eating orange slices in the dugout. That's why he ended up on his knees faster than a gold digger backstage at a Kanye show as soon as he started calculating steps and mentally preparing himself for a moment he's never actually thought of as a moment. Let yourself get tricked into thinking something is a bigger deal than it is and you're more likely to come up small. Obviously I don't see this as more than a one time thing, but it's pretty much the same concept that turned Chuck Knoblauch from a productive infielder to a guy that required a first baseman with Wilt Chamberlain's wingspan. 
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