Carson Benge did something in six minutes that had never happened in 118 years
The speed of the throw made every headline. The thing that had never happened before went unmentioned.
They said
That was the third-hardest outfield assist tracked by Statcast (since 2015), behind only Aaron Hicks (105.5 mph in 2016) and Brett Phillips (104.0 mph in 2017).
The arithmetic
Manny Machado is rounding second base and Bob Henley has about two seconds to decide.
Henley coaches third base for San Diego. One batter earlier he sent Jake Cronenworth home on a single to right, and a twenty-three-year-old Mets rookie named Carson Benge threw him out at the plate at 99.9 miles an hour.
He sends Machado anyway.
Benge charges the ball, scoops it on the run and throws. 103.9. Out by several feet. Inning over. An inning later another Mets rookie, A.J. Ewing, throws a third Padre out at the same plate, and San Diego loses 2-1.
Now look at what the Padres had just done in that first inning. Four hits in a row. Not one run.
I went through every inning played in the major leagues since 1908 looking for another one like it, and there is no other one. What happened at Citi Field on the seventeenth of August had never happened before in a hundred and eighteen years of box scores.
And the number that made every headline the next morning, 103.9 miles an hour, turns out to undersell him. On the cameras MLB uses for its own leaderboard, that throw is not third. It is first.
First, what an outfield assist has become
Before any of that means much you need to know that the thing Carson Benge did twice is quietly going extinct.
In 1910 outfielders recorded .411 assists per team-game. By 1930 it was .253.
Last season it was .166.
Less than half, and the slide runs almost unbroken across a century. The all-time single-season record still belongs to Chuck Klein, who threw out forty-four men for Philadelphia in 1930. Nobody has come near it since.
The reason is not that arms got worse. An outfield assist requires two people, a man who can throw and a man willing to find out, and the second one has been disappearing. Runners went for the extra base on 46 percent of their chances through 1930. Last season it was 38.
The throw Benge made twice that night has been vanishing from baseball for a hundred years.
How rare, exactly
Every good play gets called historic. I wanted to know whether this one really was.
Take every game since 1908 and find every time one outfielder threw out two runners at home plate.
In the same game, 361 times. That is once every few seasons somewhere in baseball. Common enough to have a shape.
Narrow it to the same inning, 47 times.
Narrow it to back-to-back batters, the way Benge did it, 26 times. Nine of those since 1990.
Twenty-six occasions in a hundred and eighteen years. The most recent belongs to Dewayne Wise of Toronto, on the fourth of July in 2010, at Yankee Stadium.
And no Met appears anywhere on that list. We’ve been on the wrong end of it, though. In 1995 Gregg Jefferies, who came up with the Mets, did it to us in a Phillies uniform, cutting down Jeff Kent and Todd Hundley on consecutive batters.
Now put the two conditions together. A half-inning with four straight hits and no runs, in which one outfielder threw two men out at the plate.
Thirty-nine scoreless four-hit innings. Twenty-six consecutive-batter double assists. A hundred and eighteen years of overlap available.
Zero.
103.9
MLB.com reported that Benge’s second throw was the third-hardest outfield assist tracked by Statcast (since 2015)
, behind Aaron Hicks at 105.5 in 2016 and Brett Phillips at 104.0 in 2017.
Every word of that is accurate. The most important one is the easiest to skip over. Tracked.
Imagine the world record for the high jump only counted jumps since 2015. Every jump before that still happened. Nobody held up a tape measure.
Baseball has written down outfield assists since the 1870s and has measured how fast they travel since 2015. The reason is physics. A radar gun reads speed by bouncing a signal off something coming straight at it, which is perfect for a pitch and close to useless for a throw that cuts across the field at an angle. So Roberto Clemente threw out twenty-seven runners in 1961 and not one of them has a number attached to it.
Even Statcast has not been one machine. Through 2019 it used radar, which finds the ball already in flight and works backward to guess how fast it left the hand. In 2020 baseball replaced it with Hawk-Eye, the camera system that calls the lines at Wimbledon, which watches the ball leave the fingers.
Hicks and Phillips were clocked by the old radar. Benge was clocked by the cameras.
When MLB built its own arm-strength leaderboard it started the list in 2020 and left the radar years off. Count only the cameras, the way MLB’s own leaderboard does, and no outfielder has thrown a runner out harder than Carson Benge did that night.
The two throws ahead of his also came off fly balls, which give an outfielder a few seconds to settle under it and set his feet. Benge fielded a line drive on the ground while running in and let it go from wherever he landed.
Since at least 1920
Two more claims came out of that night, and both came with the fine print attached.
Jason Bernard, who works in MLB’s research department, found that no outfielder had ever thrown out two runners in the same inning on throws of 99 miles an hour or harder, at least since Statcast began in 2015. Sarah Langs of MLB.com passed it along, window and all.
SNY, the network that carries Mets games, reported that the Mets were the first team since at least 1920 to throw three runners out at home in the first two innings. That “at least” is broadcast shorthand for “our records get blurry before this.”
Mine go back to 1908. I checked every one of those seasons, 1920 included, where the most any team managed was two. It had never happened.
What’s actually true
A twenty-three-year-old right fielder was tested twice in six minutes by a team that had every reason to stop after the first one. He threw out both men on consecutive batters, something twenty-six players have managed since 1908 and no Met ever. He did it inside a half-inning that produced four straight hits and no runs, which has happened thirty-nine times in a hundred and eighteen years and never once with two outfield throws to the plate.
He did the harder of the two on the run.
There is no leaderboard for what he did. The throw came with a number already attached to it. The inning had to be counted first, and nobody had.
The two claims that did get made both hold up. The velocity claim is accurate inside an eleven-year window, against two throws measured by a machine MLB no longer uses and will not put beside the current one on its own leaderboard. The team claim is accurate, correctly hedged by the people who made it, and it can be pushed back another twelve years without breaking.
Four hits. No runs. And a first inning nobody has ever had.