Jurickson Profar Got In Dodgers Fans’ Heads

There was a multitude of jinks this weekend, by any standard, which meant it would be hard to identify the highest of them. It was an unusually rich NFL Sunday, with two blocked field goal scoop ‘n’ scores and two hundred-yard defensive scores; Vanderbilt blocking Alabama’s hat and its fans perpwalking the goalposts to Nashville’s version of the sea; Miami ruining Cal’s reinduction into college football’s inner sanctum; Boise State’s Ashton Jeanty rushing for 1,000 yards in only five games; Kyler Murray celebrating a 50-yard touchdown run at the 45-yard line; the goofy-ass Mets-Phillies series; and the New York Liberty getting closer to their first WNBA championship by putting the boot to the Las Vegas Aces with satisfied emphasis. These are in no particular order; your own emotional mileage may vary.

They were also the decidedly lowjinks of Dolphins-Patriots, all three turgid hours of it, and the disaster that is Jets general manager Aaron Rodgers; Davante Adams in a stasis loop while the Raiders try to figure out the worst place to trade him; the NFL’s new speed-concussion policy as it pertained to Justin Fields and Josh Allen (hint: their heads are still attached, so they’re ready to go); the first inning of Tigers-Guardians; the megadisaster that is the Trent Dilfer apology/experiment at Alabama-Birmingham; and most depressingly, the lightning storm in Pittsburgh that delayed Cowboys-Steelers but did not strike Elon Musk when he was right there for the frying.

But nothing was jinkier, and we mean this, than the outfield at Dodger Stadium Sunday night. Jurickson Profar did the below, which led a series of exchanges between Profar and the fans in left field, including at one point an exchange of baseballs that turned into a full-on delay.

In a 10-2 Padres win, the Profar catch was in and of itself a troll of great height, heft, and depth, as it took Mookie Betts nearly to third base before realizing that his home run was no such thing. It was in its way both hilariously disrespectful (without intent) to everyone else on the field and the broadcast crews, and mightily incendiary to what is becoming the Dodgers’ most intrusive rivalry. It was, in short, art.

But not just art for a few seconds, but the new touchpoint of a series that might well turn spiky, what with the geography, the Padres’ noisy neighbor syndrome, their general doesn’t-play-with-others image that last year apparently included each other, and the very real possibility that San Diego is good enough to eliminate the Dodgers and therefore enrage casual fans and Ohtaniphiles across the land and ocean. In other words, there’s a lot in play here, a lot that Royals-Yankees, Tigers-Guardians and yes, even Mets-Phillies can barely hope to attain.

Plus, if the series goes the full five (and it will if there is a celestial being that loves and cares for its intergalactic creatures), the show-or-go game will be back in Los Angeles Friday night, with all the potential for mutant fun that implies. The Year Of Ohtani could end short of full payoff because the Dodgers couldn’t find enough pitching to support him, the Padres and Guardians could meet in the first Empty Trophy Case World Series, Fox could try to go all Bally’s on its baseball rights, and Rob Manfred’s October Of Love could just end up being another mouthful of ash.

All because Jurickson Profar is not just a master of legerdemain, but an impish provocateur of the first magnitude. The only way this could be better is if the Dodgers gave out souvenir baseballs for Game 5 and got Musk to shag fly balls before Game 5 while wearing a brown jersey with Profar’s name on the back. We all live in hope.