After drawing a walk with one out in the eighth inning, Hoskins slid hard into second base on a grounder by Willy Adames, avoiding the double play and keeping the inning alive. Hoskins kept his spikes low — this was not Hal McRae’s airborne body block in 1977 — but still made contact with Jeff McNeil, the Mets’ fiery second baseman.
McNeil stood over Hoskins, screaming at him, and Hoskins let him vent. He’s seen plenty of McNeil, and that’s just what he does. Replay upheld the legal slide, and Hoskins got the best of the punchless fracas that followed: Facing McNeil from a distance, he rubbed his cheeks with his knuckles, the universal symbol for taunting a crybaby.
“I’ve played in this ballpark a bunch,” Hoskins said. “He just seems to be complaining when things aren’t going well, and I think that was kind of one of those moments. Maybe lost in the heat of the game a little bit, but I think it’s just playing the game hard and playing it the right way.”
The infield dirt seemed especially hard anyway; from the first inning on, the Brewers’ Christian Yelich said, players were reminding each other not to overslide when attempting a steal. But whatever the conditions, Hoskins’ slide proved a point to a team with 12 players who had never made an Opening Day roster before.
“That shows what Rhys is about,” manager Pat Murphy said. “He’s a big-league ballplayer having a tough day at the plate his first day back in a year. And he sent the message to all the young kids on this team that even when you’re not having a day you like at the plate, ‘I’m gonna play hard. I’m gonna do the little things that make the game what it is today.’”