It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t long.  It was barely even a fight.  But when Red Sox slugger Kevin Youkilis took a pitch from Detroit Tiger wunderkind Rick Porcello between the two and the zero on the back of his jersey, I swear I heard a bell ring.  This meeting of the minds and other body parts was nothing more than a couple of professional athletes coming together over a slight misunderstanding based on some misplaced tosses from both pitchers, including one on the wrist of Tigers superstar Miguel Cabrera that knocked him out of the game in the middle of an at-bat.  This incontrovertible fact, however, wouldn’t prevent a promoter from boxing’s heyday from having a field day promoting this bout between two drastically dissimilar individuals.  Kevin “The Killer” Youkilis versus “Pretty” Rick Porcello.  The Cincinnati Creep versus The Morristown Mauler.  Frankenstein versus the matinee idol.  Chubby mouse versus kiddie mouse, scrapping over who gets to be big cheese.  Stranger bedfellows couldn’t be had if you found an MIT professor and a Hooters waitress stress-testing a Holiday Inn mattress.

Charging the mound was Youkilis, a ballplayer that, until recently, was known more for his less-than-svelte physique than his punch at the plate.  Prior to joining the Red Sox major league roster, he was best known as the white whale chased, and never caught, by the Oakland A’s front office in Michael Lewis’ Moneyball. And even when he made the big club, there were questions as to what kind of player he could be, if he even was a player.  But as he’s done throughout his playing career, Youkilis made critics eat their words with a side of crow,  helping the Red Sox to a World Series championship in 2007, and becoming one of the most feared and loathed hitters in the American League.  Befitting the fiery red-ass reputation that’s made him the face of the Boston franchise, Youkilis paused briefly to remove his helmet and hurl it at his assailant before continuing on his way towards the inevitable showdown.

At the other end of this exchange, nimbly dodging the plastic red projectlie, was young Porcello, a man just two years removed from his high school graduation.  Where Youkilis had to overcome both scouts and science to achieve the success he’s realized, Porcello’s path to the Major Leagues has been as gold-plated as any walkway outside of Oz.  A lights-out hurler in prep school, the highest-paid high school pitcher ever drafted, up with the big club after only one year toiling in the minor leagues, and now one of the key components of a first place club.  Porcello might be too young to buy himself a beer, but age ain’t nothing but a number when it comes to getting your clock cleaned.

Sadly for fans of the sweet science, no punches were thrown, though Greco-Roman wrestling fans might have been satified with the skirmish.  Youkilis quickly pounced on Porcello after missing with the helmet, and while fans of their respective teams might question who brought who down, there’s no question that both men took a tumble.  Shortly after touchdown came their respective teammates running in from all sides of the field, both to pull the two men apart and to perhaps settle their own scores.  But only fellow Tigers pitcher Edwin Jackson, bearing a not-so-passing resemblance to Lou Frazier as he tried to muscle his way through the crowd, looked eager to throw down.  The only other confrontation of note occurred between the two managers, and what happened between Jim Leyland and Terry Francona was completely verbal, and free of any animosity.

So is there much in this to-do, or is it all just a whole lot of nothing?  Mostly the latter — Red Sox fans might like to think that this skirmish is a harbinger similar to the tussle that happened between their team and the Yankees back in 2004, but it’s much too early to say that for sure.  No one was hurt in the fight, thankfully, except potentially for some players’ and managers’ wallets, if that.  As they say, the game goes on, and though the game remembers many notable skirmishes — the scalp massage Nolan Ryan administered to a young Robin Ventura, for one, or Chan Ho Park letting his feet do the talking against Tim Belcher, or that tawdry affair between Juan Marichal, John Roseboro, and a baseball bat — it will go on to forget this little donnybrook.  So move along, folks.  Nothing to see here except some baseball, if you want it.

Boxing guru Bert Sugar was elected to the International Boxing Hall of Fame in January 2005, wrote a whole lot of books, and smoked a whole lot of cigars.