John Kruk didn’t want to be there. Most hitters didn't want to be in the box when a 6-foot-10 lefty was hurling 100 mph heat with a "calculated" lack of control, but Kruk was different. He was vocal about it. Before the 1993 All-Star Game at Camden Yards even started, the Phillies first baseman was reportedly telling anyone who would listen that he had zero interest in facing "The Big Unit."
Then the third inning happened.
Randy Johnson took the mound. Kruk stepped in. What followed wasn't just a plate appearance; it was a piece of performance art that basically froze time for everyone watching in Baltimore and at home. People talk about the "intensity" of the Midsummer Classic, but this was pure, unadulterated survival.
The Pitch That Almost Ended John Kruk
It only took one ball. Johnson’s first offering wasn't just inside; it was a 98 mph missile that whistled directly over Kruk’s head, thudding into the backstop with a sound like a small explosion.
Kruk’s reaction? He didn't just back out of the box. He bailed. He nearly ended up in the dugout. You've probably seen the clip—the wild-eyed look, the frantic hand-wiping on his jersey, the way he fanned himself like a Victorian lady who’d just seen a ghost. Honestly, it was the most relatable thing any professional athlete has ever done.
Most guys would try to look tough. They’d dig back in, maybe stare the pitcher down to reclaim some pride. Not Kruk. He stood as far away from the plate as the chalk would allow. He was basically in the on-deck circle while trying to hit.
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Why Kruk Was Actually Terrified
You have to remember the context of 1993. This wasn't the "gentle giant" Randy Johnson of the Arizona Diamondbacks years. This was the Seattle Mariners version—the one with the terrifying mullet, the scowl that could wilt a sunflower, and an arm that hadn't yet fully mastered where the ball was going.
- Release Point: Because of his height, Johnson released the ball significantly closer to the plate than a normal pitcher.
- The Lefty-on-Lefty Factor: For a left-handed hitter like Kruk, the ball starts behind your shoulder. It feels like it’s coming from first base.
- The Reputation: Johnson led the league in walks for three straight years (1990-1992). He was "effectively wild," which is a polite way of saying "I might accidentally kill you."
Kruk later joked about the encounter, famously saying, "When I stepped in the box, all I wanted to do was make contact. After the first pitch, all I wanted to do was live."
Did Randy Johnson Do It on Purpose?
This is the part that still gets debated in bars across Philly and Seattle. Johnson claimed for years that the ball "just got away." He’s a Hall of Famer, so we’re supposed to believe him, right?
Kinda.
Years later, some of Johnson's teammates and even Randy himself dropped hints that he knew exactly what he was doing. He had heard Kruk’s pre-game comments about being scared. In an exhibition game that didn't mean anything in the standings, the Big Unit decided to give the fans—and Kruk—exactly what they wanted. He toyed with him.
If you watch the replay closely, you can see the tiniest smirk on Johnson’s face after Kruk bails. He breaks the "scowl" for just a fraction of a second. It was the ultimate "gotcha" moment.
The Strikeout That Nobody Cared About
Kruk went on to strike out on three pitches. He didn't even look like he was trying to swing at the last two; he was just happy to be moving toward the dugout. The box score says it was a swinging strikeout, but the reality was a surrender.
Usually, a three-pitch K in the All-Star Game is a source of embarrassment. For Kruk, it was a victory lap. He walked back to the bench laughing. His teammates were hysterical. Cito Gaston and the rest of the American League dugout were doubled over.
It’s one of those rare moments where the competitive fire of MLB took a backseat to the sheer absurdity of the sport. We forget sometimes that these guys are human. Kruk reminded us that even a .300-hitting All-Star feels the same "nope" energy we would if a giant started throwing rocks at our heads.
The Legacy of the Kruk-Johnson Encounter
This wasn't the last time Randy Johnson would terrorize an All-Star. In 1997, he did the same thing to Larry Walker. Walker, being a bit more prepared for the antics, actually turned his batting helmet around and batted right-handed for a pitch just to stay as far away from the danger zone as possible.
But the John Kruk moment remains the blueprint. It’s the gold standard for "All-Star Game weirdness."
If you’re looking to relive the magic or explain to a younger fan why these two are legends, don't look at the Cy Young awards or the 1993 World Series stats first. Look at that three-pitch sequence in Baltimore. It tells you everything you need to know about the fear Johnson inspired and the self-deprecating charm that made Kruk a fan favorite for decades.
Practical Insights for Fans:
- Check the 1993 ASG Box Score: You’ll see Kirby Puckett won the MVP, but history only remembers Kruk’s "non-at-bat."
- Watch the Larry Walker 1997 clip: It’s the spiritual sequel to the Kruk incident.
- Listen to Kruk’s modern broadcasts: He still brings up the "near-death experience" with his signature dry wit whenever the Big Unit is mentioned.
The 1993 encounter proves that baseball is at its best when it doesn't take itself too seriously. Sometimes, "coming out alive" is a better stat than a home run.
Next Steps:
- Analyze the 1993 Phillies Season: Research how John Kruk’s personality helped lead that "Macho Row" team to the World Series despite the All-Star Game trauma.
- Compare Randy Johnson's Stats: Look at his 1993 strikeout numbers (308) to understand exactly how dominant he was when Kruk faced him.
- Explore All-Star Game Bloopers: Find the top 10 most "human" moments in MLB history where the pros looked like amateurs.