The familiar maxim, bestowed upon us by the newspaper reporter in "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," is as follows: When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.
With more than 200 million people getting their "facts" from Twitter these days, we might as well heed that advice. So here goes:
? Sam Fuld once hit a grand slam off the ceremonial first pitch.
? When Blue Oyster Cult recorded "Don't Fear the Reaper," the producer said he wanted "more Sam Fuld."
? Superman wears Sam Fuld pajamas to bed.
? Seventy-five percent of the world is covered by water; the other 25 percent is covered by Sam Fuld.
? The Tampa Bay Rays have renamed their home stadium Tropicana Fuld.
? Sam Fuld has only been thrown out at home once. By Sam Fuld.
And so on, and so on.
But as much as the "Legend of Sam Fuld" is an entertaining Twitter trend, the real story behind Fuld's rise to fame with the Rays is captivating of its own accord.
After all, you won't find any other 5-foot-9 (he's listed in the media guide at 5-foot-10, so it's safe to take at least an inch off that), New Hampshire-born, Jewish, diabetic outfielders in the Baseball Encyclopedia. And you'd be equally hard-pressed to find anybody who predicted the immediate impact Fuld has had since Manny Ramirez went abruptly into that good night.
Fuld is batting .346 with a homer, six doubles, two triples, eight RBIs and 10 stolen bases in 20 games. Combine those numbers with his defensive dexterity, which manager Joe Maddon said is right in line with what his club used to receive from Carl Crawford, and you see the spark Fuld has provided for a Rays team that has rebounded from a 1-8 start to win 10 of its past 13 games.
All this has served to make Fuld an instant, albeit unlikely, celebrity.
That status was created the night of April 11, when Fuld turned Fenway Park into his personal playground with a 4-for-6 performance -- a would-be cycle had he not stretched the base hit in his last at-bat into a double. It is augmented with each eye-catching catch and each tall-tale tweet, and it has been cemented by the May 29 promotion the Rays have lined up. Rather than giving out a Ramirez bobblehead doll, they'll be handing out "Super Sam" capes to the kids.
The 29-year-old Fuld, a Stanford-educated math whiz who once interned at Chicago-based STATS LLC, is too in tune with the game's numerical rhythms to think he can keep up his torrid pace. Even his starting opportunity might be fleeting, given that top prospect Desmond Jennings is looming in Triple-A.
Yet that hasn't kept Fuld from enjoying the ride.
"It's a great opportunity," Fuld said, "and an unexpected one. But I've been around the game enough to know these sorts of things happen. It can work for you and against you. When you get these chances, you've got to try to make the most of them and try not to get too caught up in it all."
No matter how "The Legend of Sam Fuld" evolves in the coming months, for the son of Amanda Merrill, New Hampshire state senator, and Kenneth Fuld, dean of the College of Liberal Arts at the University of New Hampshire, to even be in the big leagues is a testament to his determination and doggedness.