There was discussion on Twitter Saturday night about Clay Buchholz's slowness of pace on the mound. Predictably, some amateur rule interpreters got into the act, but the only thing they proved was their lack of reading comprehension. Namely:
MLB rules require a pitcher, with no one on, to deliver the ball within 12 seconds of receiving it. Buchholz is taking 18-22 seconds.
— Adam J. Morris (@lonestarball) October 20, 2013
8.04 When the bases are unoccupied, the pitcher shall deliver the ball to the batter within 12 seconds after he receives the ball. Each time the pitcher delays the game by violating this rule, the umpire shall call “Ball.”
So, if Buchholz was taking 6-10 seconds longer than this, that's a pretty clear rule violation, right?
Well, not necessarily. Rule 8.04 continues:
The 12-second timing starts when the pitcher is in possession of the ball and the batter is in the box, alert to the pitcher. The timing stops when the pitcher releases the ball.
That "alert to the pitcher" part is pretty important. It typically takes longer than 6-10 seconds for the pitcher to get back on the rubber and for the batter to get set in the box and focus his eyes on the pitcher.
That's when the timing starts, not the instant the pitcher receives the ball back from the catcher or umpire.
In fact, I timed a dozen or so of Buchholz's pitches after the hullabaloo started and he consistently delivered to the plate within 7-10 seconds.
Furthermore, since the batter will typically step out and ask for time if the pitcher takes as many as, say, eight seconds to start his delivery, this rule is pretty much a moot point. That is, it's unenforced because it's virtually unenforceable.
Hey, I find Buchholz's pace as painstakingly lethargic as the next guy, and–after watching another four-hour Red Sox game–I understand the desire to speed things up, but rule 8.04–as it is currently written–is not the means to this end.
There was an umpiring controversy in the Padres-Dodgers game on Sunday. A lot has been written about it since, but, for some reason, I only first read any of it on Tuesday, and have only just had enough time to collect and finalize my thoughts today.
Most of what I've read has been fairly objective—except this*—even if it's shown me the one area that is the Achilles heel of even the mostwell-respected bloggers is knowledge of the rules and umpiring mechanics.
*Incidentally, this particular post and most of its 500+ comments leaves me baffled as to why people seem to take it so personally when calls don't go their team's way.
Before I even discuss what happened, let me get one thing out of the way first. When I write about umpiring, I have a tendency to come down on the side of the umpires, for reasons that will be obvious to some of you. Maybe I do this to a fault, and I'm sure I could be accused of not always being objective on this sensitive subject.
In this case, there is no doubt there was a screwup on the part of the umpire at the center of this controversy. Additionally, his mistake was potentially made worse by Major League Baseball's response, which barely admitted any blame on the part of the umpire. That's not a good situation, but that's only part of the story, because there were others who contributed to the fact this crazy play was a big reason why the Padres lost the game in question.
OK, time to talk about the play. (Also, hopefully watch it below.**)
**Since the embed code was made available, I can only assume I'm within my rights to reproduce it here. If not, I'll take it down and you'll have to visit one of the above links to view the play, if you haven't already seen it.
With the Padres batting, and with runners on first and second and no outs of a tie game in the top of the 9th, San Diego batter Jesus Guzman attempted to lay down a sacrifice bunt. But, the pitch came up and in on him and was headed for his neck or chin when he got his bat on the ball.
The batted ball went straight to the ground and trickled out in front of home plate. Dodgers catcher A.J. Ellis immediately pounced on it and threw to third. Both San Diego base runners were frozen with indecision and the after-effect of using the bat to defend himself from getting hit by the pitch caused Guzman to recoil in the direction of the third base on-deck circle. As a result, Los Angeles was able to turn an easy triple play.
But, there's a little more to this story than what I just described.
Home-plate umpire Dale Scott created a confusing situation, to say the least. As Ellis reacted to the play, and Scott attempted to stay out of his way, Scott's arms came up to the point his hands were maybe slightly higher than the top of his head. I've read this referred to as his signal that the ball was foul. This is absolutely incorrect.
Scott's next action, however, was the confusing part. He raised his hands up over his head in an emphatic motion that would seem to indicate he was ruling the play dead (either a foul ball or hit batter). He then immediately and almost in the same action pointed the ball fair.
Both runners froze. Presumably, both were looking at Scott for his call, when they should have been running the instant the pitch made contact with the bat. Remember, I said the ball went straight to the ground. Therefore, there was no reason for the runners to hesitate, even if they weren't sure if the pitch had hit the batter instead of the bat. In that situation, the play is dead anyway.
Furthermore, umpiring mechanics dictate that a foul ball be ruled with a vocal call (with remaining umpires echoing his call on less-than-obvious rulings such as this one), while a fair ball is ruled on silently. That way, runners and fielders don't need to look to the umpire for fair/foul rulings. By all indications, Scott did not make a verbal call. Why both runners chose to look at him for a call rather than run until they heard otherwise is unknown, but was clearly a mistake on their part.
Scott's indecisive hand signals were very similar to an umpire starting to outstretch both arms to make a safe call only to change his mind and lower his left arm while elevating his right to indicate an out call. Of course, this is not something you expect professional umpires to do frequently, but something that happens because they are, in fact, human.
Note I said very similar, not equivalent. The reason for this is an unintentional dead ball call rules a play dead, and all action ceases, whereas a call of safe or out doesn't stop subsequent action (unless an out is the third of an inning).
It was fairly obvious that Scott's indecision created confusion in the minds of the runners, enough so that I would like to have seen the umpires get together and talk this one through. I would also have liked to see Padres manager Bud Black ask for such a conference, but judging by his quick ejection he was in an arguing rather than a discussing mood.
One or more of Scott's partners had to have been initially confused by his mechanics as well. Would it be so crazy for the crew to have the authority to collectively decide what might have happened? Quite possibly, if expanded instant replay was adopted by Major League Baseball, a replay review could aid such a process.
Clearly, the runner from second would have been out at third on a bunt that landed right in front of home plate and was quickly retrieved by the catcher and thrown accurately to third base. Since Guzman, the batter, made no attempt to run to first, he would have easily been out as well. The only thing left to rule on would be whether the runner on first, if he hadn't been confused into thinking the play was dead, would have made it safely to second.
I suspect the end result of such a conversation, if it wasn't so outside the realm of how these situations are ordinarily handled, would have been to place the runner from first on second, with the runner from second and batter ruled out. In my opinion, that's the best possible outcome the Padres could have hoped for, despite the fact their fans were clamoring for the play to be ruled a foul ball. Which, of course, means those folks are complaining they were cheated out of the benefit of an incorrect ruling. I'll let you try and figure out the logic there.
But, of course, the same baseball culture that condones the type of unprofessional behavior that is routinely directed towards umpires also dictates such a compromise ruling would have created a firestorm of controversy from the other side. Or, quite possibly, both sides would have been unhappy with the outcome.
So, instead of being able to try to reach a conclusion that's right and fair, baseball umpires are forced to continue to umpire for their survival, even when that sometimes means standing their ground when admission of a mistake might be more appropriate and equitable.
OBSTRUCTION is the act of a fielder who, while not in possession of the ball and not in the act of fielding the ball, impedes the progress of any runner.
Rule 2.00 (Obstruction) Comment: If a fielder is about to receive a thrown ball and if the ball is in flight directly toward and near enough to the fielder so he must occupy his position to receive the ball he may be considered “in the act of fielding a ball.” It is entirely up to the judgment of the umpire as to whether a fielder is in the act of fielding a ball. After a fielder has made an attempt to field a ball and missed, he can no longer be in the “act of fielding” the ball. For example: an infielder dives at a ground ball and the ball passes him and he continues to lie on the ground and delays the progress of the runner, he very likely has obstructed the runner.
A few postseasons ago I wrote about the controversial call that wasn't, a play I thought should have been more of a controversy than it turned out to be. In contrast, this year's World Series included a somewhat controversial call that shouldn't have been. At least in my opinion, but not if you ask a couple bloggers who have since written about a play in game six they think was, or at least should be, against the rules.
First of all, let me say both bloggers made some solid points in their posts and in subsequent discussions I engaged them in, either via comments or on Twitter. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't feel my own explanation of the play to be worth the effort.
As I said, the play in question occurred in game six of the World Series. In the bottom of the 6th inning, with the bases full of Cardinals and one out, Rangers catcher Mike Napoli picked St. Louis' Matt Holliday off third. But, replays showed Texas third baseman Adrian Beltre had used his foot to at least partially block Holliday's return path to the bag.
Both of the aforementioned bloggers claimed this was obstruction, that Beltre moved his foot there with the intention of blocking the base, not because he had to in order to receive the throw.
First of all, let me just say that when a fielder possesses the ball, he's allowed to be anywhere he pleases. It's really as simple as that. He has no obligation to yield any kind of "right of way" to the runner. By the same token, the runner, in this instance, has equal right of way as the fielder. As you're probably well aware, this is why there are occasional collisions between runners and fielders, although most of the time these occur at home plate.
To further illustrate "right of way," I'll discuss a hypothetical example not related to the play in question.
Imagine there's a runner on second base and a ground ball is hit to the shortstop, who is attempting to field it directly in the path of the runner. Up to the point the ball reaches the fielder, assuming he's in the act of fielding it, he has the right of way. That is, if the runner collides with him, it's interference on the runner.
But, if the ball passes through the shortstop's legs, for instance, and then the runner makes contact with him, it's obstruction on the fielder. In other words, if he's no longer in the act of fielding the ball, the fielder has no right to be in the runner's path at all.
However, if the shortstop is no longer in the act of fielding the ball because he has it securely in his glove or hand, the runner and fielder now have equal right of way.
This is a little confusing, I realize, but it's important to the Beltre-Holliday example because one point that's been made is Beltre planted his foot in the base path before he caught the throw. So, the question is, does this mean he's guilty of blocking the base without the ball and, therefore, obstruction?
The answer is no, and the explanation for this is that essentially Beltre does so at his own risk. If the throw gets away from him and Holliday makes contact with his body, he's then guilty of obstruction. Whether or not Holliday would be awarded home as a result is left to the umpire's judgment, but I'm not getting into that scenario.
The important point is it's not obstruction until the fielder impedes the runner (in this case, when contact is made), so since the throw was securely in Beltre's glove before Holliday slides into his foot, what Beltre did was perfectly legal.
As well it should be. Another point that was made is the fielder shouldn't be able to do this regardless. But, what we're potentially getting into here is trying to dictate where a fielder is allowed to be when receiving a throw and/or preparing to apply a tag. I don't think the rule book can possibly govern that.
I also don't think intent can be part of the equation. That is, did Beltre put his foot there with the intention of blocking the base? Is it obvious that the answer is yes to that question? I don't think so, but even if you do, is it not entirely possible to envision a scenario where the fielder moves his foot into the same position in the act of fielding the throw? Most importantly, though, do we really want to add a rule that requires the umpire to determine intent? There are a few such rules in the book right now, but it's my opinion these situations should be minimized, and I suspect most people would agree with me on that point.
So, where does this leave us? I think we can draw only one conclusion, and that's to say what Beltre did was completely within the rules, and it should remain that way.
Of course, I'm not trying to claim I'm in any way the final word on this subject. In fact, as I learned back in 2008 when I interviewed former Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School instructor, and operator of rulesofbaseball.com, Rick Roder, there are still sections of the rules that are gray enough that they're subject to different interpretations by different umpires. That fact remains a problem Major League Baseball has failed to address, but the obstruction rule does not fall into that category.
I'm really reaching for controversies here, but I guess that's kind of a good thing, right? In Part 1, I discussed the Victor Martinez HBP controversy from game two of the ALCS. In this post, I'm going to discuss a couple of potential controversies that occurred late in the NLCS and early in the World Series.
In the top of the 9th of Wednesday night's game one of the World Series, Adrian Beltre topped a grounder off his left toe. Or, so it seemed. The ball really didn't significantly change direction, and home plate umpire Jerry Layne ruled it a fair ball as Cardinals third baseman Daniel Descalso threw Beltre out at first for the second out of the inning.
Replays weren't exactly conclusive either, but Fox's new infrared view apparently showed the ball had nicked Beltre's toe. So, if the infrared evidence is considered reliable enough, this one could have been overturned.
But, what I also think instant replay proved was that Beltre's reaction was instantaneous. That is, he immediately reacted as if the ball had hit him. Since I don't think there are any major league players—except maybe Derek Jeter—who are that good at acting, and because I know umpires are trained to go on the reactions of players in such situations, I think the replay would have been enough to overturn the call and give Beltre's at bat new life.
Since there were no runners on base, but more importantly, since the potential reversal would result in a dead ball situation, this would have been an easy change to apply.
That one was easy, but I also want to go back a few days to game six of the NLCS. In the bottom of the 5th, with Carlos Gomez on third and no outs, Ryan Braun hit a slow bouncer to Albert Pujols at first. Pujols fielded the ball cleanly, but had to dive to tag Braun, who attempted a head-first slide into first. The ruling on the field was out, but one particular angle of the replay clearly showed Braun had beat the tag.
Since the runner from third had gone on contact, he had reached the plate by the time the play was made, so a reversal of the call would not have any effect on that outcome. The run would have scored whether Braun was safe or out. However, I'm going to play a little what-if game here.
The runner was Carlos Gomez, one of the fastest men in baseball. So, for the sake of example, let's suppose he was on first base instead of third, and that there were two outs instead of none. With the ball hit so slowly, it would not be out of the realm of possibility that the speedy Gomez would have rounded second and taken 2-3 steps toward third by the time the tag was applied on Braun. With Braun being called out—for the third out—in live action, there would be no reason for Pujols to concern himself with Gomez's attempted advance to third.
But, with the call being reversed after reviewing instant replay, the question would be, what to do with Gomez? There probably was no chance that Pujols, who had to dive to make the tag on Braun, would have been able to get back up and prevent Gomez from going to third, but the fact remains he was only a few steps past second at that moment. Is this another judgment the use of replay would force the umpires to make? This may not seem like a big issue, but once again, we're entering into dangerous territory here...settling one controversy, while potentially creating another.
I'm certainly not trying to throw a wet blanket over the concept of expanded use of instant replay in Major League Baseball. In fact, I'm 100% in favor of the idea. But, I suspect being able to work out all the potential complications that could be created, and to write these contingencies into the rule book, is a factor in how slow the commissioner's office has been to react.
OK, I'm going to come right out and admit it. This is a part one that may not have a part two. What I mean is I've decided to take a look at controversial calls in baseball's postseason and discuss what would have happened in various related scenarios had there been a system of expanded instant replay in place in Major League Baseball.
Or, perhaps there won't be a part two until next year. I guess we'll have to wait and see.
My first example wasn't really all that controversial in retrospect (it was made a moot point by Ryan Raburn's three-run homer that immediately followed), but it brought a manager out of the dugout, and was the subject of a question at the manager's post-game press conference, so that's enough for me.
In the top of the third inning of game two of the ALCS on Monday, a pitch appeared to hit Detroit's Victor Martinez in the foot. Well, at least by his reaction it did. But, it was initially unclear what the call was by home plate umpire Larry Vanover.
Vanover immediately appealed to first base umpire Jim Wolf to see if Martinez had swung at the pitch in question. My initial reaction was he had ruled Martinez was hit by the pitch, but had to determine if he'd swung or not (he hadn't) in order to decide if he should be awarded first base.
In hindsight, though, Vanover apparently did not rule it a hit by pitch. Amidst some confusion, Detroit's Miguel Cabrera came around to score from second as the ball got away from Texas catcher Mike Napoli.
The umpiring crew conferred and the play was ruled a hit by pitch, so Martinez was awarded first base and Cabrera had to return to second. Detroit manager Jim Leyland subsequently argued, and my initial reaction was he had no argument. His player—Martinez—by his body language had indicated the pitch hit him, and that was the ruling on the field. To me, at the time, Leyland was arguing because he decided a different outcome was more favorable to his team.
It wasn't until his post-game press conference that we learned what Leyland was complaining about. His beef, albeit a weak one, was he had never seen umpires confer to determine a hit by pitch. In the past, home plate umpires had always told him they couldn't get help on such a play, that other members of the crew would make the ruling immediately if they saw it.
But, back to the instant replay what-if scenarios. Assuming the initial ruling on the field was the ball had not hit Martinez and, most importantly, the play had not been ruled dead, the outcomes are pretty simple. If replay determines the ruling on the field was correct (i.e. no HBP), then all subsequent action is allowed. Martinez remains at the plate and Cabrera scores from second. If the replay ruling is it was an HBP, then the ruling is exactly what happened in the actual game: Martinez to first, Cabrera remains on second.
Things get complicated if the initial ruling on the field is that the pitch hit the batter. In that case, the play is ruled dead, and this makes it more difficult to correct if it is, in fact, an incorrect ruling. Obviously, if replay subsequently confirms the HBP call, Martinez gets first and Cabrera stays at second. But, if the replay determines the batter wasn't hit by the pitch, the question is what to do with Cabrera.
Assuming the play was ruled dead on the field, Cabrera's advance from second can't be allowed, no matter what the replay determination is. After all, the defense's efforts would have stopped when the ruling on the field was to call the play dead, so there is really no way to decide what would have happened otherwise.
This would be analogous to the fumble/no fumble ruling in football. In the NFL, if the whistle blows the play dead, there is no changing the call.
In our baseball example, however, the call would be changed from a hit by pitch to simply a ball, but the runner would have to stay on second. There's no way around that, in my opinion. I suppose the runner could be awarded a one-base advance in the umpire's judgment, assuming the ball legitimately got away from the catcher, but I think this would open up another can of worms. That is, using instant replay to get one call right, while creating another potentially debatable judgment call for the umpire to make.
While this is not the best example of such a play, it does point to the potential complications created by calls on the field resulting in the play being ruled dead. A foul ball that should have been ruled fair and a home run that shouldn't have been are a couple other examples.
Scenarios created by such situations will have to be worked out in order to make expanded use of instant replay in Major League Baseball an effective solution. I think it can be done, but it's just a little more difficult than most people think.
On a related note, one thing I would like to see is more explanation from the umpiring crew regarding calls requiring interpretations of rules that aren't common knowledge to fans. It's something they do in the NFL and, although I follow football much less than I do baseball, it seems to me NFL officials receive much less criticism than MLB umpires do.
Maybe a better understanding of some of the more controversial calls would help. I'm not suggesting this be done during the games, as in football, but perhaps requiring crew chiefs to explain such calls in post-game press conferences would be beneficial.
KJ and I attended our first Yankees-Red Sox game together on Wednesday night, and the occasion marked Little Chuck's introduction to the long-standing rivalry as well. Well, sort of.
It was also the first time I've paid to park in the Fenway neighborhood since my first visit there back in the summer of '88. Since KJ is under doctor's orders to take it easy, we decided to suck it up and shell out for parking at Fenway's most convenient location, the Lansdowne Street Garage. $44 later—and that's actually a competitive price, I kid you not—we arrived just across the street from the park.
This, of course, did nothing to change my perception of Fenway as the worst value in baseball, but in this case, it was well worth the price.
We also sat in the right field box seats for the first time ever, and they were actually pretty good seats by Fenway Park standards.
The game took place the night after the ridiculous Cervelli-Lackey fiasco, in which Francisco Cervelli broke the long-standing and well-known unwritten rule that dictates only pitchers—even when they're showing up their own teammates—are allowed to show emotion on the field. But, that's all I'm going to say about that incident. I may revisit it in another post, but don't count on it.
During the game, David Ortiz was intentionally walked in front of Jed Lowrie. The crowd, predictably, booed the move, prompting me to tweet:
Of course, this quick list was missing a couple other important examples that I thought of a little later.
So, since I'm soon to be a brand new parent, I thought I'd share my list of the five things you (and I) need to teach your (our) children about being a fan with a clue. Because, honestly, most fans at the ballpark are really lacking in that respect, and the Fenway faithful are no different from anywhere else.
Without further ado, I present these in my favorite list format...as a top five countdown, even if I've already given a few of them away. I suppose you could call these my unwritten rules of fandom (otherwise known as the top five stupidest things baseball fans do that you should avoid).
5. Don't boo the opposition's attempted pickoffs.
When you boo the opposing pitcher for attempting to pick off your runner, you're basically complaining that the other team is trying to win. I know you're rooting for your team to win, but this is supposed to be a competition. I can, however, understand booing an excessive number of pickoff attempts against the same runner. I guess that's why this one is #5.
4. Don't boo when the opposing team makes a pitching change.
Again, what you're doing here is protesting the fact the other team is trying to win. I get that pitching changes drag out the length of the game, but if you're going to be a baseball fan, it's something you'll have to learn to deal with. Besides, if you're frustrated that the game is being delayed, why don't you boo your own team when they change pitchers?
3. Don't boo when one of your players is intentionally walked.
First of all, the intentional walk is generally a foolish strategy. This is not intended to be post about SABRmetrics, so I'm not going to over-analyze this one, but more often than not, the intentional walk improves the offensive team's chance of winning. So, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, alright. Also, since your opposition at least thinks they're doing it for their own benefit, see #4 and #5 above.
2. Don't yell "balk" at things that aren't balks.
First of all, you'll need a lesson about what is and isn't a balk. I once wrote a post—exactly three years ago today, in fact—that my pal Lee called the ultimate blog entry on balks. But, that's a little more detail than is necessary here. What I'm really talking about is when fans call for a balk when the pitcher fakes a move to second or third. News flash, folks...THIS IS NOT A BALK. It's legal for a pitcher to fake a pickoff throw to second or third, but not to first. OK, got that? I'm not even going to confuse you by explaining when it's legal to fake a throw to first. Concentrate on understanding this difference first.
1. Don't do the wave.
If I even need to explain this one, then I'm sorry, but you're a hopeless cause and probably shouldn't have little baseball fans in the first place.
Oh yeah, the Red Sox beat the Yankees 9-5, so our family tally now stands at Red Sox 1, Yankees 0...obviously.
It looks like I've got some blog catching up to do.
On Friday night, May 27, KJ and I attended our first game at Campanelli Stadium, home of the Brockton Rox of the independent Canadian-American Association of Professional Baseball, otherwise known as the Can-Am League.
I've got a bit of a history with independent minor league baseball. In 1995, I tried out for an umpiring position with the brand new North Atlantic League, and was selected as an alternate. Unfortunately, due to financial issues, the league released all of its umpires and decided to go with local officials mid-way through that first season, so I never got the call to work a game. Not surprisingly, the league disbanded after only two years in existence.
My pal Fred, whom I met at umpire school, was also one of the alternates in that inaugural North Atlantic League season. Following this unsuccessful venture, he went on to work close to ten years in the Northeast League, which eventually became what is now the Can-Am League.
I saw Fred work games in small cities such as Newburgh (NY), Waterbury (CT), Nashua (NH) and Lynn (MA), three of which are sometimes known as the armpit of their respective states. My main observation regarding the crowds in these cities are that they can sometimes be a little less than civil. That's possibly a spillover from the on-field action, as the lack of affiliation with a major league organization generally makes for a less professional contest. Not in terms of the quality of play, but instead with regard to the way the players carry themselves on the field.
Neither of these prior impressions were confirmed by my first taste of Can-Am League action. The size of the crowd—2017, or about 1/3 the capacity of the 6000-seat stadium—wasn't all that impressive, but there was a definite family/community feel to the atmosphere. I've also learned to appreciate that the between-innings games and promotions are part of the experience when it comes to the minor leagues.
On this particular night, my favorite was the "Pie-In-The-Face Game," which basically consisted of a 5-year old three times being offered the choice between a prize in an envelope/box or hitting his father in the face with a pie. Not surprisingly, he chose the pie in the face every time. In the end, though, quite predictably he was awarded the prizes anyway.
As far as the baseball was concerned, the Can-Am League claims to be AA-quality baseball. While there were a couple errors—both by Brockton's opponent, the Worcester Tornadoes—and a few more mental lapses during the game, I'd have to say this is a fair assessment.
The offensive talent is definitely there, as evidenced by the three home runs the two teams combined for. That kind of hitting display is something you almost never see in the short-A New York-Penn League, because the players at that level just haven't developed enough power yet, particularly due to the adjustment to wooden bats. Of course, the exception was the four homers Evan Longoria hit in just eight games for Hudson Valley back in 2006.
The Rox defeated Worcester 7-5, in what was the second game of a season-opening four-game sweep en route to an 8-1 start. They've since lost four of five games, including three of four to the Quebec Capitales, the Can-Am League's two-time defending champions.
At 9-5 prior to tonight's game, Brockton finds themselves tied for second place with this weekend's opponent, the Newark Bears, with both teams trailing first-place Quebec by a half game.
Newark is managed by none other than Tim Raines—his son is also on the team and one of the league's major hitting stars—so we'll definitely be checking out some of this weekend's action. Of course, you know Brockton has a pretty noteworthy—especially in these parts—skipper of their own.
I'm sure some of the exorbitantly priced seats at the new Yankee Stadium could give them a run for their money, but it doesn't get much worse than the vantage point KJ and I had for last night's game.
For $55 per ticket, here was our view of the on-field action:
Click to enlarge
Actually, since KJ was sitting one seat to my right, she could just barely see the batter, but not the catcher or the umpire.
But, there was a silver lining.
During the second inning, we discovered that we were sitting in the wrong row, and our real seats were one row closer to the field. As you can see from the next photo, this made a significant difference:
Click to enlarge
Seriously, though, this isn't the only reason I'm suggesting Fenway Park is worthy of this dubious distinction. Prior to the game, I was telling KJ that the stadium's right field boxes are the absolute worst seats I've ever witnessed a game from.
For an idea of what I'm talking about, take a look a sections 91 and 92 on the Fenway Park Seating and Pricing page. As you view the field from the photo provided on the web site, note the direction of the seats, which I'll point out are beyond the right field foul pole (otherwise known as "Pesky's Pole"). They're facing directly into the right field corner. Now, try to imagine how your neck would feel at the conclusion of that game.
These seats go for $52 a pop.
But, these are just my observations, and I'm certainly not trying to say that last night wasn't an enjoyable night at the ballpark. The weather was perfect, Philip Humber—bullpen support not withstanding—delivered almost as brilliant a performance as John Danks did the last time we saw a White Sox game, and we were lucky enough to witness former Yankee Alfredo Aceves's second career loss, against 16 wins.
Since an unusual play occurred during the game, I'll revisit what I've previously referred to as the "baseball lesson of the day."
In the home half of the 5th, Carl Crawford singled with nobody out. The next batter, Jed Lowrie, lofted a fly ball to center field, but Crawford was running on the pitch. He returned to first easily, but was called out when White Sox shortstop Alexei Ramirez appealed by stepping on second base.
It took me a few seconds to figure out what happened, but when asked by the girl sitting to my left, the explanation was that Crawford, after sliding into second, had taken a step towards third. This action subsequently required him to retouch second on his way back to first, something he neglected to do. Therefore, he was out on appeal.
For the third consecutive year, I'm writing about umpiring controversies in Major League Baseball's postseason. The playoffs are only two days old, and already there have been four calls that are being talked about, and instant replay is—once again—a hot topic.
Unfortunately, two of the four calls being discussed cannot be addressed by the expanded use of instant replay. Those calls, of course, involved the non-strike call on Lance Berkman in game two of the Yankees-Twins series and the check swing call on Michael Young in game two of the Rangers-Rays series. Now, I suppose a check swing ruling could be reviewed, but I'm going to assume this falls into the category of ball-strike calls and—rightfully so—will not be considered reviewable.
So, let's focus on the two plays that potentially could have been reversed by the use of instant replay. Those plays are the Greg Golson catch/no-catch in game one of the Yankees-Twins series, and the stolen base attempt by Buster Posey in game one of the Braves-Giants series. The former had no impact on the game's outcome, while the latter controversial call led to the only run scored in a 1-0 Giants victory, although Tim Lincecum's masterful two-hit, one-walk, 14-strikeout performance probably played a part as well.
Both plays involved situations in which the calls could have been overturned seamlessly. In the case of the no-catch ruling on the Golson play, changing the on-field ruling would have resulted in the final out of the game, so there's no problem there. In the case of the steal attempt by Posey, since he was the only runner on base at the time, ruling him out rather than safe would have had no impact on any other action.
What I'm working up to here is that not all situations are going to be as easy. There are going to be instances when overturning the ruling on the field would be much more complicated, possibly to the point of not allowing the play to be reviewable.
The best way to illustrate this is with an example. Suppose there are runners at second and third, with one out, and a sinking line drive is hit in the direction of the second baseman. The umpire rules a catch as the second baseman gloves the ball, then fires to second in an attempt to double off the runner, but the throw is wild and deflects off the shortstop's glove into left-center field. Both runners score on the play, leaving the bases empty, two outs and two runs in.
The play is reviewed and the on-field call is overturned, as replays show the second baseman actually trapped the ball. What happens next? He never would have thrown to second had the initial ruling been that he had not caught the ball in the air, so you can't allow both runners to score. But, you also can't assume that he would have thrown the runner out at first, especially considering he threw wild to second. So, there's really nothing that can be done, in this case, to correct the umpire's mistake.
This is just one example, and plays like the one I've described here might not be all that common. But, this points to the fact that some calls are not going to be reversible. Given that it's important to be able to define such situations, this also underscores that such definitions aren't always that easy. This is a catch/no-catch call just as the previous Golson example is, but one that is much more complicated.
So, while I'm in favor of the expanded use of instant replay—not just for the postseason, but during the regular season as well—it's just not as easy as many would have you believe. Far be it from me to be a Bud Selig defender, but I feel this is why Major League Baseball has been slow to continue progress in this area.
I also believe, however, that they'll figure it out. I'll continue to be working on my solution. Who knows? Maybe I'll come up with a proposal that is worthy of being sent to the commissioner's office.
I wasn't going to bother giving my two cents on last week's baseball umpiring controversy, but since an old friend—a latecomer who's become a baseball fan in his 40s—asked me over the weekend, I thought I'd write something about it.
Even if you're not a fan, you probably heard that a missed call by umpire Jim Joyce cost Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga a perfect game last Wednesday. In a post-game press conference, Joyce admitted that he had blown the call, he and Galarraga appear to be at peace with each other, and commissioner Bud Selig has vowed to look at expanded use of instant replay in Major League Baseball.
For the record, I'm in favor of the latter, but only if they use it to actually get calls right, unlike the one that referees blatantly failed to overturn late in Sunday night's NBA Finals Game 2. But, instant replay is not what this post is about.
It's about the high level of integrity displayed by Joyce for not making an out call based on the fact that the pitcher was one out from a perfect game. His job is not to take the circumstances into consideration. It’s to make a call based on what he sees—in this case, safe or out. He was wrong, and he admitted it. It was a bad call, and it’s unfortunate that it happened under such circumstances. But, he’s human, and the rest of us should be happy that our mistakes don’t get the exposure that his did. All those folks calling for him to call that runner out simply because he should give the pitcher the benefit of the doubt in that situation simply don't have the integrity that Joyce does.
Another perfect game was lost under somewhat similar circumstances in 1972. One strike away from immortality, Chicago Cubs pitcher Milt Pappas walked San Diego Padres pinch-hitter Larry Stahl on a 3-2 pitch. Home plate umpire Bruce Froemming called the pitch a ball, and Pappas agrees with him that it was outside, but still contends that Froemming should have given him the call, and unbelievably still blames the umpire for the fact that he's only credited with a no-hitter and not a perfect game.
Pappas, of course, doesn't own a fraction of the integrity that Froemming and Joyce do, and that became clearer in the days since Galarraga's near perfect gem, when he once again used the media exposure to complain about something that happened 38 years ago. At least, judging by his in-the-moment and post-game reactions, we can be pretty certain that Galarraga's not going to take this one to the grave like it appears Pappas will. That's probably because he simply has more integrity than his older counterpart.
An electronic sign at U.S. Cellular Field declares its namesake as the exclusive cellular provider of the Chicago White Sox. Little did I know that meant my service, purchased in a market that U.S. Cell doesn't compete in, would be rendered useless. While I can't say for certain that they're actually blocking other carriers, or if it's just that my cell provider doesn't cover the area as well as, say San Francisco, it seems pretty suspicious.
But, I digress. Not only was "The Cell" the third park KJ and I have visited together in our one-year history of traveling to baseball games as a couple, it was the 10th current park I've visited more than once (Fenway Park, Yankee Stadium, Camden Yards, Rogers Centre, Progressive Field, PNC Park, Wrigley Field, AT&T Park, Oakland Coliseum). If not for the Twins leaving the Metrodome in favor of Target Field, that would have equaled the number of current parks I've yet to visit.
When Brian and I visited what was then called New Comiskey back in 1998, we weren't terribly impressed with the aesthetics of the park. That opinion hasn't changed 12 years later. Don't get me wrong, this is no Veterans Stadium, but opened one year prior to Camden Yards, it's just not as nice as its contemporaries.
While the photo may not give you enough of an impression, you'll have to either take my word for it or see for yourself. The place just doesn't have a lot of character. But, that doesn't tell the whole story either. The sight lines could be significantly improved if the seats were turned about 15 degrees towards the on-field action, something that has worked well with other parks built in the late 20th and early 21st Centuries.
There were positives, however. The rows in our section, and those around us, were only 8-10 seats wide. As a result, there was only one time during an entire nine-inning game that we had to get up to let our fellow patrons pass. If you've ever been to Fenway, you certainly would understand the importance of this factor.
Also, there were numerous concessions options beyond the standard fare. Of course, my mind was fixated on Chicago-style hot dogs, and I wasn't disappointed in the foot long I found, which was topped with sweet pickle relish, tomato wedges, pickle spears, sport peppers, mustard and onions. KJ opted for the smaller version, but I think she ended up regretting that decision. We were both surprised there was only one stand in the entire park that sold these wonderful creations, but we quickly figured out why once we sat down to eat them. A photo would have been a nice idea here, but you'll have to use your imagination to understand how difficult it was to eat a hot dog that looked like it had been "dragged through the garden."
The beer selection was comparable to that at most Midwestern parks. That is, the options were mostly of the American lager variety—Chicago’s proximity to Milwaukee makes it clearly a Miller town—with a couple of decent, if not spectacular, micro-brewed choices as well. We opted for the Wisconsin-brewed Leinenkugel's Classic Amber, which was solid, but nothing special. I was a little disappointed that there wasn't a single beer brewed in Chicago available at the game, leading me further to the conclusion that this is not a craft beer city. I may or may not be correct in that assumption, but the following day I would discover the place that, in the very least, is the exception. More on that in a later post.
The White Sox were hosting the Tampa Bay Rays, a team that was fresh off a Patriots' Day weekend sweep of a four-game series in Boston. Apparently, a masterful performance from John Danks is what it would take to slow down the hottest team in baseball. The Chicago lefthander shrugged off a first-inning solo homer by Carl Crawford, then proceeded to hold the Rays hitless for the next 5 1/3 innings until Crawford's swinging bunt single in the 6th. His impressive outing (8 IP, 2 H, 1 ER, 2 BB, 9 SO) was more than enough to lead the White Sox to a 4-1 victory, in a game that lasted just two hours and 22 minutes with none other than Joe West behind the plate.
A few other items worth noting from Tuesday night's game:
It was immediately clear that it was Jackie Robinson Day at U.S. Cellular Field, this being the Sox first home game since April 11. A group of kids spotted outside the stadium, wearing White Sox shirts with #42 on the back, was our first clue.
The White Sox are one of those home teams whose dugout is on the third base side. I believe I've already written about how much KJ dislikes this.
We laughed at the song that was played every time Gordon Beckham came to bat: "Your Love" by The Outfield. I'm not sure why we found it so funny to hear "Josie's on a vacation far away, come around and talk it over," over and over.
Baseball lesson of the day: "One from the mound, two from the field," is the common phrase used to remember how many bases are allowed on a throw that goes out of play: one base if the throw is by the pitcher from the rubber, two if the throw is from any other fielder, including the pitcher while off the rubber. All base awards are from the time of the throw.
Back when I was playing intramural softball in college, there was a situation that involved a rule that, surprisingly, very few people seem to be aware of.
I was on third base with less than two outs, and the batter hit a routine fly ball to left field. It was easily deep enough, so I tagged up and scored on the play. However, the left fielder bobbled the ball, giving the impression that I hadn't tagged up properly, because technically I left the base before he completed the catch.
Our opponents appealed the play, and I was called out, as my teammates offered words of consolation, indicating that it was a tough break that the fielder bobbled the ball. But, I knew better.
I took up my case with the umpire, informing him that the runner is entitled to leave his base as soon as the ball is touched by the fielder. Unbelievably, he pulled out the rule book, looked it up, and changed his ruling. If I recall correctly, we were winning by five or so runs in the final innings of the game, so it didn't turn out to be a pivotal call. But, of course, I felt kind of smug about it.
Obviously, the rules of professional baseball and amateur softball are not identical, but I'm positive the baseball rule is the same. Interestingly enough, I can't locate this technicality in the major league rule book. Here's what I found:
7.08 Any runner is out when—
(d) He fails to retouch his base after a fair or foul ball is legally caught before he, or his base, is tagged by a fielder.
7.10 Any runner shall be called out, on appeal, when—
(a) After a fly ball is caught, he fails to retouch his original base before he or his original base is tagged.
Neither rule makes mention of any exception to the requirement that the runner wait until the ball is caught before leaving the base. This, of course, is another example of the confusion caused by the vagueness of the rule book. Regardless, I know I'm right, and this has been confirmed by a few subsequent experiences. Besides, if a fielder could bobble a ball and fake a runner into leaving a base early, why wouldn't it be a more common occurrence?
This one seems like a no-brainer, but it's happened so seldomly over the course of my 30-something years as a player, spectator and umpire that I'm not sure if the scenario has crossed most people's minds. So, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that, each time this has occurred, there have been witnesses who were fooled into thinking that the runner was guilty of leaving early and, therefore, out on appeal. As far as you're concerned, if you didn't know this already, now you won't need to see it to believe it.
A couple of the umpiring controversies from this postseason, as well as last year's, got me to thinking about a post I originally planned to do over a year ago. Unless you're new here, you probably know that I attended Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School in 1994. My "dream" to become a professional baseball umpire died pretty quickly after that, but this and my 10+ years of umpiring experience give me a slightly different perspective than your average fan and/or amateur player.
So, the idea is to write about common baseball rules misconceptions. That is, interpretations of rules that, over the years, have come to be considered common knowledge, despite the fact that they may or may not be correct.
The first of these is possibly the most earth-shattering. Maybe you've heard the phrase "tie goes to the runner" a time or two before. Well, it's not true. First of all, the word "tie" isn't even mentioned in the rule book, except in reference to the score of a game. But, you probably knew that, and you probably could guess that no experienced umpire would ever use that as the reason to rule a runner safe, anyway. What you probably don't know is that, according to the rule book, whether or not a tie goes to the runner or the fielder actually depends on the circumstance.
I'll start with the situation that confirms our long-standing belief. Rule 6.05(j) states, "A batter is out when...after a third strike or after he hits a fair ball, he or first base is tagged before he touches first base." The requirement that he or first base must be tagged before he reaches means that if the two events occur at the same time, the requirement is not satisfied. Therefore, he's not out. So, in this example, he's safe in the case of a tie.
However, rule 7.08(e) states, "Any runner is out when...he fails to reach the next base before a fielder tags him or the base, after he has been forced to advance by reason of the batter becoming a runner." The requirement here is that he reaches the base before he or the base is tagged. Therefore, if the two events happen at the same time, the runner has failed to reach base before the tag, and he is out. So, in the case of a force play on a runner other than the batter-runner, according to the rules, the tie goes to the defensive team.
Now that I've covered the force plays, and thoroughly confused the issue, I still need to address tag plays. Well, rule 7.08(c) declares that, "Any runner is out when...he is tagged, when the ball is alive, while off his base." So, if he reaches the base at the same time as he is tagged, then he is not off base. Therefore, he is safe. In this case, once again, tie goes to the runner.
In two of the three relevant circumstances, tie does, in fact, go to the runner. However, this hardly reinforces our accepted understanding. So, does "tie goes to the runner" hold true, or does it really depend on the circumstances? Further muddying the issue is MLB.com's Ask the Umpire page. When asked about this particular rule, the umpire responds, "There are no ties and there is no rule that says the tie goes to the runner. But the rule book does say that the runner must beat the ball to first base, and so if he doesn't beat the ball, then he is out." This umpire is clearly wrong, unless the wording of the rule has been changed since this Q&A was written. The umpire in question, incidentally, is none other than Tim McClelland.
I do recall, though, being taught that the exception to the "tie goes to the runner" concept—so worded because I would be incorrect to call it a rule—is the play on the batter-runner at first base. That backs up what McClelland says, so maybe I shouldn't be too quick to rush to judgment by saying he's flat-out wrong. But, the phrasing of the rule book does not reinforce my memory.
So, where does this leave us, and what wisdom do I think I'm imparting on my readers? That is, if any of them are still reading at this point. I guess it's that "tie goes to the runner" is a myth, and if anyone uses that phrase in your presence, you're now fully prepared to call them out on it.
Since it's the playoffs, and there was a controversial call this past weekend that wasn't strictly about the umpire's judgment, I thought I should chime in on the issue. Saturday night's ALCS game two call by umpire Jerry Layne on Erick Aybar's double-play-that-wasn't had the potential to result in serious controversy. Well, since the call went in favor of the hated Yankees, there probably will still be a lot of conspiracy theory discussion, but fortunately, it turned out to have no noticeable effect on the outcome of the game.
Layne was roundly criticized by FOX commentators Joe Buck and Tim McCarver for not allowing the "neighborhood play" on a potential 10th inning double play. The problem with the so-called neighborhood play is that, since there's no specific definition, the amount of leeway each umpire is willing to give would have to vary. To illustrate this by exaggeration, if Aybar had caught the flip from second baseman Maicer Izturis two feet from the bag, and clearly did not touch the base as he followed through to make the throw, I don't think any umpire would have given him the call. However, is it possible that one umpire would give a few more inches margin for error than another? Of course it is.
If we asked them, no major league umpire would admit that such a neighborhood play exists, but it may very well be that Layne gives the call as long as he doesn't see daylight between the foot and the bag. Of course, we'll never know. But, what we do know is that "in the neighborhood of the base" is not as easily defined as "touching the base."
Due to these potentially significant inconsistencies, I contend that the neighborhood play is a myth. The origin of the term is likely unknown, but its use certainly has been perpetuated by the sports media. Having been to professional baseball umpire school myself, I honestly don't recall how we were instructed to handle these calls. What I do know is that a major philosophy of umpiring is self-preservation.
Self-preservation, in this context, means not going out on a limb when it's unnecessary. Could Layne have gotten away with calling the runner out in this particular circumstance? Probably. So, did he go further out on the limb than he had to? Most likely. Did he properly define the unwritten rule that is commonly referred to as the neighborhood play? There's really no answer to that question.
The call that went against the Angels in last year's ALDS probably wasn't as controversial as I contended it should have been. Ironically, this call was much more controversial than it had the right to be, particularly considering it technically was the correct call. Fortunately, though, the call didn't result in a second consecutive year that this Angels team was potentially robbed by a strangely controversial call.
The 11 runs they scored in the first two innings were really all our opponent would need on Thursday night to hand us our first loss of the season. But, trailing 11-0 after two innings and making a game of it is a bit of a moral victory, in that we showed—to ourselves, that is—that we weren't going to allow a rough start to completely frustrate us. Personally, I was a hard-luck 1-for-4, bringing my stats to 6-for-11 with three walks on the season.
In my discussion of our last game, I touched on the subject of strikeouts, which turned out to be a pretty significant issue in this game. After I grounded out to start the game, Ryan suffered the unfortunate indignity of striking out looking...and he knew it. In fact, he said he thought the pitch was going to be inside, and I recalled that, only a few pitches earlier, a gust of wind had blown a ball outside that looked like it was going to be in the strike zone.
The penalty for striking out looking is to buy the team a case of imported beer, which is supposed to be an upgrade over the usual 30-pack of Bud Light, but isn't necessarily in my book. I guess, if you put a gun to my head, I'd choose 24 Heinekens over 30 Buds. I'm considering looking at a strike three myself so that I can buy a case of Dogfish IPA, which isn't imported, of course, but I'm sure would qualify, although I'm not sure that it would be a huge hit.
We're going to have our work cut out for us when the weather gets better and the team starts hanging out in the parking lot after games, because Ryan's backwards K wasn't the only strikeout of the night. In fact, one teammate struck out twice, although it was swinging both times, and another fouled out to the catcher...which is considered on the same level as a strikeout. So, that's three 30-packs and one imported case that we have coming to us.
I was involved in another double play tonight, although it was more a case of good fortune than anything else. There were runners on first and second, with one out. I was playing second base—the only position I've played so far this year despite the utility role I've filled in years past—when a sinking line drive was hit towards me that I gloved, but didn't catch cleanly, just a few inches off the ground. I immediately threw the ball to our shortstop, who was covering second. The runners were really confused, as was everyone else, including the umpire. Rhino caught the throw—I believe while standing on second, a very important detail—tagged the runner who had returned to second thinking I would catch the liner, and tagged the runner coming from first, for good measure.
Like I said, everyone was confused, including me, to be completely honest. But, I pumped my fist and tried to sell it as a double play as I started to run off the field. This may or may not have worked, but the end result was that the umpire called both runners out.
Now, here's the important part of this lesson. If Rhino is standing on second base when he receives my throw, the runner from first is out, and the runner from second is no longer forced to go to third. So, if he's standing on the base when tagged, he's not out. But, if it happens the other way around—that is, if Rhino tags the runner from second, whether he's on the base or not, then tags the base—it’s a double play.
Personally, I think the umpire got this call wrong, and probably could have figured out how to get it right if he had taken a half-minute to think about what had just happened. But, even Rhino couldn't remember the sequence of events a few minutes after the play was over, so it was somewhat understandable.
I never thought of it this way, but our sponsor really has a vested interest in our success. No, I don't mean the huge trophy that would be displayed in the bar if won the championship, but the fact that the more times we go down on strikes, the less time and money we spend at the Goal Post.
Before I wrote Voluntary Release II, I had placed a call to Rick Roder, one of the co-authors of the Jaksa/Roder Manual, and operator of the web site Rules of Baseball.com. I would certainly have understood if he wanted to steer clear of this recent controversy, but he did return my call last week, and spoke very candidly with me for about 30 minutes. Rick was very cooperative and his insights clarified this issue as much as possible, as far as I'm concerned.
The main point I came away with from this conversation is this play clearly exposed a deficiency in the rule book, and this is an area where there potentially is a disagreement among umpires. Rick clarified that the Jaksa/Roder Manual's interpretation of the rule book is not official, and Welke apparently chose to interpret the rule differently. He also stated, while he believes his own interpretation to be correct, Welke's call was not technically wrong.
It seems to me, from my discussion with Roder, this is a rule interpretation that will be discussed by the Major League Baseball Playing Rules Committee in the off-season and, very likely, clarified. He also raised my awareness to the possibility that, even if the Jaksa/Roder interpretation becomes official, this does not necessarily condemn the ruling Welke made. If this occurs, it most likely will be determined his call was technically correct at the time, but the tag requirement will become more stringent going forward.
The conclusion I draw from this is it reinforces the point I made in the final paragraph of my last article on this subject. That is, the most important thing that needs to come out of this is Major League Baseball's clarification of this rule. I still feel, had Welke not taken his eyes off the ball, he may have seen this one differently, and for that reason, it was a serious mistake for him not to ask for help. More importantly, I think MLB dismissed this too easily and not convincingly, and I'm not sure why. But, at this point, I have nothing more to say on this subject.
This is a summary of the issues surrounding the play I first wrote about right after it happened on Monday night. This also provides an overview of the somewhat controversial and elusive rule interpretation of voluntary release that doesn't seem to have received the attention it deserves. Since I've already covered some of the issues here, this is a slightly abridged version of an article I wrote for Seamheads.com.
The play, of course, involved the Angels' botched squeeze play in the top of the 9th of game four of the American League Division Series, a game the Red Sox eventually won 3-2 to advance to their ALCS matchup with the Tampa Bay Rays. With the scored tied 2-2, Reggie Willits on third base with one out, and Erick Aybar at the plate, the Angels attempted to squeeze home the go-ahead run. But, Aybar whiffed at a Manny Delcarmen offering, and Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek ran Willits back to third base. Just before Willits reached third, Varitek lunged and tagged him, falling to the ground in the process.
With the ball securely and firmly (remember those words) in Varitek's glove, he tagged Willits while he was clearly off the base. But, in the process of making the tag, Varitek's momentum caused him to fall to the ground on his left elbow. As soon as said elbow hit the ground, the ball squirted out of his glove, but umpire Tim Welke had already called Willits out. However, Welke had momentarily taken his eyes off the ball, focusing instead on the spot where the tag had occurred, and didn't actually see the ball come out of Varitek's glove. He immediately turned his head, though, and, witnessing the ball on the ground, reinforced his call by indicating the runner was out again. Angels' manager Mike Scioscia came out to argue, but was rebuked by Welke, and surprisingly didn't seem to put up much of a fight. Welke, despite the fact he didn't actually witness Varitek lose control of the ball, inexplicably didn't ask for help on the play.
I explained the concept of voluntary release, to some extent, in Monday's post. In the Official Rules of Major League Baseball, Rule 2.00 covers the definition of terms. Since I already provided the rule book's definition of "catch" and "tag" there, I'm not going to repeat them in this post.
People seem to want to use football analogies when discussing this play, but the voluntary release requirement means football analogies don't apply. There's no "a ground can't cause a fumble", nor does how many feet you get down have any relevance. The only thing that matters is whether or not the fielder is able to release the ball, from his glove or hand, voluntarily and intentionally. Most often, this involves removing the ball from the glove with the throwing hand. Voluntary release is the reason why, when an infielder loses control of the ball while in the act of removing it from his glove in turning a double play, the out still counts. The act of pulling the ball out of the glove is voluntary release.
The question here is whether or not voluntary release applies to the tag play. The definitions in the rule book refers to the concept as a requirement of the catch but says nothing about it in the definition of the tag. Since Varitek held the ball securely and firmly in his glove at the time of the tag, this one is pretty cut and dried, right? Not necessarily. In addition to the rule book, there exists a much more detailed manual, titled "Rules of Professional Baseball: A Comprehensive Re-Organization and Clarification", written by former minor league umpires and Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School instructors Chris Jaksa and Rick Roder, to deal with the countless vagaries in said rule book. This manual is widely used in umpire instruction at the professional and amateur levels.
The manual clarifies the definition of a tag in Rule 2.00 of the Official Rules, which fails to deal with action that occurs after the tag, with the following interpretation (from the 2008 edition, which is slightly different from the wording I provided on Monday):
"Catch" and "tag" are similar concepts. A tag [2.00] occurs when the ball is live and a fielder has the ball in his hand or glove (or both) and:
a. a base is touched by his person, or
b. a runner is touched by any part of the glove/ball, hand/ball, or glove/hand/ball combination.
Such fielder must have complete control of the ball during and after the touch. If the fielder bobbles or drops the ball during or after the touch of the base or runner, and the bobble or drop is due to his lack of control of himself or the ball, or due to contact with a runner, it is not a tag. A fielder shows complete control by:
a. regaining control of his own body after extenuating efforts to make a tag (especially in regard to a fall, dive, or a collision), and
b. showing that his release of the ball is (or will be) voluntary and intentional.
A fielder need not regain control of his body if he is able to voluntarily release the ball; the voluntary release alone is proof of complete control.
The two conditions of showing complete control are what's important here. Since Varitek fell and dropped the ball upon the impact of his elbow with the ground, he neither regained control of his own body nor showed voluntarily and intentional release of the ball. Therefore, he failed to satisfy the requirements of a tag. According to the Jaksa/Roder manual, that is.
So, at the very least, this leaves the issue in an extremely gray area. The interpretation offered by the Jaksa/Roder manual clearly indicates the call was incorrect. Varitek did not show complete control during and after the tag, so Willits should have been ruled safe. But, Steve Palermo, Major League supervisor of umpires, defended the call, although in very unconvincing fashion, choosing instead to refute the "ground can't cause a fumble" football analogy by saying, "That's the NFL. We don't have that in baseball. He had possession of the ball when he made the tag." Palermo's statement uses none of the important rule book terminology, so instead of clarifying, it leaves the issue still open to interpretation.
I'll briefly add my opinion on this here, something I didn't do in the Seamheads article. My inclination is to believe the Jaksa/Roder manual is correct, since the interpretation it offers intends to elaborate on and clarify what exists in the rule book. The same interpretation existed in the 1992 edition that I own a copy of, and 16 years later, the wording was slightly different, but the interpretation was the same. This leads me to believe this has been the accepted view of this issue for years, but since the rule book definition remains vague, it's possible even major league umpires are divided on this one.
The issue boils down to one specific and easily answerable question. Does the voluntary release requirement apply to a tag play as it does to a catch? If the answer is no, then Bill Welke was correct and the controversy is settled. If the answer is yes, then the call was wrong and that fact needs to be admitted. Major League Baseball has a recent history of coming clean in such situations. But, in this case, MLB officials appear to have dismissed this as a non-controversy when, in fact, there is considerable evidence to the contrary. Obviously, as far as the Angels-Red Sox ALDS matchup is concerned, the answer to this question will have no effect on its outcome. However, it's important for the rest of us -- the fans, players, managers, coaches, and, most importantly, the umpires -- to know, so that this particular gray area becomes black or white in the future.
I'm not talking about the armed forces here. Of course, this is about baseball, and the fact that I've never seen a bigger blown call in such an important game. It's one thing watching Don Denkinger miss what is strictly a judgment call in the 1985 World Series, but what happened tonight was a rule interpretation, was totally obvious, and easily correctable.
Most people don't know this--the announcers clearly didn't--but, after making a catch or applying a tag, a fielder must show voluntary release of the ball in completing the catch or tag. On the blown squeeze play tonight, Jason Varitek made the tag on Reggie Willits at third, but the ball came loose when his elbow hit the ground. He clearly did not release the ball voluntarily, and there is no question that the third-base umpire couldn't possibly have seen it this way.
I'm surprised that Mike Scioscia didn't know this, because if he had, it would have been a no-brainer for him to ask the umpire to get help in interpreting the rule. Additionally, based on Major League Baseball's relatively new philosophy of making sure to get the call right, I can't understand why the crew chief didn't automatically call for a conference on this one.
I'm now waiting for someone to point out the mistake. It's been 14 years since I went to umpire school, and I still remember this, so I'm completely flabbergasted that it seems I'm the only one who knows the correct interpretation of this rule. The fact that no one else seems to know has me questioning whether or not I'm mistaken, but I don't think I am.
Updated 10/7/08 @ 12:36AM: Apparently, MLB's Director of Umpires says that the ruling was correct because Varitek had the ball firmly in his glove when applying the tag. Rule 2.00 defines a tag as "...the action of a fielder in...touching a runner with the ball, or with his hand or glove holding the ball, while holding the ball securely and firmly in his hand or glove."
In the same section of the rules, the definition of a catch has the added stipulation that "In establishing the validity of the catch, the fielder shall hold the ball long enough to prove that he has complete control of the ball and that his release of the ball is voluntary and intentional."
So, maybe I'm wrong, but my understanding is that the accepted interpretation (the baseball equivalent of case law) is the same principle applies to the tag as to the catch. However, that opinion does not seem to be reinforced by the Director of Umpires or the wording of the rule book. I'm still not convinced, but maybe I'll back off on my statement that this is the most blatant blown call in an important game that I've ever seen. For now, that is. Stay tuned on this one.
Updated 10/7/08 @ 7:13PM: On "Mike and Mike in the Morning" today, Dave Campbell, about six minutes into an interview that you can listen to on ESPN.com, states "...there's a rule book, and then there's the case book. It's very difficult to get a hold of the case book." Well, I have a copy of the case book, or at least the Brinkman/Froemming Umpire School's version of it, which is titled "Rules of Professional Baseball: A Comprehensive Re-Organization and Clarification", Fourth Edition. My copy of this edition is last updated in 1992, so unless the interpretation has changed since, here's what it says:
"Catch" and "tag" are similar concepts. A tag occurs when the ball is live and a fielder has the ball in his hand or glove (or both) and:
(a) a base is touched by his person or (b) a runner is touched by any part of the glove/ball or hand/ball combination.
Such fielder must show complete control of the ball during and after the touch, and show this control by voluntarily releasing the ball. If, during or after the touch and before voluntary release has been shown, the ball is bobbled or dropped, it is not a tag.
I'm assuming that, if you've read this far, you saw the game and the play last night. That being the case, I'm sure you can decide for yourself. Did Varitek voluntarily release the ball when his elbow hit the ground?
I guess the real question here is what interpretation of the rule is correct? I honestly thought that the case book I possess contains the accepted interpretations of what is a very vague rule book. But, I really don't know. All I know is, whatever the answer, it has no bearing on the outcome of last night's game. However, I still want to know the answer to the question of does the principle of voluntary release apply to a tag play? The answer to this question would make it abundantly clear whether or not last night's ruling was, in fact, the correct one.
Since I never updated this, here are the 14 ways to balk that I came up with in my August 21 post:
The pitcher...
Hesitates, or stops, in his delivery to home plate.
While in contact with the rubber, fakes a pickoff throw to first base.
Steps on the mound without the ball.
While in contact with the rubber, fakes or throws to an unoccupied base.
Moves from the windup to the set position without stepping off the rubber.
While in the set position, fails to come to a complete stop before delivering to the plate.
Fails to step directly toward the base when making a pickoff throw.
Fails to step directly toward the plate when delivering a pitch.
Delivers to the plate while the catcher is not in the catcher's box.
Hesitates or stops in the process of coming to the set position.
Drops the ball while in contact with the rubber.
While in the set position, breaks his hands while not in the process of delivering to the plate, and without stepping off the rubber.
While in contact with the rubber, makes any movement associated with his delivery to the plate without completing such movement (i.e. delivering a pitch).
Delivers to the plate while not in contact with the rubber.
Here's what the rule book says:
8.05 If there is a runner, or runners, it is a balk when—
(a) The pitcher, while touching his plate, makes any motion naturally associated with his pitch and fails to make such delivery;
I covered this in #1 and #13, so maybe that was redundant after all.
(b) The pitcher, while touching his plate, feints a throw to first base and fails to complete the throw;
I covered this in #2.
(c) The pitcher, while touching his plate, fails to step directly toward a base before throwing to that base;
This is covered by #7.
(d) The pitcher, while touching his plate, throws, or feints a throw to an unoccupied base, except for the purpose of making a play;
This is covered by #4, although I left out the "except for the purpose of making a play" part. This allows the pitcher to throw to second, for instance, when the runner from first breaks before he delivers a pitch.
(e) The pitcher makes an illegal pitch;
Rule 8.05(e) Comment: A quick pitch is an illegal pitch. Umpires will judge a quick pitch as one delivered before the batter is reasonably set in the batter’s box. With runners on base the penalty is a balk; with no runners on base, it is a ball. The quick pitch is dangerous and should not be permitted.
I missed this one entirely.
(f) The pitcher delivers the ball to the batter while he is not facing the batter;
This is sort of covered by #8, but not entirely. This has me a bit confused. I'm positive that, if the pitcher steps towards first, then delivers to home plate, it's a balk. It's possible that (c) also includes a delivery to the plate as well as a throw to a base, but I still think that's pretty vague.
(g) The pitcher makes any motion naturally associated with his pitch while he is not touching the pitcher’s plate;
#14 partially covers this, but not entirely.
(h) The pitcher unnecessarily delays the game;
Another one I missed entirely.
(i) The pitcher, without having the ball, stands on or astride the pitcher’s plate or while off the plate, he feints a pitch;
Partially covered by #3.
(j) The pitcher, after coming to a legal pitching position, removes one hand from the ball other than in an actual pitch, or in throwing to a base;
Covered by #12.
(k) The pitcher, while touching his plate, accidentally or intentionally drops the ball;
Covered by #11.
(l) The pitcher, while giving an intentional base on balls, pitches when the catcher is not in the catcher’s box;
#9, although I left out the fact that it's only a balk when it's in the act of issuing an intentional walk.
(m) The pitcher delivers the pitch from Set Position without coming to a stop.
Covered by #6.
8.05 (a) through (m) totals 13 ways to balk. This is why, I believe, one of the participants of the original conversation (at the Metrodome) that inspired this list referred to there being 13 different ways to balk. The only ways on my list that aren't covered in section 8.05 are #5 and #10. #5 is actually covered in section 8.01, which addresses the windup position, and states:
"From the Windup Position, the pitcher may...disengage the rubber. In disengaging the rubber the pitcher must step off with his pivot foot and not his free foot first. He may not go into a set or stretch position—if he does it is a balk."
#10 is definitely also a balk. However, it is essentially covered by 8.05(a) and, therefore, it was probably redundant for me to consider it a separate infraction. So, I'll count #5 as the 14th way, but not add #10 to the list. There are three additional ways, covered by the rule book, for the pitcher to balk:
7.07 states that it's a balk when, with a runner on third base and trying to score by means of a squeeze play or a steal, the catcher or any other fielder steps on, or in front of home base without possession of the ball, or touches the batter or his bat. The batter is awarded first base due to interference, but the rule book also considers this a balk.
8.02(a) covers illegal pitches, such as when the pitcher applies a foreign substance to, or defaces, the ball. An illegal pitch is considered a balk when there is a runner or runners on base.
8.01(d) refers to when a pitched ball slips out of the pitcher's hand during his delivery. The rule book is not entirely clear, but the approved ruling is that it's considered a balk, with runners on base, if the ball does not travel half the distance towards home plate or cross a foul line.
So, I'm considering this a total of 17 ways to balk. As you can see, though, there is still a lot of gray area, at least in terms of how many distinctly different ways there are. Not that anyone really cared, but I'm sure this explanation did very little to clarify my original balk discussion. This also speaks to how clearly the baseball rule book is written. That is, not very.
When I included the "Baseball Lesson of the Day" at the end of my Miller Park post, I had intended it would be something I'd do for each park visit. After all, there would probably be some interesting scenario at each game to provide such subject matter. Well, for yesterday's game there was, but it was a little too much to write about in one paragraph. So, I've decided to write about it separately.
There were two guys sitting next to me at the Metrodome (a young man and his grandfather, I presume) who got into a discussion about how many ways there are for a pitcher to balk. My initial reaction was to think that there are infinite ways, but I suppose that was being too technical. I guess they actually can be broken down into categories. So, not really knowing the answer to this question, here goes, from the top of my head (you'll have to take my word, I didn't look this up).
The pitcher...
Hesitates, or stops, in his delivery to home plate.
While in contact with the rubber, fakes a pickoff throw to first base.
Steps on the mound without the ball.
While in contact with the rubber, fakes or throws to an unoccupied base.
Moves from the windup to the set position without stepping off the rubber.
While in the set position, fails to come to a complete stop before delivering to the plate.
Fails to step directly toward the base when making a pickoff throw.
Fails to step directly toward the plate when delivering a pitch.
Delivers to the plate while the catcher is not in the catcher's box.
Hesitates or stops in the process of coming to the set position.
Drops the ball while in contact with the rubber.
While in the set position, breaks his hands while not in the process of delivering to the plate, and without stepping off the rubber.
While in contact with the rubber, makes any movement associated with his delivery to the plate without completing such movement (i.e. delivering a pitch).
Delivers to the plate while not in contact with the rubber.
As you can see, there is quite a bit of gray area here. For instance, is #13 really just another way of describing #1. Kind of, but not exactly. #11 and #12 are pretty close as well. Regardless, these are the ways I could come up with so far. I'm not even going to discuss the infractions that can be a balk under certain circumstances, just the standard scenarios. I'll look this up eventually and update this with the complete list.
"Since baseball time is measured only in outs, all you have to do is succeed utterly; keep hitting, keep the rally alive, and you have defeated time. You remain forever young." - Roger Angell
Posts
