Another Rant from the Couch

by Bill Ribas

If you have a pulse and you consider yourself even the mildest fan of sports, then you know what the buzz is all about right now, it’s about a perfect game, a blown call, and more opinions than you can shake several sticks at. In case you’ve been in a cryogenic vault, here’s the skinny – umpire Jim Joyce made a wrong call that cost Detroit pitcher Armando Galarraga an entry into the record books. But what’s really interesting is the call didn’t cost Detroit the game, didn’t affect the standings, and let’s face it, this game will be remembered more for what happened than for what didn’t happen.

The anger and frustration is all over the place, but where is it directed? Get mad at the umpire? Well, for starters, umpires are viewed a lot like police officers, in that when they’re doing their jobs correctly, you never seem to notice, but when they make a mistake, it’s a whole other story. Let’s put it this way – when was the last time you watched a baseball game and said out loud, “wow, great officiating.” Contrast that to a neighborhood play at second when a team turns two, and as the replay shows the shortstop’s foot skating across the dirt, you say to your buddies, “Man, he was two feet off the bag.” I’m not saying the player shouldn’t get the call at second, but rather the player gets much more leeway than an ump on a per play basis. Fair or not?

Umpires have always been given the short end of the stick, and it’s too easy to criticize a sitting duck. And while the case can be made that way too many calls have been blown this season, is it simply that the umps collectively got worse? I’d point the finger at the reduction of performance drug use as a cause. Really? Yes, that’s what I said. Why Bill? Well, I’ll tell you. Imagine a few year back, you’re an ump in the big leagues with a few years under your belt, and almost every player on the field is capable of a drug induced rage in your direction. Sure, you do your job the best you can, but underlying all of this is a loose cannon with a Louisville slugger at hand, with the backing of tens of thousands fans in a stadium. Think this might affect your job performance (and for all of you with day jobs, just imagine everyone at your workplace a crazed meth head, and then think how easy it would be to get that powerpoint presentation whipped up). Suddenly, the head honchos at Baseball Inc. decide drugs are a no-no, and the players collectively chill out. Now, instead of a razor sharp focus on every call (where each call may cost you your life or livelihood), you’re a bit more relaxed on the diamond. Enter a season with a slurry of missed calls, and suddenly it’s not the players that want your hides, it’s the press.

Now, we can generalize all we want, look for causes (and I know I’m right, so I’m not worried), and there’s no doubt Joyce’s call was the wrong one. But he owned up to it, and that’s good. Look at it this way – ever have a chum at work screw up and not say anything, or point the blame in another direction, like yours? Joyce is human, made a mistake, but we can’t move on. Why not? Because sporting events are 99.9% observation, fan-owned, passive events. Allow me to explain further. Imagine that you were at the Detroit game – it would have been huge for you, and more so if you were seated on the first base side. The further back you go, say, you watched it on tee vee, well, the further away you are from the importance of the game. The difference between watching it on ESPN that night or the next morning is an even greater distance. And if you saw it a day or two later on the internets, well, you are at the back of the line.

Now I don’t mean to suggest you can’t rally up an opinion; only that the distance between you and the event is a measure of importance. Let me put it a different way – if this happened at your office softball game, you’d still be complaining at the water cooler; if it happened to your dad’s softball team, no biggie, just a minor footnote in your life that once in a while comes up. Listen, Galarraga got a Corvette for his performance – what did you get? We all got nothing, outside of the chance to offer up our pearls of wisdom. And this is where you get mine.

Let it go, I say. Joyce blew a call, big deal. Galarraga doesn’t get his name in the books, well, not in the way that he should have been, but he is actually more well known for what didn’t happen than for what did (who was the other guy besides Halladay?). Time didn’t stop, the games move on, the season keeps pushing along, life moves ahead. Baseball, as a game, is such a good reflection of life that we should leave this incident alone. Despite the mountain of statistics, you can lay bell curves on all aspects of the game, hitting, pitching, etc. Now and then you have players that are off the charts (watch Tuesday for that kid on the Nationals), but for the most part, the reason the game is so loved is that we are watching ourselves. From Little League to an Old Timers’ game, it is us, played out on a lovely little diamond of grass.

And so umpires become scapegoats, just like in our lives their are idiot bosses, people behind counters that drive us nuts, bad drivers cutting us off. We all have in our history an almost “perfect” game. Whether it’s getting a A+ on a school paper, winning a game of dodgeball, finding a 50 dollar bill on the ground, we have these minute shining moments (we just don’t get Corvettes for them). And I think this is where the call for instant replay comes in. Remember that girl you tried to talk to, and stuttered like crazy trying to get the words out? Sure, instant replay might help there, but today you’d still be shirtless on the couch in the middle of July watching Milwaukee slug it out against the Padres with a beer at hand because you didn’t want to cut the grass and the kids are crazy and yes honey go shopping please just leave me alone.

You can’t take the umps out of the game. Period. Sure they make mistakes, but they’re human. As a matter of fact, so are the players. And if umps are human and make mistakes, then players, who are also human, make mistakes too. Huh, imagine that. And there are more umps than players. Wow, never thought of that. And the stadiums are filled with people who make mistakes. Now this is getting heady. Before I start contemplating how many universes there are under my fingernails, let’s just leave it at this – don’t allow instant replay. Well, maybe for foul balls and homers during the series, but that’s it. It will change the game, and not for the better. Because we’re all told this from the time we’re little – we all learn from our mistakes. In this instance, let’s learn we make mistakes, accept it, and move on. Because unless there’s a brand new Corvette in my driveway, my life hasn’t changed one iota, and that’s okay with me.

AP Photo/Tom Olmscheid

Another week of great sports action, and so many great performances with which to choose. Step right up readers and give us the one performance that stands out for you this week.

I am going with the Minnesota Twins and their ‘never-say-die’ attitude.

On September 6th, the Twins trailed the Detroit Tigers for the American League Central by seven games. By last Monday, Ron Gardenhire’s team trailed by three with a four-game set against the leaders from Motown.

Despite touching Tiger ace, Justin Verlander, for four runs, the Twins trailed the Tigers by two after splitting that series. Finishing the season at home against the 65-win Kansas City Royals looked good on the surface. That is until one considers the Twins would face Zzzzzzzzach Grienke.  Minnesota crossed the dish four times versus the AL Cy Young probable, swept the Royals, and by virtue of a mild Tiger implosion, are looking at a one-game playoff on Tuesday.

Break out the ‘Homer Hankies.’ Tuesday’s game in the Dome should be a wild one.

Who gets your POTW?

AP Photo/Michael Dwyer

Another week and we have another great performance by a Boston Red Sox opponent. Last week, the Bronx Bombers earned recognition. The nomination caused some confusion on the Pine.

This week, Justin Verlander of the Detroit Tigers grabs the honors.

Verlander struck out eight and walked one in eight shutout innings as the boys from Motown downed the Sox 2-0. The Old Dominion product limited Boston to just four hits helping the Tigers avoid a four-game sweep at Fenway. To top it off, Verlander sent home a message in the eighth as he regularly clocked in at 99 mph. On his 122nd pitch of the game, Verlander hit the century mark.

Who gets your POTW?

Okay, it is not exactly Tuesday, but this class and the reading involved is killing me – so bear with me.  This past week has been a tough week for Major League Baseball fans. First with the death of Angel’s pitcher Nick Adenhart in a tragic car crash, followed by the deaths of legendary broadcaster Harry Kalas and pitcher Mark “The Bird” Fidrych.  So much has been written about Nick Adenhart and Harry Kalas, that I am not sure I can add anything additional. But this week at lunch, younger co-workers and I were discussing recent news items at lunch – when we started to talk about Mark Fidrych. To my surprise – neither knew who he was and I consider both to be avid baseball fans.

That is when I decided to set out and do additional research on the man. To my surprise, I was shocked to see that Fidrych was born and raised Worchester, MA area – about an hour from Boston. In 1974  he was taken in the 10th round by the Detroit Tigers.  It wasn’t until 1976 that Fidrych made the Tigers roster and didn’t start his first game until May of that year. But in that game, Fidrych pitched 7 innings of no hit ball as an emergency starter- winning  2-1. Immediately he was thrust in the starting rotation where he went on to win 19 games that year, earning American League Rookie of the Year award and finishing second in the Cy Young voting.

But Mark’s attraction wasn’t so much his pitching – it was his antics on the mound. Nicknamed “The Bird” by a minor league coach because of his resemblance to Big Bird on Sesame Street, Fidrych was known for his oddball behavior on the mound.  During the game, “The Bird” was known for manicuring the mound and cleaning off cleat marks.  He was known for both talking to himself and the ball. He was even known to throw balls back to the umpire – because they still had hits in them. His antics caught the imagination of fans and he became a hit – pardon the pun.  In fact Fidrych became the first athlete to appear on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine.

Unfortunately before the 1977 season, Mark injured his knee in spring training. After he returned from the knee injury, he complained about a dead arm. Unfortunately, that dead arm turned out to be torn rotator cuff.  To make matter worse, it would be 8 years before the injury was finally diagnosed by Dr. James Andrews.  Fidrych didn’t last long in the majors after that and was released by the Tigers in 1980. In 1981, he signed with the Boston Red Sox and played for their minor league team. Unsuccessful – he quickly retired and returned to Massachusetts. It was over.  As quick  as his rise to stardom, his crash was as equally great.

Since then he has lived in Massachusetts, living on a farm, managing his gravel business. As a kid – I was fascinated by the man. I mean anyone that talked to the ball and to himself on the mound – had to capture the attention of a young baseball fan. Right? I am trying to confirm this with my Dad, but I believe we had the opportunity to see  him pitch during one of those unsuccessful comebacks at Silver Stadium. Actually,  I am hoping that Casey can help with this.

On Monday, Fidrych died in a trucking accident on his farm – almost as strange and surreal as his rise to fame.  Had I known that he lived so close to Boston, I might have tried to get his autograph. To me, Fidrych represents everything that “coulda” and “shoulda”  happen with Major League baseball. Mark Fidrych “coulda” been great and for one brief season – he was.  “The Bird” shoulda  been around for a few more years for fans to enjoy and he isn’t.  Too bad – in light of the recent dark days of  Major League Baseball – they could use him.