Miles's blog

I don’t want instant replay in baseball.  I have actually been to two games where they had to stop everything so the umpires could retire to some tiny room under the stands and stare at a tv screen to decide whether or not what their eyes told them was, in fact, accurate.  On both occasions the umps confirmed their original call, but even if they hadn’t I can live with their mistakes.  It truly is part of the game.

Much was made this week during the all-star game in Kansas City about the missed call at first base which cost the 1985 St. Louis Cardinals a world championship.  Forgetting about the fact that the Royals won the game by taking advantage of the call, and that they found a way to win three other games, a missed call has been part of the game ever since they invented the game.  In fact missed calls, mistakes in whatever form, are part of human endeavor.  That is why we have courts of appeal (giving people like Brian Boatright and Bob Russel something to do).  That is why we have sayings like “To err is human, to forgive divine.”  That is why baseball scores hit, runs, and errors.  People make mistakes. 

This kind of mistake gives the game flavor.  Umpires miss things; they think they see things they don’t see, players will fool them.  In short, the game is played between two teams but it has a context.  Stadiums are different, groundskeepers can alter the field—intentionally or otherwise, weather changes, fans interfere, birds fly into flyballs, and squirrels inspire world champions.  I would not change any of that.  (Which is one reason I hate domed stadiums.)

The human factor of the umpires is as much a part of the contest as the human factor of the players.  Sure, everyone is frustrated when one of the boys in blue inexplicably calls a guy safe to ruin a perfect game, or says a fair ball is foul, or gives someone a home run when it should have been a double.  We swear, throw things at the television, rain down a chorus of boos at the stadium.  All of this is what creates the drama of the sport.

But what about “getting it right” you will say.  This is the universal cry.  Athletes, media, executives, even the umpires themselves wring their hands about mistakes and claim they will do anything to “get it right.”  Bah humbug.  They fail to perceive that getting it right is irrelevant.  Making the call and moving the game along, that is important.  Bad calls are just as much part of the game as good calls, because the game itself exists only within its own context.  In other words, getting it right or wrong matters only to that individual game (and somewhat in a larger context to the sport).  It has no meaning outside of the sport. 

Some things for sure we need to make sure we get right:  surgery, tolerances for airplane construction, presidential elections.  The consequences for getting those things wrong are monumental.  When the built the Chunnel under the English Channel teams began at each end.  They had to get right where they dug so that they didn’t miss their point of meeting.  Extraordinary means were necessary to accomplish this feat. 

Baseball, on the other hand, has no significance except to itself.  Wars are not fought over baseball (although individuals certainly have been hurt; I doubt instant replay would change that).  No one is elected president, loses a limb, or suffers grievous injury based upon the result of a baseball game.  Certainly the 1985 Cardinals players would have had much more enjoyable careers had they won the World Series, but aside from that, whether Kansas City or St. Louis took home the trophy is irrelevant in a greater context.  Of course, I care about baseball results, and obviously I want all calls to be correct, but the story of the missed call in the ’85 Series is part of baseball lore.  Had some faceless tv watcher in the press box reversed the call we would have no history to be talking about.

Baseball has a rhythm.  Games progress too slowly as it is.  Watching a delay for a replay on tv is merely a chance for a bathroom break or a run to the fridge, but sitting in the stands while the players scratch in the dirt and the pitcher takes some half-hearted tosses to keep loss is an exercise in dullness.  Play the game.  When the call was made actions took place.  Replacing runners or determining if the hitter would have reached second will be guesswork leading to the same amount of frustration as missed calls do now.

The hue and cry about “getting it right” flows from football, which has exalted instant replay to a status comparable to the invention of the forward pass.  And while football has no more meaning outside the game than any other sport, one thing has driven the mania to “get it right.”  Gambling.  People now wager so much money on football that America risked civil unrest if no method was instituted to make sure every call is unassailably correct.  Most of America plays fantasy football or fills out football pools or sits half-crocked at sports bars screaming their lungs out while wagering on their favorite teams.  They risk a week’s pay on the results of the Super Bowl and millions are wagered on the college national championship game.  Replay under these circumstances was a national imperative.

Baseball, unfortunately, is starting to suffer from the same problem.  Attendance has increased dramatically, while appreciation of the game itself has diminished.  Fantasy aficionados can recite the statistics of every player in the league, but they have no grasp of what the game itself is actually about.  For them, “getting it right” is important.  After all, a blown call might mean their pitcher’s whip slips a notch.

No, no no, I declaim.  I am a purist.  Baseball should be one sport to remain somewhat pure (well, of course, the advent of the designated hitter, wild card teams, and world series games lasting into the next day have corrupted it, but you know what I mean).  Every call will not be the right one.  Get over it.