Well, it finally happened. Didn’t make much news or noise, but that figures given baseball’s new replay rules have been widely celebrated for “getting it right.”
In the top of the fifth inning in Aug. 20’s White Sox-Angels, Chicago’s Jose Abreu, with runners on first and third, hit a shot down the line that third-base ump Dana DeMuth ruled foul. Play, naturally, immediately stopped.
But the White Sox challenged the call. And there it was: The ball appeared to have nicked the line. Fair ball! Now what?
The umps held a meeting, a caucus to negotiate a settlement. It ended only after they reached an agreement on a guess of what, among scores of things that could have happened, as to what might have next happened. They determined — guessed — that because the runner on first was going on the pitch, both runners should score, and Abreu should be awarded second, as if it were a ground-rule double, which it was not.
So, in the name of “getting it right,” a pile of things that never happened — all of them impossible to determine would have happened — were deemed to have not happened while other impossibilities to determine were deemed to have happened.
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The White Sox took a 6-1 lead based on nothing more conclusive than a bunch of maybes as they related to the offense, the defense, and where that ball might’ve wound up then how it might’ve been played — had it been played.
Once that foul ball, via replay rule, was determined to have been fair, imaginary baseball — official fantasy league baseball — was invoked.
The mind wanders and wonders … Game 7 of the World Series, bottom of the ninth. A ball initially ruled foul is reviewed, reversed. The umps gather to try to figure it out, to try to figure what can’t possibly be determined, then rule on what would’ve or might’ve happened, though it didn’t.
Is the World Series over? “Gee,” says the crew chief, “I guess so.”
Some coaches would prefer to relive mistake
One of my favorite parts of Super Bowls is the solemn chat with the losing coach just outside the locker room, usually his back to a cinderblock wall.
Inevitably, whether the score was 52-10 or 28-27, he is asked: “What would you have done differently?” Almost always, he answers he would do nothing differently, which, given that his team lost, makes no sense. He would do it all the same, again. And lose the same, again.
Me? I would do everything differently. I would punt on first down, play a nickel-man-zone 5-3 offense, and, in full view during the coin flip, have my captains offer the officials canvas sacks with “$” signs on them.
Seattle offensive coordinator Darrell Bevell last week was asked about “that play,” the intercepted pass from the 1-yard line with 26 seconds left in the last Super Bowl, the play that made the Patriots 28-24 winners.
Bevell said, “I wouldn’t change it. I think it was the right thing.”
OK. But at least Bevell survived to make that claim. Other offensive coordinators, including Gen. George Armstrong Custer, Edsell Ford and Harry Frazee, the Red Sox owner who sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees to finance “No, No Nanette,” were unable to claim they would do the same thing, again.
While the heartless horror stories about Sunday afternoon family come-on games being late-switched to late Sunday night as per MLB’s sellout to ESPN continue to stack — one from the father of kids whose community had to cancel a bus trip to attend last Sunday night’s late-switched Giants-Pirates — two things worth noting:
1. Two adults who wouldn’t take “Too bad. No refunds or exchanges,” for an answer, did, after persistent complaining to the Mets, receive some relief: One, an exchange of tickets for a different game, the other a refund, although $32 in tack-on “convenience fees” was kept by the Mets.
So, precedents have been set. Scream, kick, holler, threaten never to spend another dime. The “No refund/no exchange policy” is for non-combative suckers.
2. This column has urged the baited-and-switched to contact MLB, specifically Commissioner Rob Manfred, with their plaints. I also have urged they send me a copy of their missive, plus word of any reply from MLB.
Thus far, no one has received a reply from MLB — evidence that there is no good answer, or because unmitigated greed speaks for itself.
The Golf Channel becomes comical when it goes into Tiger Woods Scramble Mode. When Woods shot a first-round 64 two Thursdays ago, GC apparently canceled all staff vacations, on-air personnel instructed to hyperventilate.
CBS was no better. Though Woods last Sunday was in the next-to-the-last pairing — “penultimate pairing,” as per ESPN from the British Open — Woods was listed first among those in second place, two behind leader Jason Gore. But Tom Hoge, tied with Woods, played with Gore.
ESPN’s late Sunday crawl read, “Davis Love wins the Wyndham as Tiger falters.” Reader Rich Monahan: “As if one was the reason for the other!” Woods finished tied for 10th! But, hey, I’m surprised ESPN even bothered to mention the winner’s name.
Woods’ career-end bio will not be complete without a chapter or two on how he inspired transparent stupidity in television’s shot-callers.
An act only Gomez could love
Carlos Gomez, as a Brewer and now with the Astros, has been a conspicuous showoff, a me-first fool well worth the Yankees’ collective disdain over the past week.
But Gomez, who claims his teammates love such behavior from him — he’s delusional if he believes that — should be asked this:
Would you instruct the kids in your life to exploit baseball, a team game, to demonstrate their excessive self-regard, or would you urge them toward modesty? Is public immodesty the professional legacy you choose for yourself?
No one fakes expertise on horseracing more than Mike Francesa, especially from his “usual seat, right on the finish line.” But to be fair, he finally hit an exacta!
First, he authoritatively claimed American Pharoah might enter the Travers at Saratoga, but definitely not the Haskell at Monmouth. American Pharoah entered and won the Haskell.
Then Francesa knowingly reported American Pharoah would not enter the Travers. He then was entered in the Travers.
Other expert Francesa touts: He now says the Mets are a lock — no lost-tapes mention that in early July he said the Mets would be out of it by the All-Star break.
And apparently he read or heard somewhere — it’s not as if he actually would otherwise know — that Clemson’s football team would be good, because he touted Clemson as if he independently knows. Poor Clemson.