Baseball’s traditional unwritten rules are now under siege. Unwritten rules are important not only in baseball and athletics, but in politics, business, interpersonal relations, and, indeed, life in general.
When I was a kid back in the “ancient” 1940s major league baseball had not yet come to Wisconsin. Fans around here generally followed the Cubs. However, my pal, Dick, and I somehow started following the hapless St. Louis Browns, perennially in the cellar of the old American League. On occasional summer nights we could sometimes pick up faint radio signals from St. Louis and even hear them on the radio.
In the 1950s as the Braves lost to the Red Sox in Boston’s pecking order, and attendance declined miserably, they transferred to Milwaukee in 1953. Attendance soared, and it was an exciting time with players including Eddie Matthews, Del Crandall, Johnny Logan, Warren Spahn, and, of course, the rookie Hank Aaron. A few Cubs fans retained their former loyalty. With their now-diminished numbers, we still have migrating “flatlanders” up here pulling for the Cubs, no doubt enjoying their resurgence.
After leaving Wisconsin, and the Braves stabbing Milwaukee in the back by moving to greener pastures in Atlanta, I lost interest in baseball for a while.
After graduate school, I landed in Minnesota. When son Johnny started faithfully following the hapless Minnesota Twins, my interest in major league baseball resumed. Sure, they were then the worst team in baseball. But for a few measly bucks you could get a prime seat along the third baseline and enjoy a beer in the afternoon sunshine
After the penurious Calvin Griffith sold the team, they moved inside to a plastic dome and started winning. I left Minnesota for New Mexico about the time the Twins actually won the World Series. Baseball’s move inside was only one of its many changes to come.
With increasing emphasis on power and the home run, instant replay, and television, the game has continued to change. But those unwritten rules have been a stable feature of the game, until lately, that is.
The situation was this: The division-leading White Sox were leading the Twins by 15-4 in the 9th inning. At the bottom of the division and not wanting to deplete their bull pen, the Twins put in a catcher to end the game, a move subject to some criticism. He was throwing slow, soft pitches, trying to get the ball over the plate.
Rising White Sox star, Yermin Mercedes at the plate, had a 3-0 count. The unwritten rule is that batters don’t swing at a 3-0 pitch when the game is already won. That is —or once was — seen as disrespect for the opposition, and for the game.
Accordingly, Sox manager, the widely unpopular and controversial Tony La Russa, gives Mercedes the traditional “take sign.” With the game already a blowout, no need to hammer the opposition further.
In desperation to get the ball over the plate, the next pitch is slow, over the heart of the plate. Mercedes ignores La Russa’s “take sign,” and crushes the easy pitch for a 429 foot home run.
With that, La Russa expresses outrage, some combination of Mercedes disobeying his instructions, and disrespect for the game and the opposing team. La Russa states that he would not blame the Twins for their anger, and even retaliation.
This brings forth another unwritten rule, that when a team sees themselves to be blatantly disrespected, they traditionally retaliate; and yet another unwritten rule, that a manager backs his own player no matter what. In the next game, one Sox player is hit by a pitched ball. Mercedes is not hit but, even more dangerously, a fast ball is thrown behind him. The Twins manager defends his pitcher, and both are thrown out of the game.
This brouhaha now has multiple elements. Were the Twins justified to put in a “position player” as pitcher? Was Mercedes justified in ignoring La Russa’s “take sign” and smashing a home run? Was La Russa justified in sympathizing with the Twins rather than “backing his own player?” And this reveals the broader question: Do these traditional unwritten rules have a place in today’s changing society, or are they merely a quaint relic of bygone days, detracting from drama and excitement, as some allege?
The Sox players are clearly siding with Mercedes. Sports writers are also siding with Mercedes. But although questioning the unwritten rule about not crushing an already-crushed opponent, it seems that many are using this as an occasion to attack the unpopular La Russa who has endured his share of criticism, both on and off the field.
A Sports Illustrated headline reads, “Tony La Russa represents everything that is bad about baseball.” Another sportswriter, Alex Kirshner, sides with Mercedes, arguing that, “It’s fun — home runs are good.” To him, and an apparent increasing majority of others, the instant gratification of watching a meaningless home run is preferable to longer run traditions of the game, now seen as quaint, even “dumb.”
CNN’s Scott Jennings hails Mercedes as an exciting star who deserves to burnish his statistics to enhance his income.
As I see it, it comes down to the question: “Would you rather be known as a great athlete and the fiercest of competitors, going to any length to add to your statistics?” Or, “Known as a great athlete who is capable of a class act.”
To me, the choice would be easy, and La Russa made it easy by giving Mercedes the take sign. If you are already a star and the game is won, you take the pitch. But the catch is that in today’s world, taking the pitch instead of hitting a meaningless home is no longer seen as a class act, especially by younger players and sportswriters, and, no doubt, by many fans.
Writers like Jennings would rather “keep the game fresh” instead of “protecting dumb rules of the past,” as he puts it.
Count me as an aging traditionalist who doesn’t see unwritten rules as “dumb.”
— John Waelti’s column appears every Saturday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net