Suggestions to Fix What Ails Baseball

Baseball was my first love in sports. I remember the epic World Series battles between the New York Yankees and Milwaukee Braves in 1957 and 1958 when I was a little boy. And for decades afterward, I bought into the idea that baseball was the “American pastime.”

Unfortunately, the snail’s pace of the sport – in the context of today’s fast-food, microwave, immediately-if-not-sooner world – has turned it from “pastime” to more like watching time pass through an hourglass.

Other sports – notably football and basketball, pro and college – have surpassed baseball in popularity, particularly among younger people. The bedrock of baseball fandom today is the so-called Baby Boomer generation, of which I’m a card-carrying member. But even I have a hard time sitting through more than an inning or two anymore.

Baseball has long been a part of Americana, and it would be a shame for it to crawl into the Smithsonian and become a quaint relic of the past. Here are suggestions to revitalize the game:

Put pitchers on a time clock (call it a “pitch clock”). Pitchers take an interminable amount of time between pitches, scratching their ears, adjusting jocks or whatever they need to do. Football, basketball, hockey and other sports all utilize time clocks to keep action moving. How about having a clock that limits time between pitches to 20 or 25 seconds? If the pitch isn’t delivered by then, it’s an automatic “ball.”

Institute instant replay. Videotape replay has revolutionized both pro and college football, making for more accurate officiating, and it’s even used in some instances in basketball. Forget “tradition” – and egotistical baseball umpires. Institute instant replay for controversial calls, those bang-bang plays at the bases or questionable catches in the outfield. Get it right!

Outlaw the “drama.” One silly baseball practice is the manager storming onto the field to protest a call he disagrees with, jawing chin to chin with an umpire, even kicking dirt or throwing his hat. You don’t see this in football, or basketball – if you do, the coach is banished immediately. Such behavior isn’t tolerated in the workplace; why should a ball diamond be an exception? It’s just another waste of time – and if videotape replay is instituted, it becomes utterly unnecessary.

Have players show post-game sportsmanship. Have you noticed that after football games the opposing players mingle? And in basketball, competitors routinely shake hands after the final buzzer? Not in baseball. The winners do shake hands – but only with fellow teammates. Meanwhile, their opponents either shuffle to the clubhouse or watch enviously from the dugout. Let’s have a display of sportsmanship, with winners and losers congratulating each other post-game.

I’m sure there are other ideas that could be implemented as well, but these could be a good start. Otherwise, I fear, we’ll soon be going to museums to see baseball, displayed alongside T-Rex, the cotton gin and the “Spirit of St. Louis.”

What Changed Baseball?

For whatever reason, I vividly recall that in my final year of Little League baseball – also my last attempt at organized baseball, because I couldn’t hit my way out of a field of weeds – I batted .226 (seven hits in 31 at-bats), and every hit was a bunt. (I also got plunked by pitches several times, but my brief experience as a human baseball target is not the focus for this blog.)

I remember two solid hits, one deep down the leftfield line that went foul, and the other a hard grounder to the shortstop that was called an error when he bobbled the ball.

Why do I mention that? Because the other day a radio sports commentator bemoaned that in Major League baseball, you rarely see players bunt the fall. Pitchers occasionally bunt to advance base runners, but position players hardly ever bunt.

He also mentioned you never see players choking up on the bat so they can control the ball by smacking it just beyond the infielders’ reach. I remember watching Bobby Richardson, the Yankees’ second baseman in the ‘60s, choking up on the bat at least two inches. He certainly was not one of New York’s famed “Murderers’ Row” – his career high for homeruns was eight – but he did bat over .300 twice. And he knew how to bunt.

So why don’t today’s players bunt? The commentator said he thought it’s because modern ballplayers don’t consider it “manly.” I think it’s an even simpler reason: ESPN.

We’re all familiar with Chris Berman’s “back, back, back, GONE!” to describe homeruns. When did you ever hear Berman offer a similar description for a bunt? What’s he going to say, “dink, dink, dink, safe”?

The nuances of baseball have suffered as the spotlight has grown brighter on mammoth homers. Players don’t get paid millions for bunting, or capture endorsement contracts for pushing a baseball gently down the baseline.

As a Little Leaguer, I actually did bunt the ball into the outfield, over the head of the charging third baseman, but that was long before ESPN, or even YouTube. And I wasn’t on steroids!