Fumbling the Game Away

By Robert Nishihara

When I was going to the University of Oregon, there was a running back on the football team (his name escapes me at the moment) who just couldn't seem to hang onto the ball. Though the coaches all had reasonably high hopes for this star-crossed player, he just couldn't shake this unfortunate habit of fumbling the football. Eventually, it was decided that the best way to prevent him from fumbling the ball was simply not to give it to him to carry in the first place. 

In the middle of the 11th inning of this year's Major League Baseball All-Star game, Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig was sought out and asked for his guidance on how best to proceed with an extra inning, tied game that had depleted the rosters of both sides. After taking what seemed an eternity to make a decision, he finally consented to make a ruling. 

And he promptly fumbled the ball. 

In a sport that does not allow for a tied score to register as an official result, Selig decided, on this evening, to allow it. In so doing, he took what is one of the few events that Major League Baseball actively showcases as the best the sport has to offer and (by contradicting one of the sport's most fundamental rules) gave this supposed jewel of the sport a wholly unsatisfying and technically improper ending.  

The primary alibi for halting what was turning out to be one of the most exciting All-Star contests in recent memory was a plea from the managers bemoaning their "depleted" rosters. The postgame theme repeated by all those involved in the game expressed the disappointment of having to end the game in a tie but also the unavoidable nature of such a decision. The phrase "no more players left" took on a mantra-like tone.  

While it is true that both benches and both bullpens had been emptied, the simple fact of the matter is that there were still two full teams of players left on the field. Indeed, a quick look at the respective lineups of each league's squad reveals that there was one player at every required position still eligible (and playing) at the time the game was called. Of course, there were no players left to be substitutes but there were certainly the required number left to continue playing the game. In addition, most of the players in the game in the 11th inning hadn't yet played a full nine innings (most were substituted in sometime after the 3rd inning). 

Ah, but there was the "X-factor" of having to deal with pitchers and pitch counts. There were only two pitchers left eligible and each was already in the game. Vicente Padilla of Philadelphia and Freddy Garcia of Seattle were the hurlers in question. Conventional wisdom suggests that pitchers need to be handled gingerly in these types of games. However, Padilla's last start prior to the All-Star game was Thursday, the 4th of July. Granted, he threw 119 pitches in that start, but by the time July 9th (the date of the All-Star game) rolled around Padilla had had four days of rest and was in line for his next start on the 9th, anyway. Garcia had a similar story. His last start was also on the 4th, and the 9th was his natural turn to start as well. When the All-Star game came to its abrupt halt, Padilla and Garcia had each pitched a grand total of two innings. Padilla had tossed 25 pitches; Garcia, 31.  

Clearly, if either Padilla or Garcia were a relief pitcher, two innings pitched would have represented an appearance of significant length. In that scenario, I can certainly see why there would have been concern over fatigue and vulnerability to injury. However, Padilla and Garcia are starters, and they were both working on a full four days of rest. Asking either pitcher to throw another 30 or 40 pitches (two or three innings worth) wouldn't have been unreasonable (pitch counts for both pitchers would still have been significantly lower than a typical start for each). That way, the lineups for both teams would have had a chance to turn over one more time and the likelihood of middle-of-the-order hitters from one side deciding the game once and for all would have been greatly increased. Unfortunately, the specter of upsetting Padilla and Garcia's respective managers (Larry Bowa in Philadelphia and Lou Pinella in Seattle) by "overusing" them apparently took precedent over upsetting a national TV audience and a stadium filled with fans. 

For a sport drowning in its own bad PR, Major League Baseball should be trying everything in its power to avoid pouring another bucket of water over its head. Ending the "Midsummer's classic" in a tie not only represents another bucket of water but one sloshing to the brim.  

It's a shame, too, because the All-Star game itself was an exciting contest filled with a number of great moments. Minnesota's Torii Hunter made a spectacular leaping catch to rob Barry Bonds of a home run in the 1st. Bonds got his revenge in the 3rd by hitting a tremendous upper deck homer off Toronto's Roy Halladay. Yankees' sophomore sensation Alfonso Soriano hit an equally impressive homer off Major League saves leader Eric Gagne in the 5th. The AL, once down by as many as four runs, took the lead in the 7th with a four-run rally capped by a clutch two-run, two-out double by Chicago's Paul Konerko. ML RBI leader Lance Berkman gave the NL the lead back by delivering a two-run single off Seattle's ace closer Kazu Sasaki in the bottom of the same inning. 

Unfortunately, those moments were overshadowed by the befuddled look on Bud Selig's face when he decided to end a tied game between the best players in the game. Of course, the proverbial cherry on top of this ill-formed sundae was the decision not to name an MVP for the game. The award, which was to commemorate the late, great Ted Williams, was simply not given out. The mishandling of the event even extended to the awards associated with it. 

Though, the most absurd moment of the evening may have occurred when Bud Selig attempted to explain his decision during a postgame news conference. Selig claimed that the possibility of the game ending in a tie was "beyond anyone's wildest dreams". That the Commissioner of baseball should in any way be surprised by the possibility of a game going into extra innings speaks volumes about Selig's inability to effectively administrate the sport he professes to care for so much. 

Perhaps, the best way to get Selig to stop the fumbling the ball is simply not to give it to him to carry in the first place.