I've got a friend who grew up in a non-baseball nation but is determined to learn the game. The thing is, he wants to know more than the rules; he wants to know the reasons behind the rules.
This is where we have a problem.
If you ever want to make baseball sound silly, try to explain it to someone who knows nothing about it. Everything you take for granted has to be explained in detail. A forceout is a 20-minute explanation. A sacrifice fly is a good 10.
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| So, please explain the rule on corking bats once again? |
The infield fly rule? Take my advice: Forget the infield fly rule.
Once I had to explain why a runner on first who had passed second base needed to re-tag the base in order to go back to first after a long flyball. I think that one ended in a stalemate, with the final answer being, "Well, just because he does. Trust me."
I thought about all this while watching the end of the Cubs-Phillies game the other night. The Cubs won, and the split-second the last out was made, the camera switched to the Cubs bench, where Dick Pole was finishing off a hearty handshake with Dusty Baker. Then both men advanced to the rest of the coaches, the trainers, the players on the bench and then the players on the field.
Nobody shakes hands the way baseball people shake hands. No one's even close.
It's another of the game's quirks we take for granted. If you put a shake-o-meter on a coach's hand the minute he arrived at the ballpark, he'd reach triple figures by game time. They're the shakingest guys in a shake-happy game.
So I'm wondering if my friend will ever get enough knowledge to advance to the unwritten rules of baseball. No stealing when you're ahead by five after the seventh. No showing up a hitter after a strikeout. No watching home runs by non-home run hitters.
This guy already thinks balls and strikes are completely arbitrary. In his world, the umpire just throws his right hand up whenever he feels like it. He says they should just swing the bat if they can reach it.
So, if you think the infield fly is bad, imagine explaining that a pitcher threw at a hitter, because he took a hack at a 3-0 pitch in the late innings of a lopsided game.
This Week's List
Proof that the closer doesn't always have to possess closer's stuff: Joe Borowski, 16 of 19.
Three Outdoor Games events that should happen: 1) the water-the-garden-while-having-a-beer competition; 2) the self-propelled-lawnmower-while-barefoot race; 3) playing H-O-R-S-E while barbecuing.
Not that it matters, but: I'll play in Montreal.
Rudderless: Texas Rangers.
Just for the heck of it: Sammy Khalifa.
This week's deep-thought question: If Roberto Alomar has a great second half for the White Sox, should the Mets -- the team paying his entire salary -- have the right to sue him for his inability (refusal?) to perform for them?
On second thought, Art Howe does have a certain Control Group look about him: Why did so many media folk call the Mets-White Sox trade "the end of the Alomar Experiment in New York"?
Hands so quick it's scary: Carlos Delgado.
Lou Piniella was unavailable for comment: In the strangest argument of the year, White Sox manager Jerry Manuel looked like he needed a hug when he conducted a sideways, whisper-in-the-ear discussion with Joe West on Wednesday night.
Your All-Star starter ...: It's beginning to look like Dontrelle Willis really is that good.
And that Jake Peavy is a real fan favorite, isn't he? If Armando Benitez makes the All-Star team and Willis doesn't, Bud Selig should invoke the "best interests of the game" clause.
Venus vs. Serena: Wouldn't you love to see those scouting reports?
It's kind of like saying the Golden State Warriors would be better with Kobe and Shaq, but: If the Mets had the Mariners' defense, they'd be 10 games over .500.
And he thinks Greg Maddux, with a little work, can put together a career something like Bob Walk's: Barry Bonds compared Albert Pujols favorably to Bobby Bonilla.
Which, if Michael Jordan didn't already tell you this, proves a point: The best players don't always make the best scouts.
For some reason, he must think the American public is more willing to forgive a guy for winning money in an NCAA pool than it is a guy who drank too many Natural Lights and tried to hit on coeds: Of all the disgraced coaches, Rick Neuheisel is putting up the most spirited defense.
This isn't meant to sound crass, but: Given the circumstances, doesn't Dave Bliss have some explaining to do for the program he's running at Baylor?
And finally, when it comes to the All-Star Game, be sure to guard against peaking too early: Because, you know, this time it counts.
Tim Keown is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tim.keown@espn3.com.
