The focal point of watching baseball is watching the pitcher pitch and watching what the batter does with it. So let’s talk about strikes and balls.
Even MOFFs (More Of a Football Fan) knows it’s three strikes and you’re out. That’s so ingrained in our culture that it’s the basis of the California Penal Code. Same thing for baseball. Three strikes and you are out.
If a batter swings at a pitch and misses, that’s a strike. That’s easy. If a batter does not swing at a pitch, the strike zone determines whether a pitch is a strike or a ball. And that’s not so easy.
First, visualize home plate. It’s a pentagon shaped thingy with the pointy piece aimed at the catcher. Imagine home plate like a search light shining straight up into the air. The width of the strike zone is the width of home plate, so the width is the same for every batter.
Now put a batter at that plate. The strike zone goes from his knees to about the chest (technically the midpoint between shoulders and waist.) Think of a line from the chest and a line from the knees extending straight out and dissecting that search light into a box that hovers over the plate. That box becomes the strike zone. And the person who determines if the ball goes through that zone is the umpire hanging over the back of the catcher and wearing the padded IZOD shirt. If a pitch goes through that zone without the batter swinging, the umpire straightens up, turn to his right, does some kind of unique signature hand jive, and yells, "Sttrreeeekkkke!"
If the pitch is outside of that hovering zone and the batter doesn't swing, it’s a ball. Four balls and the batter gets to walk to first base without stress or fear. Did you know that back in the 1800’s, before baseball was standardize, the game was played with four strikes and you’re out, and nine balls before you walked? Imagine how long the games were back then!
When you listen to the announcer, you’ll hear pitch described as high, low, outside, or inside. That’s a description of what kind of pitch it is and where it goes in relationship to the strike zone. High means the ball sailed above the strike zone, low means it bellyed up below the zone, and …. well, you get the idea.
Pretty cut and dried, don’t you think? But au contraire, my little bag of peanuts. Calling a strike is complex. The strike zone changes with each player because it depends on his height, his baseball stance, and to some extent, the umpire's own definition of the strike zone. (Think of it like being fit for a bra. You think that this should be a simple thing, easy to define with everyone using the same tape measure, but in reality, it ain’t necessarily so.)
For example, in 1951, a man named Eddie Gaedel who measured 3' 7" (okay, he was a performer who was also a dwarf) was signed to a one game contract and was put in the line-up to bat for the St. Louis Browns baseball team as a promotional stunt. The strike zone, as you know, was the width of home plate and the length of the space between Eddie’s chest and his knees (which on Eddie measured barely a foot.) The pitcher threw four balls and Eddie walked in his only at-bat. Compare Eddie Gaedel’s strike zone to that of First Baseman Seattle Mariners Richie Sexson who stands 6’ 8” and looks good in a suit and you can start to see the fluidity of the strike zone. Sexson’s strike zone is almost as tall as Eddie Gaedel himself.
I found that unless the pitch is way outside, or sails over the head of the catcher, or forces the batter to duck for safety, it’s sometimes hard to accurately call the ball when you are first learning baseball. Just because your favorite player is up at bat and the umpire calls a strike when he doesn’t swing, don’t think that the umpire is a blind idiot who was recruited from the janitorial crew when the real umpire didn't show up. It doesn’t matter if the batter swings at every good pitch. What matters is that he waits for a pitch that he can swing at it the way he wants to. If the pitch looks good to you and the batter doesn’t swing, you can always take a lesson from The Boyfriend and mutter under your breath, “What was wrong with THAT?” Me? I sometimes like to see if The Boyfriend is paying attention, so when a beautiful pitch rockets fast down the middle of the strike zone and catches the batter looking but not swinging, I like to gush, “That was pretty!” STINK EYE TIME!
Once you start to develop your eye and start recognizing the strike zone and the pitches, you’ll be in a good position to partake of the second all-American pastime -- arguing with the umpire. And that’s what we’ll talk about next.
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