...Thoughts on the Imperfect Game

The poet Walt Whitman wrote, “I see great things in baseball. It's our game - the American game.”  What Whitman saw practiced in this game were idealistic elements that he believed were also present and virtuous in the societal dynamics of his day.  Baseball practiced and promoted the principles of excellence obtained from hard work, the collective reward of teamwork and the adherence to the rules and the conduct of fair play.  In the 150 odd years since Whitman made these observations, the game has certainly lost some of its grip on our collective conscience and moved subtly away from its ethical underpinnings.  For years now, baseball has let itself be framed by profit value parameters.  Player's openly shun allegiances to become free agents out of financial self-interest and owners display little loyalty toward their rosters or respect for their fans as they greedily pursue revenue.  Access to the game has become prohibitive and traditions have been trampled all for the sake of self-interest and immediate profit.  The epitome of this greediness was displayed in 1994, when the World Series was canceled because neither the players nor the owners could figure out a "fair way" to divide up several 100 millions of dollars between them!  As a result of this hijacked focus, baseball has subjected itself to scandals, off-field shenanigans and all too often on-field play that is void of passion.  The ideals that Whitman saw in "our game" now seem lost or at very best are serving as a facade to mask the latent corruption of this business disguised as a game.  Pitch counts, steroids, strikeouts without humility, quality starts, etc., are all marketed as "modern strategies," instead of the substandard credentials that they really represent.  Has the game we all grew up playing, watching and loving really become as captious as this modern view would suggest?  Near the end of his life when told that, "Baseball [was] the hurrah game of the republic!"  Whitman responded, "That's beautiful..."  Eighty years later the "hurrah" had been replaced by a pathetic "woo" and an indifferent "hey," while the new question had become, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you, (Woo, woo, woo.)  What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson, Joltin' Joe has left and gone away, (Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey.)"  One week ago this may have changed.

There is no need to rehash the events of last Wednesday's Indian-Tiger game.  The indisputable evidence shows that umpire Jim Joyce's call was mistaken.  The "villain" in blue has been ridiculed, apologized and hugged; the "victim" in uniform has been applauded, lauded and rewarded; and the "viceroy" in the commissioner's office has ruled dispassionately, emphatically and not popularly.  Even the White House put out an opinion summary on the matter.  Although now waning, the campfires remain lit and sentries still post watch around those holding an opposing opinion to the commissioner.  Borrowing from Roger Angell, the "Poet Laureate of baseball," to oppose these populists would subject you to their "icy scorn... ...which is almost unanswerable.  Almost. What is left out of this calculation... ... is the business of caring... ...caring deeply and passionately, really caring."  So the populist's narrative is void of passion and can be characterized as no more than an indifferent, knee-jerk quotient.  It is passion that actually allows us to see beyond the existential truth of a runner being called out and that call being wrong.  It is passion that lifts us to solution above the populist's cries to do the "right thing" and just change it!

The sense of right and wrong derives its moral motivation from an individual's cohesion with his or her community rather than from some obscure theorem.  Moral responsibilities are cloaked in our identity and our identity is cloaked in and defined by our communities.  Human imperfection is something we all share and is part of the game of baseball.  (There is even a defined and official statistic - it is called, Errors.)  In this light, Joyce's call is no more "right or wrong" or "good or bad" than a misplaced pebble leading to a "bad hop", a "lost fly ball in the sun" or a throw "missing the cutoff man."  Moreover Jim Joyce's admission of committing an "error" and Galarraga's acceptance of his contrition can be viewed as an expression of a proper, protected and binding ethical relationship based on the mutual faith each holds in the other.  That is the extent to which moral responsibility can be practiced in this situation -- and that is good enough.  To call for Selig to change the game's outcome based on the ad hoc introduction of video tape, is an opprobrious and forsaken view -- a betrayal of the existing trust present within the baseball community -- the community of players, umpires, management and fans.  Thankfully, Mr. Selig did not do this.

Why 90 years ago did a little boy ask Joe Jackson to refute the Black Sox allegations?  Why 50 years ago did Ford Frick's asterisk annoy not just Roger Maris, but everyone?  Why 8 years ago did the all-star game ending in a tie tick us all off?  Why does PED use bother us?  Why have we always and continue to care about any of it?  In part it is because we each recognize on some level that the introduction of a foreign morality scale to be applied to our self-defined and communal values is not "right," but fundamentally "wrong."  It is why the Black Sox remain quarantined. It is why we all smiled when we heard that the asterisk had been removed from the end of Roger's last name and it is why we will find it hard for any of the PED cheaters to enter our HOF after disrespecting, dishonoring and disgracing themselves, our game and our trust.  But more importantly for the moment here, it is why a week later the outcome of the "Imperfect Game" seems to stand on more ethical ground than it did last Thursday morning.

The late Bart Giamatti, speaking about baseball said, "It breaks your heart.  It is designed to break your heart..."  Perhaps, for some of us, the fear of having our hearts broken, has been surpassed by our love of the game.