Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga was one out away from a perfect game Wednesday – he retired the first 26 batters he faced, without surrendering a hit, a walk, an error, anything. No one had reached base against him.
The 27th batter, Cleveland’s Jason Donald, smacked a ground ball to the right side of the infield. First baseman Miguel Cabrera ran to his right, fielded the ball, and threw to Galarraga, who was covering first. The pitcher caught the ball, and tagged the base, nearly a full step ahead of the runner. That should have been the 27th out. And Galarraga should have been credited with the 3rd perfect game in Major League Baseball this season.
Except umpire Jim Joyce called the runner safe. Unfortunately, replays clearly showed Joyce just plain got the call wrong. Joyce admitted his error after the game, and apologized to Galarraga.
Players, coaches, fans, broadcasters, writers, pretty much anyone who saw the play in person or on TV initially came down hard on Mr. Joyce. Some still are this morning. But I won’t join them.
I have enormous sympathy for umpires. I’ve long forgiven another unfortunately infamous ump, Don Denkinger, for a similar blown call at first in the 1985 World Series, a call which contributed to the St. Louis Cardinals’ eventual collapse at the hands of the Kansas City Royals. If, as a Cardinal fan, I had ever felt any real anger towards Denkinger, it completely evaporated when I heard him interviewed on the public radio program Weekend America in 2005. Denkinger described how he and his family were harassed, and even received death threats, for years following that series.
Sure, umpires get paid well to make calls under pressure, but think about it: how many of us, in our day-to-day jobs, have to make split-second decisions like umpires make. And how many of us have to say or do something that’s witnessed, live, by thousands of people?
Well, actually, as it turns out, I fall into that category.
As I interview our guests, and talk with callers on Radio Smart Talk, the conversations are witnessed by, roughly, a baseball stadium full of people each week. They’re not all in one place, of course – they’re in their cars, or at home, or at work, but collectively, we essentially broadcast to a ballpark-sized crowd.
And like Mr. Joyce, I sometimes get it wrong. And boy do I hear about it when I do!
Quick example – last year, one of our more popular programs examined regional colloquialisms. It was an entertaining and informative hour, as we discussed a wide range of terms, situations, and various matters linguistic. We even won a Pennsylvania AP Broadcasters award for it. But unlike Mr. Galarraga Wednesday night, I wasn’t perfect during the show. At one point, while discussing how some Yiddish words and phrases have found their way into conversational English, I made an off-handed remark about Yiddish being, essentially, a “dead language.” That comment sparked an extensive online debate among linguaphiles about what constitutes “dead,” linguistically speaking. By and large they admonished my statement, offering various examples of places where Yiddish is still spoken around the world. I offered an online mea culpa, which was quickly accepted.
The point is – I’m human. So is Mr. Joyce. So was Mr. Denkinger in 1985. And human beings, under pressure, will sometimes make mistakes.
So, I’m not inclined to join the many, many voices criticizing Joyce.
But I do believe in finding ways to ‘make right’ moments when we ‘get it wrong’. Joyce has already apologized to Galarraga, but more could be done.
I humbly offer this solution to Major League Baseball: Commissioner Bud Selig, in the best interests of the game, could make an announcement today that baseball is instituting a new rule, to go into effect immediately, which allows officials to consult a video replay on any play that decides a game (in the ninth inning or later). He could further announce that, as Commissioner, he’s instituting the rule retroactively, by about 24 hours! As such, after reviewing all available replays, he can conclude the Tigers retired the 27th batter, and Galarraga can have his perfect game. Since Galarraga retired the next batter, that one at-bat would have to be wiped out. But otherwise, the decision would not affect anything else, including the outcome of the game, the standings, or the integrity of any record books. It just lets an umpire, who by all accounts is pretty darned good at his job, off the hook for one very poorly-timed mistake.
Just a suggestion from a human being who also sometimes gets it wrong, but also strives, when possible, to make it right.
- Craig Cohen
