“It was the biggest call of my career, and I kicked the [bleep] out of it….I just cost that kid a perfect game.” — MLB Umpire Jim Joyce
I’ll admit, this is new territory for me. I mean, in my nearly nine months of writing here on HoustonPress.com, I’ve done no fewer than what feels like 200 “Top 5 this” or “Top 10 that” lists, and up until now, I’ve never had to update any of them (mostly because I forget about them a week later).
But Jim Joyce’s boneheaded call at first base last night on what would have been the 27th out of Armando Galarraga’s perfect game came exactly one week after I put the finishing touches on last Thursday’s post “Five Officiating Decisions That Were WAY Worse Than Kendrick Perkins’ Second Technical.”
And now I’m scrambling.
Maybe I’m not ready to rank it, and maybe the ranking doesn’t really
matter. Let’s face it, if you’re an official and your included at
all on any list like this, it means you screwed up. Or as Jim
Joyce would tell you, it means you “kicked the shit out of it.”
If nothing else, events like those which transpired last night at the
end of Galarraga’s should-have-been perfect game demonstrate how out of
touch people are who see social media as a fad when it comes to being a
forum for sports fans (or fans of pretty much anything) to immediately
react — hell, not just immediately react, but vilify, impugn, ridicule
and rabble rouse. And none of those reactions would have been wrong
last night, by the way. Within seconds of the call, not only was my
cell phone blowing up with text messages, but Jim Joyce almost
immediately became the top trending topic on Twitter and the Jim
Joyce-Don Denkinger analogies were flying.
In case you missed it (and at this point, the only way you’ve missed
it is if you don’t watch television, which means you probably don’t
consume blogs either and you aren’t even reading this, but I digress),
Galarraga was one out away from a perfect game against the Cleveland
Indians when the Indians’ Jason Donald grounded to Tigers first baseman
Miguel Cabrera who flipped it to Galarraga covering the base. Galarraga
beat Donald to the bag by a good half a step, but Joyce emphatically
called Donald “safe” at first base.
(This is normally where I’d embed some video from Youtube, but the
MLB Media Kremlin has clearly been working overtime to keep the clips
off of video sharing sites as it has been removed due to licensing
issues on several posts.)
Keep in mind, this would have been three perfect games in baseball in
under a month (Dallas Braden and Roy Halladay with the other two),
which is an other-worldly frequency for something that’s occurred only
20 times in the history of the sport. This would have been the first
perfect game in Tigers history. And granted, while it was far from a
sellout crowd, it was “special moment” deprivation of the highest degree
committed by Joyce.
In one moment of utter ineptitude, Jim Joyce squashed history.
Here’s what makes Joyce’s gaffe even more inexcusable than a
bang-bang call in the heat of battle of a faster-paced sport like
football, basketball, hockey or soccer — he should have been prepared
for this.
The same way that every player on either team before every
pitch goes through scenarios in his head of what to do if the ball is
hit to them, or what to do on the basepaths if the ball is hit in front
of them, behind them, whatever, Joyce had the luxury of (a) readying
himself for the ball to be put into play, (b) no runners on base so he
only had two true responsibilities and possibilities for involvement —
out/safe at first and fair/foul down the line, that’s it, (c) and this
one is most important — he KNEW that we were on the verge of something
special. It was the LAST OUT. Not a bang-bang call in the third inning
that, in retrospect, cost Galarraga a perfect game. There was one play
left in the game, and the play occurred in front of Joyce, and he
booted it.
No two ways about it — if you’re Joyce (or any umpire) and you have
the luxury of knowing something great is one out away, you tell yourself
“if it’s close, he’s out.” In short, you’d much rather allow a
wrongful perfect game than wrongfully prevent a transcendent moment.
Every time.
To the credit of both of the principals involved — Galarraga and
Joyce — they handled the aftermath as well as either could have been
expected to. Joyce met with the media (which unto itself tells you how
rarified the air was for this blunder), apologized, and sought out
Galarraga to tell him in person how sorry he was. Galarraga could not
have been classier, on the field nor in the postgame, saying it was
part of the game and he accepts it. (I can only imagine if Roger Clemens
or Brett Myers were on the mound. Jim Joyce would have left the
stadium in a body bag.)
Bud Selig should accept it, too. There have been whispers that the
commissioner might overturn the Donald “infield hit” and give Galarraga
his deserved perfect game. Keep in mind, Selig has been a staunch
opponent to instant replay’s use in assisting umpires during games,
citing the ever popular (and increasingly incompetent) “human element”
as a critical part of the game’s fabric.
Well Bud, you can’t have it both ways — if you’re an advocate of the
“human element,” you have to accept the good with the bad. The good
is…well, I can’t really think of it right now; the bad is you have
nights like last night, where Jim Joyce became a trending topic on
Twitter and disgraced horrible fu manchu mustache wearers everywhere.
I’d have more respect for Selig if he stuck by his guns — on this play,
on replay in general — than if this play all of a sudden becomes an
impetus for more instant-replay usage. Does the game need it? In my
opinion, of course. But to use this play as the spark for immediate
sweeping change is like enacting a seatbelt law because a head of state
got killed in an accident beltless. What about all of the plays that
got screwed up before this one? Not good enough? The game either needs
replay or it doesn’t — a perfect game merely shines a light on an issue
that Selig didn’t really see as a problem to begin with.
In short, I’m saying I hate flip floppers. Don’t flip flop, Bud.
Stay strong. That said, I now must flip flop on my Five Biggest
Officiating Gaffes. Damn you, Jim Joyce. Now you’re making me look bad. Admittedly, that’s about as easy as the call you blew last
night.
You stay strong, too, Jimbo. And see if Denkinger still has the
number for his therapist.
Listen to Sean Pendergast on 1560 The Game from 3-7 p.m. weekdays
on the “Sean & John Show”, and follow him on Twitter at
http://twitter.com/SeanCablinasian.
This article appears in Jun 3-9, 2010.
