A Simple Solution

As we start the second half of the 2011 Major League Baseball season, we've seen a record(?) number of first half manager and player ejections with 119 (and a few more over the weekend). Tigers manager Jim Leyland had this to say about the current climate in MLB:

"For some reason, it appears to me that the tension level is much more than it should be between managers, players, coaches and umpires. I know Joe Torre (Major League Baseball's executive vice-president of operations) is trying to get it resolved, but right now the tension seems worse. I'm not just talking about us. I'm talking throughout baseball. I'm not criticizing anybody in particular, but I'm making the point that we all have to work together to resolve this situation because it's getting out of hand." 

Why is everyone so jacked up? First, there are some bad umps like Angel Hernandez who regularly miss calls, causing the wronged team's manager to lose his shit. I also feel like umpires are out of position quite a lot. And of course there are always going to the "bang-bang" plays when the ump has to take a guess. But the real issue is that umpires are under more pressure than they've ever been under before. With high def TV and the networks having every camera angle possible, the viewer can instantly see when an umpire has blown a call. I've heard that arguing managers will tell umpires things like, "Wait till you see the replay. You're gonna look bad." Actually, I heard this from Keith Hernandez during a Mets telecast.

There's Leyland. Arguments could be a thing of the past.

But whether a missed call is an egregious or honest mistake, there's an easy solution. It's so simple that it must have been thought of already. A 5th (or during the playoffs, a 7th) umpire who has both the home and away television feeds and can automatically correct a missed call on the field. We can call him The Overlord. Why do umps have to leave the field to review a tough homerun call? Just let The Overlord handle it. Blown call at first base by a normally reliable umpire that costs a young pitcher a perfect game? The Overlord steps in. He can flash his ruling on the scoreboard. Reviews wouldn't take more than 10 seconds would they? Again, the camera angles, slo-mo, and HD are so good now, you can determine the call in one, maybe two replays. The natural pace of the game allows for these calls to be corrected before the next pitch is thrown. If the call on the field is correct, nothing happens. Look at replays in tennis. They take a few seconds, they're exciting, and they're conclusive. Maybe MLB can borrow some of that technology. In fact, I believe Japanese professional baseball already has. They'd better, since you're allowed to berate the umpire without fear of ejection.

Why can't this work? Seriously, tell me. Unlike the NFL, baseball doesn't manufacture opportunities for ad revenue. That's why the NFL will never improve (shorten) their replay process. So MLB wouldn't lose anything by adopting my idea. And don't even give me the "human element" argument. Isn't that what starts wars? The human element is overrated. Now, I'm going to immediately contradict myself. I don't think things like K-Zone or Pitch Trax should be used to officially determine balls and strikes. I just don't. That really would slow the game down. But most other plays could be reviewed with minimal effect on game time.

Embrace The Overlord.

Tour de France 101

The Tour de France is a 5000 mile bike race across France and some other countries. It started a long time ago and the riders used to smoke cigarettes during the race, but now they drink water. There are approximately 2000 participants, although only a half dozen have a realistic chance to win. The race takes place over three weeks, but the first week is kinda bullshit since all the race courses (called stages) are mostly flat and not too challenging. In the 80's, the Tour was starting to lose popularity when riders started realizing they had no chance to win the thing. So race organizers introduced other little prizes for some of the less talented riders to compete for. 

For example, the rider who maintains the least body hair over the three weeks gets to wear the coveted Pinkish Jersey. In fact, most of the Tour is based around who gets to wear the prettiest shirt, which makes sense since France is a very fashionable place. The riders are split up into different teams with names that have nothing to do with cycling. Teams are usually named after banks, cell phone manufacturers, GPS devices, electronics stores, and ballroom dances. Each team has either one or zero team members who can win. So if you're on one of the teams with a guy who can win, you want to be that guy, otherwise you are called a "domestique" which is French for "sucker who has to work his ass off so someone else can maybe win, but there is no way you will win."

So after the first week of competition (which again, is almost totally meaningless) the Tour reaches the mountain stages. This is when all the phonies who have been kicking ass start to suck, and all the guys who have been sucking start to kick ass. These stages are obviously very challenging, requiring increased fluid intake. Bonus points are awarded for riders who can hit spectators with their empty water bottles. 

The main pack of riders is called the "peloton" which is French for "platoon." It's a great place to be since you can draft, chat with your competitors, even give them a pinch on the hiney. Also, if the peloton consists of 500 riders, the 500th rider gets credited with the same finishing time as the first rider in the peloton. No one ever said the Tour de France is fair. However, this is also where absolutely brutal crashes take place. NASCAR fans love this.

Motorcycles and pedestrians can also compete in The Tour, often with tragic results.

There are a lot of unwritten rules in the Tour. If someone's chain comes off, you have to let them catch back up so they don't cry. You're also allowed to actually hold on to moving cars during the race, but not for too long. So at the end of the three weeks, the rider wearing the Yellow Jersey wins. The sneakiest riders will grab the Yellow Jersey when the guy who has it is sleeping. Also, the Tour is really only 2 weeks and 6 days long, since the last day is only ceremonial, with many riders sipping expensive champagne while riding their bikes up the Champs Elysses, or however you spell it. They change the rules all the time, so see you next year for the updated lesson. Au revior!