The Official Rules of Baseball Illustrated

by David Nemec

In 1887, along with some idiosyncratic temporary rule changes like awarding a batter a hit for every walk he earned and requiring four strikes instead of three for a strikeout were several enduring revolutionary ones. Among them was a new rule eliminating a batter’s liberty to signal for either a high or a low pitch, a privilege that had belonged to all batters ever since 1867. Of even more significance, the pitcher’s box was reduced to a 4-foot by 5½-foot rectangle, and hurlers for the first time were required to anchor their front foot on or behind the front line of the box before delivering a pitch. Many pitchers saw their careers suffer from this change. Charlie Ferguson, one of the top pitchers in the National League in 1886, was transitioning to second base at the time of his tragic death after the 1887 season. Meanwhile, Ed Morris, arguably the game’s first great southpaw, owned 114 wins after his first three seasons in the majors (1884–86), but won only 57 games thereafter. Most significantly, in 1886, the last year a running start was permitted, Baltimore Orioles rookie left-hander Matt Kilroy fanned an all-time record 513 batters, and another southpaw hurler with Louisville, Tom Ramsey, got 499 hitters to saw the air. The following year, with batters now given four strikes, Ramsey’s whiff total fell to 355 and Kilroy collected just 217 Ks.

  Other than lengthening the pitching distance to its present 60-feet, 6 inches from the plate, the pitching rules were, in essence, permanently established in 1887. It may even be said that as pitchers develop today, meaning from Little League to the major leagues, they only have to overcome a distance change. The rules for delivering the ball remain the same as they were in 1887.

  Incidentally, a pitcher can still deliver a ball underhand like a slow-pitch softball hurler, as Pacific Coast League southpaw Chesty Johnson did on occasion in the early 1950s. But even though there is no limit on the height of a pitch’s arc, underhand “moon” balls are eschewed because they would be crushed by major-league hitters. Cleverly disguised bloopers are another matter. Rip Sewell and Bobo Newsom in the 1930s and 1940s both developed excellent bloopers that were very effective when mixed in with their other deliveries. Sewell called his the “eephus” ball, after Pittsburgh Pirates teammate Maurice Van Robays said the pitch was eephus, which in baseball parlance at that time meant it was nothing. Sewell’s blooper sometimes arced as high as 25 feet, and for years he was able to gloat that no one had ever hit a homer off it. In the 1946 All-Star Game at Boston’s Fenway Park, Ted Williams ended Sewell’s boast by sending one of his eephus balls into orbit in the eighth inning. It was Williams’s second homer in the 12–0 AL rout.

  5.07 (a)

  Pitchers shall take signs from the catcher while in contact with the pitcher’s plate.

  This contingency of Rule 5.07 (a) presumes that signs are always given by the catcher. Even though they often originate from the dugout with a manager or a coach, the pitcher must nonetheless make a pretense of taking his stance on the pitcher’s rubber and facing the catcher before commencing his delivery. There is no definitive evidence when catchers, for the most part, began signaling for pitches. No doubt the opposite often occurred in the early days, with pitchers signaling what they intended to throw. Tony Mullane, one of the most controversial figures in the game’s history, acknowledged after he retired that in 1884, while with Toledo of the American Association, whenever he was caught by Moses Walker—a mixed-race catcher famous for being the first to overtly defy the unwritten color line in major-league baseball—he would ignore Walker’s signals and throw whatever he wanted. Clark Griffith, especially after he became a pitcher-manager, reputedly did the same after signaling his catcher what the pitch would be.

  5.07 (b) Warm-Up Pitches

  When a pitcher takes his position at the beginning of each inning, or when he relieves another pitcher, he shall be permitted to pitch preparatory pitches to his catcher during which play shall be suspended. A league by its own action may limit the number of preparatory pitches and/or may limit the amount of time such preparatory pitches may consume. If a sudden emergency causes a pitcher to be summoned into the game without any opportunity to warm up, the umpire-in-chief shall allow him as many pitches as the umpire deems necessary.

  As early as the aught years of the twentieth century, baseball moguls grew concerned about the increasing length of games, which had often begun lasting as long as two and a half hours. In an effort to shorten matters, both leagues adopted rules to reduce game length. American League president Ban Johnson went so far as to eliminate warmup pitches between innings, decreeing that a pitcher had to be ready as soon as the inning’s opposition leadoff batter had raced in from the field, grabbed his bat, and stepped up to the plate. The new rule was short-lived, however, and pitchers were soon allowed the usual number of warmup pitches again.

  Stuffy McInnis, the owner of an inside-the-park home run during which not even the inkling of a play was made on his batted ball.

  An incident at Boston’s Huntington Avenue Baseball Ground on June 27, 1911, played a decisive role in Johnson’s shamefaced reversal of his own rule. With Philadelphia A’s first baseman Stuffy McInnis due up in the top of the eighth inning, the Red Sox’ Ed Karger, about to work his fifth frame in relief of Smoky Joe Wood, endeavored to lob a few quick warmup tosses to catcher Les Nunamaker. McInnis suddenly darted up to the plate, bat in hand, and smoked Karger’s latest warmup toss deep into right field. Since Boston’s outfielders had yet to take their positions, the ball scooted to the wall. Before anyone could track it down, McInnis had crossed the plate with an inside-the-park home run, one of only 20 dingers he hit in his entire 19-year career.

  Red Sox manager Patsy Donovan vehemently protested McInnis’s gambit, but plate umpire Jack Egan only smiled at him. The game, by the way, took one hour and forty-seven minutes to complete, with Philadelphia winning, 7–3.

  5.07 (c) Pitcher Delays

  When the bases are unoccupied, the pitcher shall deliver the ball to the batter within 12 seconds after he receives the ball. Each time the pitcher delays the game by violating this rule, the umpire shall call “Ball.” The 12-second timing starts when the pitcher is in possession of the ball and the batter is in the box, alert to the pitcher. The timing stops when the pitcher releases the ball.

  Likewise, a batter can be assessed a strike if he fails to step into the batter’s box within five seconds after an umpire calls that time is in. Since these are comparatively new rules, time will tell how strictly they are enforced. The results thus far are not promising. There was talk for a while about installing a 12-second clock (15-second clock when there is a runner or runners on base) in every major-league park so fans could excitedly watch the seconds tick away, but as yet it is no more than talk (although a 20-second clock with no runners on base was implemented in Triple-A leagues in 2015). In 2018, the clock time with no runners on base was shaved to 15 seconds.

  5.07 (d) Throwing to the Bases

  At any time during the pitcher’s preliminary movements and until his natural pitching motion commits him to the pitch, he may throw to any base provided he steps directly toward such base before making the throw.

  Comment: The pitcher shall step “ahead of the throw.” A snap throw followed by the step directly toward the base is a balk.

  For most of the nineteenth century, Rule 5.07 (d) did not exist—even in rudimentary form. Consequently, pitchers like the aforementioned Tony Mullane, who was ambidextrous and did not wear a glove unless he played another position, was thus able to start to deliver a pitch with his right arm and then abruptly shift the ball to his left hand and snap a pickoff throw to any base. Left-hander Matt Kilroy, the all-time single-season strikeout king, early in his career would stand facing the plate and then fire the ball to first base without either looking toward it or stepping in that direction, which was no longer permissible by the time he pitched his final ML innings in 1898. In a game between Louisville and the Philadelphia Athletics of the American Association, the A’s light-hitting infielder Cub Stricker (.217 as a rookie in 1882) had what should
have been a career day on August 29, 1883, when he went 4-for-4, but it was spoiled by the wiles of Louisville pitcher Guy Hecker, who duped Stricker into being picked off base a record three times in a single game. Hecker was among the numerous pitchers severely impacted by the elimination of hop, skip and jump deliveries. Stricker’s unwanted record was later tied by Benny Kauff of the New York Giants on May 26, 1916, at the merciless hands of the Braves’ Lefty Tyler.

  5.07 (f) Ambidextrous Pitchers

  A pitcher must indicate visually to the umpire-in-chief, the batter and any runners the hand with which he intends to pitch, which may be done by wearing his glove on the other hand while touching the pitcher’s plate. The pitcher is not permitted to pitch with the other hand until the batter is retired, the batter becomes a runner, the inning ends, the batter is substituted for by a pinch-hitter or the pitcher incurs an injury. In the event a pitcher switches pitching hands during an at-bat because he has suffered an injury, the pitcher may not, for the remainder of the game, pitch with the hand from which he has switched. The pitcher shall not be given the opportunity to throw any preparatory pitches after switching pitching hands. Any change of pitching hands must be indicated clearly to the umpire-in-chief.

  Known colloquially as the “Venditte Rule,” this rule first appeared in its entirety when Pat Venditte, a switch-pitcher (capable of pitching proficiently with both arms), entered the professional ranks. After a successful career at Creighton University, Venditte was drafted in the 20th round by the New York Yankees in 2008. He labored seven years in the minors, mostly as a relief pitcher, before making his first major-league appearance in 2015 with the Oakland A’s. Reasonably successful as a rookie, with a 1.19 WHIP in 22 games, all in relief, Venditte has since struggled. In 2018, after a good season with Lehigh Valley in the International League the previous year, Venditte was signed by the Dodgers. He lasted only 14 innings before being sent to Oklahoma City of the Pacific Coast League where he again shone, fashioning a 0.86 WHIP in 45 games. The 2019 season was a virtual repeat. In two appearances with the Giants, Venditte compiled a 16.20 ERA and then spent the rest of the campaign in Triple A. Now thirty-four, Venditte has proven over and over that his dual-armed talents work at the minor-league level but has yet to stick for a full season in the majors.

  Preceding Venditte were several major-league hurlers who switch-pitched on one or two occasions, but none with anywhere near the proficiency of Tony Mullane, the winner of 284 games in the 1880s and early ’90s. A one-year suspension in 1885 for contract jumping and suspicions that some of the games he lost might not have been on the level have thus far worked to deny him a spot in the Hall of Fame. Mullane was not only a frequent switch-thrower but also a switch-hitter and a fine all-around player. Early in the 1882 season, while playing for Louisville, in addition to hurling the first American Association no-hitter he became the first AA performer to steal second, third, and home in a single turn on the bases.

  Tony Mullane was said to have two faces as well as the equal use of both arms on the ball field. The “Mr. Hyde” face engaged in contract jumping and was suspected at times of throwing games. The “Dr. Jekyll” face flat out belongs on a Hall of Fame plaque.

  With Mullane’s departure went a one-of-a kind player, and the majors have not seen anything approaching his like since 1894. However, ambidextrous hurlers other than Venditte turn up now and again in the minors, usually just to provide box office appeal, although occasionally with a serious purpose. In an attempt to stifle Joe Bauman, a legendary left-handed slugger in the low minors who hit a minors-record 72 home runs in 1954, Audie Malone, normally a right hander, resorted to using his left arm when he squared off against Bauman, then with Artesia, in a Longhorn League game on July 4, 1952. Pitching for the Roswell Rockets, Malone got Bauman to fan on a slow curve in the first inning. But Bauman singled in his only other appearance against Malone, who was markedly unsuccessful against the rest of the Artesia lineup. He was pelted from the mound in the fourth inning and charged with a 12–8 loss. For the year, Malone posted a 12–16 record and a 5.45 ERA, whereas Bauman led the Texas circuit with 50 homers and 157 RBIs.

  5.08 How a Team Scores

  (a) One run shall be scored each time a runner legally advances to and touches first, second, third and home base before three men are put out to end the inning.

  EXCEPTION: A run is not scored if the runner advances to home base during a play in which the third out is made (1) by the batter-runner before he touches first base; (2) by any runner being forced out; or (3) by a preceding runner who is declared out because he failed to touch one of the bases.

  Note contingency (2) under the EXCEPTION clause. Its strict interpretation resulted in arguably the most controversial force out in major league history.

  On September 23, 1908, in a game at the Polo Grounds against the Chicago Cubs with the NL pennant hinging on the outcome, New York Giants manager John McGraw chose Fred Merkle to replace regular first sacker Fred Tenney, who was idled by an ailing back. Then in just his second season with the Giants, Merkle rarely played but was privileged to sit on the bench beside McGraw, reputedly one of the keenest minds in the game.

  With the score tied, 1–1, in the bottom of the ninth and two outs, the Giants had Moose McCormick on third and Merkle on first. Al Bridwell then shot a single to center, sending McCormick home with the apparent winning run. Upon seeing that Bridwell’s hit would plate McCormick, Merkle started toward the Giants’ clubhouse in center field, believing he had no further role in events. But when Cubs second baseman Johnny Evers began clamoring for the ball, Merkle got a sinking feeling that perhaps he had exited the stage prematurely.

  What happened next will forever be contested. New York sportswriters at the Polo Grounds that afternoon swore that Merkle made for second base at that point and got there ahead of the throw to Evers, and even if he had not beaten it, the ball Evers was fed was not the one in play but another ball that was substituted. The game ball, according to some witnesses, somehow wound up in the possession of Giants pitcher Joe McGinnity, who flung it into the left-field bleachers. Chicago correspondents, on the other hand, swore that Rube Kroh, a seldom-used Cubs pitcher, wrestled the game ball away from McGinnity and flipped it to Evers long before Merkle arrived at the second-base bag. In any event, base umpire Bob Emslie claimed the crowd that had flooded onto the field after Bridwell’s hit seemingly won the game blocked him from seeing the play at second, and the onus for making a decision fell on plate umpire Hank O’Day. After a lengthy delay, O’Day emerged from a conference with Emslie to rule that Merkle had been forced out at second and the game was still tied. Since it was impossible to clear the spectators off the field so the contest could continue, Cubs manager Frank Chance demanded a forfeit victory, but it went into the books as a 1–1 draw.

  When the Giants and the Cubs finished the season deadlocked, the tie game had to be replayed. Three Finger Brown won the makeup contest for Chicago in relief of Jack Pfiester, outdueling Christy Mathewson, and the Cubs went on to best Detroit in the World Series and earn their last world championship prior to 2016.

  Christy Mathewson logged 373 regular season wins but lost probably the most important game he ever pitched, the replay of the infamous Merkle game that decided the 1908 National League pennant.

  Merkle’s failure to touch second haunted him for the rest of his life, but the real goat should have been John McGraw. The nineteen-year-old Merkle was only following a slipshod custom—runners as late as 1908 often did not bother to touch the next base on a “sudden death” hit and some batters, most notoriously Boston’s Chick Stahl, did not even bother to touch first base when a hit of his seemingly drove in the winning run. But on September 4, some three weeks before Merkle’s boner, Johnny Evers had endeavored to have Warren Gill of the Pittsburgh Pirates called out by O’Day on a nearly identical play. O’Day demurred at the time but later that night, after debating the issue with Evers in a Pittsburgh hotel lobby, he realized that Evers
had a valid argument. Since the Gill incident was widely reported, it ought to have been incumbent upon McGraw to remind his players of what Evers had tried to contrive against the Pirates, particularly when a repeat attempt was an imminent possibility with two out in the ninth and Giants runners at the corners.

  Strangely, both the history of the problematical custom Merkle was following and documentation of successful attempts previous to Evers’s to frustrate it have thus far eluded researchers. Though Evers today is considered to have been an ingenious groundbreaker, there were other efforts at the major-league level prior to the Gill incident to have a runner who neglected to touch a base as required by rule called out after an apparent sudden death hit. But for a parallel to events at the Polo Grounds on September 23, 1908, one must scour minor-league history to find a documented episode in which an umpire declared a runner on first forced out for failing to touch second after the supposed winning run crossed the plate. In a Western League game at Indianapolis on June 11, 1899, St. Paul pitcher Chauncey Fisher, after squandering an 11–5 lead, found himself trailing the Hoosiers, 12–11, in the bottom of the ninth inning. Facing Indianapolis’s Doc Newton, Fisher singled to bring home teammate Frank Shugart with the tying run and move his catcher, Harry Spies, to third base. Eddie Burke then lined a single to George Hogriever in center field to plate Spies with the apparent winning run. Before running to second base, however, Fisher stopped to congratulate Burke for his hit, and Hogriever immediately sprinted to second and appealed to umpire Al Manassau. Manassau ruled Fisher forced out at second and disallowed the winning run, but not until the crowd had streamed onto the field and players from both teams had left the diamond, believing St. Paul had won the game. When Manassau could not clear the field, the final score was ruled to be 12–12. Manassau’s decision was subsequently protested by St. Paul manager Charlie Comiskey, but one Briggs, The Sporting News’s St. Paul correspondent who witnessed the game, said Fisher’s maneuver “was a chump play and I think there is no doubt but what the umpire’s decision will be upheld.” Given the fact that The Sporting News in that era was read from cover to cover weekly by players, managers, umpires, and fans at every level of the game, one can only marvel more than a century later how nine more years could have elapsed before a similar play and ruling occurred in a major-league contest.