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The Official Rules of Baseball Illustrated

Page 22

by David Nemec


  Observe that this rule is a comparatively recent revision of the old rule that allowed a team manager to wait after noticing a batter has batted out of turn until the batting snafu produces a positive result for the offending team. Here is the old rule in action.

  On August 2, 1923, in the first game of a doubleheader at Washington, St. Louis Browns skipper Lee Fohl, a compulsive batting order juggler, had not just two but four players batting out of order—outfielders Ken Williams and Baby Doll Jacobson, plus shortstop Wally Gerber and catcher Hank Severeid. The Williams-Jacobson mistake was rectified in the top of the first inning when Williams, who was listed in the fourth spot, batted third and walked, a positive result. Washington skipper Donie Bush protested immediately and Jacobson, who should have been hitting ahead of Williams, was declared out and Williams made to bat again. Even though Bush also noticed early in the game that Gerber and Severeid had switched positions in the batting order, he held his powder for their first three trips through the order because neither of them did anything positive. But in the ninth inning, when Gerber singled a runner to third with two out, Bush spoke up that Gerber was batting in Severeid’s sixth spot in the order. His timing was impeccable. Plate umpire Red Ormsby ruled Severeid out to end the game and effectively erase Gerber’s lone hit on the day.

  Personally, this author prefers the old rule. Anything that requires a manager to strategize on the fly as the game progresses I’m for.

  6.04 Unsportsmanlike Conduct

  (c) No fielder shall take a position in the batter’s line of vision, and with deliberate unsportsmanlike intent, act in a manner to distract the batter.

  During one of his at-bats against the New York Giants at Braves Field on August 9, 1950, Boston third baseman Bob Elliott requested that umpire Augie Donetelli shift his positioning slightly—Donatelli, the roving umpire on a three-man crew, was in Elliott’s line of vision, making it difficult for him to pick up the baseball. When Donatelli complied, Giants second baseman Eddie Stanky saw his chance to further rattle Elliott. Before the next pitch, he sidled over to where Donatelli had been standing and began doing jumping jacks.

  Elliott pretended not to see Stanky’s antics, and the game proceeded without incident. On August 11, against the Phillies at Shibe Park, Stanky decided to see if his new “calisthenics” routine could rile Philadelphia’s hotheaded catcher Andy Seminick. This time Stanky evoked the reaction he was aiming for—Seminick stepped out of the batter’s box and demanded that home plate umpire Al Barlick make Stanky cease his antics. Barlick conferred with his three fellow umpires, one of them Donatelli, and Donatelli informed his crew that they had a problem. He had seen Stanky perform this same stunt just two days earlier and consulted the rule book after the game. Therein he discovered that Major League Baseball had lasted for nearly seventy years without ever having cause to outlaw jumping up and down in a batter’s line of vision. Hence Barlick had no choice but to allow Stanky to continue for the rest of the game and then contact National League President Ford Frick afterward in an effort to get some clarification.

  Failing to locate Frick prior to the next afternoon’s game, the umpiring crew went to Stanky’s manager, Leo Durocher, and requested that he tell Stanky to drop his jumping jacks act until an official ruling could be made. But Durocher, who had once said there was nothing Stanky could do well on the ball field except beat you, instructed Stanky to continue doing as he pleased. When Stanky did so and added waving his arms exaggeratedly that afternoon, tempers flared. In the second inning, Seminick broke Giants third baseman Hank Thompson’s jaw with his elbow on a hard slide into third. By the fourth inning, second-base umpire Lon Warneke felt he was left with no choice but to eject Stanky when he again waved his arms with Seminick at bat, but it was too little too late. In sliding into second base later in the inning, Seminick took out Stanky’s replacement, Bill Rigney, and detonated a benches-clearing brawl that took the NYPD’s help to subdue it and Warneke having to eject both Rigney and Seminick. After the game, Frick was finally heard from. He instructed all his umpires in the future to eject fielders for “antics on the field designed or intended to annoy or disturb the opposing batsman.” Though the language has changed and expanded, the rule has remained on the books ever since. A form of it actually first appeared in 1931 and may have been what Frick finally stumbled on when he was pushed for help by his umpires.

  6.04 (e) (4.08)

  When the occupants of a player’s bench show violent disapproval of an umpire’s decision, the umpire shall first give warning that such disapproval shall cease.

  PENALTY: [If such action continues] The umpire shall order the offenders from the bench to the club house. If he is unable to detect the offender, or offenders, he may clear the bench of all substitute players. The manager of the offending team shall have the privilege of recalling to the playing field only those players needed for substitution in the game.

  On numerous occasions, an umpire has invoked the ultimate power bestowed on him in Rule 6.04 (e) (4.08) and expelled every player on a team’s bench from a game. One of the most volatile incidents occurred on September 27, 1951, in a game between the Brooklyn Dodgers and Boston Braves at Braves Field which resulted in the only ejection of a player who never participated in a major league game. Trying to hold a slim first-place lead over the onrushing New York Giants, the Dodgers were tied, 3–3, with Boston in the bottom of the eighth when Jackie Robinson speared a groundball and fired it home to catcher Roy Campanella seemingly in time to nail Bob Addis trying to score from third . . . but plate umpire Frank Dascoli called Addis safe. Campanella was swiftly dispatched for arguing, coach Cookie Lavagetto soon followed when the debate continued to rage, and finally Dascoli cleared the entire Dodgers bench.

  Among the record 15 players who were banished was outfielder Bill Sharman, just up from the Dodgers’ Forth Worth farm club in the Texas League after the club had finished its season. Sharman failed to get into a game with Brooklyn in 1951, however, and then quit baseball after one more season in the minors to pursue an NBA career. After joining Bob Cousy, Bill Russell, and Sam Jones to play on several championship Boston Celtics teams, Sharman eventually made the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame, but he never had the thrill of seeing his name in a major-league box score, even though it once appeared in an umpire’s report on players who were booted from the game.

  7.00: Ending the Game

  7.01 Regulation Games

  A regulation game consists of nine innings, unless extended because of a tie score, or shortened (1) because the home team needs none of its half of the ninth inning or only a fraction of it, or (2) because the umpire-in-chief calls the game.

  For the many historians who consider the National Association a major league, the first official major-league game took place on May 4, 1871, at Fort Wayne, between the Kekiongas of Fort Wayne and the Cleveland Forest Citys. The Kekiongas, behind pitcher Bobby Mathews, in an extraordinarily well-played game for the time, took a 2–0 lead into the top of the ninth. The visitors failed to score, but because the rules throughout the National Association era and as late as 1879 required that a full game be played even if the bottom of the ninth inning was meaningless—as was the case on this day—the Kekiongas had to take their raps.

  Apart from giving fans a full nine innings for their money, the rule served no useful purpose and if anything invited abuses. Professional baseball in its infancy was rife with gamblers eager for an edge and also a fair number of players willing to provide them with one for a price. Games that went the full nine innings with the winner already determined in the top half of the ninth were prime meat—especially games between weak teams and strong ones. A popular scenario, once it was determined the heavy favorite would bat last, involved wagering the favorite would not score any runs in its last raps if enough players on the favored team were in on the bet and willing to cooperate. It generally proved to be a sucker’s bet, and there were others if, say, the pitcher on a heavy underdog had been
reached beforehand and coaxed to surrender an agreed upon minimum number of runs or hits in the bottom of the ninth. Fortunately, the majority of players continued to play their best after the final verdict was decided, but others just went through the motions, reluctant to expend extra energy or risk injury during a half inning whose only import was that all the statistics in it counted.

  The last date all major-league games went a full nine innings regardless of which team led after the top of the ninth was on September 30, 1879, the final day of the only MLB season ever to feature the two top contenders—Providence and Boston—ending the campaign by meeting six games in a row to decide the NL pennant. Another memorable first occurred on Opening Day the following season: the first walk-off or sudden death hit in major-league history. On May 1, 1880, at Cincinnati, visiting Chicago batted last and trailed the Reds, 3–2, in the bottom of the ninth. After Chicago’s vaunted rookie pitcher Larry Corcoran opened the frame with single, an error by Cincinnati shortstop Sam Wright put Chicago shortstop Tom Burns on board and both came home soon thereafter when Cincinnati right fielder Jack Manning threw Joe Quest’s routine single over Reds catcher John Clapp’s head, allowing the game to end, 4–3, the moment Burns, the trailing runner, touched home. Had there been a third runner on base and he too had scored, his tally would not have counted because the game officially ended the moment Burns, the winning run, crossed the plate.

  7.01 (b)

  If the score is tied after nine completed innings play shall continue until (1) the visiting team has scored more total runs than the home team at the end of a completed inning, or (2) the home team scores the winning run in an uncompleted inning.

  Although this rule that normal play shall continue still applies in the major leagues, it may soon become obsolete. Already some minor leagues are experimenting with having each team start every extra frame with a runner on second and none out. What’s more, the 2019 All-Star Game was chosen to showcase the experiment at the major-league level if the game was tied after 12 innings. (Happily, the American League won, 4–3, in regulation, obviating the need for experimentation.) The rule is an unpopular one thus far, even though its purpose is to promote more scoring and curb the number of protracted games that reduce their audiences with each passing inning and also, importantly, deplete the bullpens of both teams to a point where they end with a position player having to take the mound when the game is still in doubt, usually with farcical consequences.

  If this rule were to become part of the major-league fabric, it is first going to require some deep thought on how to score it. Does a pitcher still retain his perfect game if he starts the 10th inning with a runner on second base? If so, does he lose both it and his no-hit bid if that runner is hit by a batted ball, making the third out in an otherwise unblemished inning? And who will start each extra frame occupying second base? The same runner each inning? A different runner each inning? The last out of the previous inning? A player chosen by the opposition? Or—perish the thought—if the game goes long enough and both benches are emptied, a player who’s already been in the game?

  7.01 (d)

  If a regulation game is called with the score tied, it shall become a suspended game. See Rule 7.02.

  Ties were frequent in the days when games could not be finished due to darkness or were forbidden from turning on their lights turned if the game began in daylight. A game nowadays that is halted with the score tied is treated as a suspended game and finished at a later time. However, ties do still exist. A recent one occurred on September 29, 2016, in a game at Pittsburgh’s PNC Park when the Pirates and Cubs were deadlocked at 1–1 in the sixth inning when heavy rain stopped play for over an hour and the game was eventually called by plate umpire Brian Gorman. The tie was the first since 2005, and was declared such rather than a suspended game because the two teams were not scheduled to play again in 2016 and the Cubs had already clinched home-field advantage throughout the National League playoffs while the Pirates were out of contention, eliminating any substantive reason to make up the game.

  7.01 (e)

  If a game is postponed or otherwise called before it has become a regulation game, the umpire-in-chief shall declare it “No Game,” unless the game is called pursuant to Rules 7.02 (a) (3) or 7.02 (a) (4), which shall be a suspended game at any time after it starts.

  Rule 7.01 Comment: The Major Leagues have determined that Rules 7.01 (c) and 7.01 (e) do not apply to any Wild Card, Division Series, League Championship Series or World Series games or for any additional Major League championship season game played to break a tie.

  Prior to 2008, postseason games did not have different rules from regular season ones regarding suspended games. As a result, over the years there were several tie games in World Series play. For those who accept that the annual postseason World’s Series contests between the American Association and the National League, which ran from 1884 through 1890, were the first World Series games between two rival major leagues, ironically the last such best-of-seven postseason—the 1890 World’s Series between the Brooklyn Bridegrooms and the Louisville Cyclones—ended tied at three games apiece because Game Three on October 20 at Louisville had resulted in a 7–7 draw called by darkness after eight innings. And, due to miserable weather, it precluded any desire by either side to play a decisive Game Eight, as eventually did occur for the first time in the 1912 World Series.

  The first application of the Rule 7.01 special comment came in Game Five of the 2008 World Series between the Tampa Bay Rays and Philadelphia Phillies at Philadelphia’s Citizens Bank Park on October 27. The first suspended game in World Series history was halted by heavy rain and winds with the score tied, 2–2, in the bottom of the sixth after the Rays had tied the game in the top of the frame. Owing to lingering bad weather, the game was not resumed until October 29, and even then the temperature at game time was a blustery 44 degrees. The Phillies promptly scored a run in the bottom of the sixth and the game ended with Philadelphia winning, 4–3, on Eric Bruntlett’s run in the bottom of the seventh and taking the World Series in five games.

  Commissioner Bud Selig later decreed that the game would have been suspended even if the Rays had not tied it, regardless of what the rule book stated. The next month, Major League Baseball instituted a rule stating that no postseason games nor any games with potential postseason significance—such as All-Star Games and tiebreaker games for division titles or wild cards—could be shortened due to weather. All games in those instances are suspended and completed at a later date from the point of termination, even if they are not yet regulation games.

  Yes, the rule at first included All-Star Games, but that part was dropped prior to the 2017 season. Their results no longer have any bearing on which league hosts the World Series opener and even desultory fans know their inclusion stems from the 2002 All-Star fiasco at Milwaukee that Selig ruled a 7–7 tie when both teams ran out of pitchers.

  7.01 (g) (3)

  If the home team scores the winning run in its half of the ninth inning (or its half of an extra inning after a tie), the game ends immediately when the winning run is scored.

  EXCEPTION: If the last batter in a game hits a home run out of the playing field, the batter-runner and all runners on base are permitted to score, in accordance with the base-running rules, and the game ends when the batter-runner touches home plate.

  The exception to the present rule enabling a team to win by more than one run when a game is ended by a sudden death home run was first added in 1920. Before then, the rule was firm that a team batting last could not win by more than one run when it won the game in walk-off fashion in the ninth or an extra inning. If with the score tied and the bases loaded a player hit a sudden death outside-the-park home run, rather than a grand slam he was given credit only for one RBI (the number of runs needed to win the game) and a single (the number of bases the runner scoring the winning tally needed to make). Among the 38 players who lost home runs to the old rule was Babe Ruth. When Ruth homered off S
tan Coveleski for Boston on July 8, 1918, with Red Sox teammate Amos Strunk on first base to end a ten-inning 0–0 game with Cleveland, he was credited at the time with only a triple.

  In 1968, the Special Baseball Records Committee—which was formed to resolve historical disparities or errors—voted to credit all the players who had hit sudden death home runs before 1920 with an additional career four-bagger. Ruth’s home run total was hiked from 714 to 715, where it remained for all of about a year before the committee reversed its decision on May 5, 1969, and again assigned Ruth only a triple for his 1918 blow. It has remained a triple ever since, but other home runs that should have been reduced to the number of bases needed to score the winning run have slipped through the cracks and are still in the record books as home runs. A premier example occurred in Cleveland on July 10, 1880, when Jim McCormick of the Cleveland Blues was locked in a 0–0 struggle with Fred Goldsmith of the Chicago White Stockings heading into the bottom of the ninth. After shortstop Jack Glasscock reached first on a single, second baseman Fred Dunlap hit a long blast over center fielder Larry Corcoran’s head and circled the bases, giving Cleveland a 2–0 victory and ending Chicago’s then NL record 21-game winning streak. Technically, Dunlap’s hit should have been a triple as per a new rule installed just that year, which dictated that the game ended as soon as Glasscock touched the plate, but the official scorer either forgot the rule change or didn’t agree with it and credited Dunlap with an inside-the-park home run. So it has remained ever since

 

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