Pamplemousses League, last Friday. Boston Red Sox 6, Atlanta Braves 6. End of ninth inning. Goals fulfilled. Three balls, two strikes, two outs. Decisive throw. The crowd is standing. The tension is at its peak. Then the umpire leaves his position, behind home plate, and points at the batter.
You are retired!
However, there was no hit ball. No momentum. Not even throwing.
What happened?
Cal Conley of the Braves took over 12 seconds to get into the batting box. He thus contravened the new rule of Major League Baseball aimed at reducing timeouts.
· Pitchers now have 15 seconds to complete a pitch, or 20 seconds if there is a runner on the trails;
· The batter must be in his box eight seconds before the end of the timer;
· If the thrower is at fault, it is an automatic ball;
· If the batter is too slow, it’s an automatic strike.
Since there are no extra innings in training camp, Conley’s mistake ended the match. The incredulous spectators generously booed the referee.
This new regulation divides the amateurs. Purists argue that baseball has defied the rules of time for 150 years and that’s fine. All right. Except that when our grandparents and great-grandparents attended a baseball game in 1923, the games didn’t last three hours. They were generally concluded in less than two hours.
What happened ? Why are games 50% longer today than 100 years ago?
New tactics, such as the multiplication of relievers, have slowed the pace of the game. But the real culprit is the tataouinage.
The pitcher refuses the first signal from his receiver. The second, too. He takes his foot off the plate, takes off his glove, grabs the bag of resin, rubs his hands, puts his cap back on, puts his glove back on, goes back to the mound. The batter comes out of his box, puts sand on the handle of his bat, adjusts his elbow pad, kisses his gold chain and whispers a prayer before settling down. Repeat these gestures 40, 50, 60 times in an evening and you have just stretched the 30 minute game unnecessarily.
In the last decade, it had become unbearable. We even had games lasting more than four hours – with no extra rounds. The timer was needed. I watched a few rounds this weekend. It does not distort the game. It is no more disturbing than the time limits in football, before the ball is put into play, or in basketball, before a throw. Above all, it is an effective measure. Games from Friday to Sunday lasted an average of 2 hours and 38 minutes. That’s 23 minutes less than the 2022 training camp fixtures, ESPN network noted.
The players ? They will adapt. Like they’ve done recently with special defenses, or the designated runner starting the extra innings at second base. There are even some who already perceive the advantages of the timer. This is the case of the ace of the New York Mets, Max Scherzer.
“Now it’s the pitcher who has the most power,” he commented on Sunday after a first timed outing.
“I can be ready before the batter is even really in his box. I have to wait eight seconds before pitching, but as soon as the batter looks up, I can go. I spoke with the umpire at the plate to make sure it was allowed, and it is. »
Conversely, hitters will have to get rid of their tics, Mets slugger Pete Alonso told the local press. “I am adapting. I want to be able to establish a routine. The thing with baseball players is that a routine sometimes becomes a ritual or a superstition. »
I want to develop a routine in which I will have time and benchmarks.
Pete Alonso, New York Mets
And the injuries? If players have less time to recover between throws, are they more at risk? No, argues former Boston Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein, who now advises major league baseball. In an interview with MLB Network, he revealed the data collected during 8,000 minor league timed games.
“Throwers actually stayed slightly healthier with the timer than without. No, you can no longer take 30 seconds between throws to maximize your recovery. But maybe you won’t be throwing at maximum effort every time, as we’ve seen for the past few years. »
The attention span of the spectators decreases. Our pace of life is more frenetic than in 1973. Baseball must be of its time. So no offense to purists, yes, long live the timer!