Commentary
How to pick up the pace of the game
It shouldn't take three hours to play nine innings, and with these changes, it won't
Even baseball's staunchest defenders will concede that the sport moved in the wrong direction in 2016 — the games ran too long, managers called on too many relievers and the pitching changes took forever. Sitting through nine innings, especially in the postseason, tested one's patience, if not one's sanity.
Even the historic postseason came at a steep price. Game 2 of the World Series lasted 4:04 — without going into extra innings. America fell in love with the Cubs, but the courtship was sometimes felt interminable. The average game in October took nearly 31/2 hours, which means you had to stick around, sitting through with the pitching changes, and the commercial breaks, and the instant replay huddles until almost midnight.
Major League Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred isn't oblivious to this emerging trend — he knows baseball's pace-of-game initiative is failing and will continue to backslide unless significant measures are adopted to reverse the trend.
As the commissioner told ESPN earlier in the year, “This topic is like dandelions. The minute you look the other way, you've got them all over your lawn.”
To this point, baseball's attempts to streamline have been overly modest, and for that reason ineffective. Batters were forced to keep one foot in the box starting in 2015 but the work-arounds soon became obvious. Ask for time, or step back to avoid a close pitch, or question a borderline strike. Umpires eventually grew weary of enforcement.
The result? The average regular-season game, which was trimmed to 2:56 in 2015, crept back to 3:04 last year.
The dandelions are winning the battle.
But here are some solutions to the problem, although they come with a necessary warning for purists: These changes are cataclysmic. We're talking about pitch clocks, banning mound visits, and reining in those dreadfully slow instant-replay conferences.
The idea is to shake the game's very foundation and bring it into the new millennium. The makeover would likely be too severe for Manfred, but he should ask himself why soccer is growing in popularity in the U.S.
The answer lies — at least in part — in the running clock.
With no breaks in the action, soccer is characterized by constant tension, not to mention an identifiable starting and end point. You can practically set your watch to the two-hour match. Baseball, beautiful and subtle as it is, can't install the same time boundaries, but there's still a way to make it faster-paced.
Here's how:
And if a reliever is needed, he has to run, not walk, to the mound.
The same edict applies to catchers; they will have to stay put in the new order. Besides, they usually have nothing useful to contribute to the discussion on the mound, having been dispatched on orders from the dugout.
And everybody knows it's all about buying time for the reliever, who wants to squeeze in a few extra warmups in the bullpen. And it's also a colossal turn-off to fans in the stands and an invitation to switch channels at home.
Not surprisingly, it took 4:32 to finish the contest, the longest nine-inning game in postseason history and the longest nine-inning game of any kind in the NL. The obsessive hunt for the right match-up has gotten out of control, a monster created by the immense flood of data that now runs the sport.
It's hard to believe this is what baseball is supposed to be.
Yes, we understand the counterargument: Pitching is as much about feel as it is about execution. Concentration is irreplaceable. But there's something to be said about keeping a pitcher in a constant state of readiness, too. Those who are better at perfecting their grips in those 10 seconds will have an advantage over those who fumble with the ball.
Of course, the smart one will find a way to circumvent this proposal. Throwing over to first would, theoretically, restart the clock. But there'll be a limit on that, too: no more than two attempted pick-offs per at-bat.
The solution? Increase advertising rates and start selling space on players' helmets and jerseys. And let's go one step further and hawk space on Fox's on-screen graphics, too. Everything would be up for grabs for the smart sponsor, because fans will suddenly be paying attention instead of heading to the kitchen or the restroom during breaks.
Stopping the game while someone in the clubhouse consults a video replay is an unnecessary speed bump that can be pared down easily.
Oh, and about that bulky headset? Gone. Umpires need to be fitted with a wireless earpiece and audio device. It'll make for quicker decisions — and it'll be more fashionable, too.