It Really Is A Mean Old World

Good morning Fackers. In Tuesday's preview, Jay lamented the state of Javy Vazquez' 2010 season, only to see the maligned pitcher take the hill and spin a gem over seven innings. Last night, Jay's choice of Chuck Berry's "Mean Old World" proved slightly more prophetic, but its meaning went far, far beyond the nagging injuries and vagaries of age that have impacted the Yankees at different points this season.

Vladimir Guerrero, enjoying a late career renaissance in his first season in Texas, took one of his own batted balls to the eye during batting practice, resulting in a trip to the hospital. Like half the Yankees' roster, he's day to day. And that doesn't even begin to tell to the terrible tales from last night around the Bigs.

Shortly after the Yankees' game got underway, Ken Griffey Jr announced his retirement, cutting short his 22nd Big League season hitting just .184/.250/.204 with only two extra base hits (both doubles) in 98 at bats. He suffered through his nap-gate controversy earlier this season, had been benched in recent weeks, and despite his statement to the contrary, was almost assuredly nudged towards the door.

I've had mixed feelings about Griffey over the course of his career, and I have mixed feelings about Griffey's retirement. It's near tragic to see him go out like this. At the same time, I suppose it's good that he didn't force Seattle to release the most iconic player in franchise history. And it's good that he didn't hang on longer to further tarnish his reputation. But I can't help but think he wouldn't have been better off just hanging them up after last year. Here's the farewell post we ran for Griffey eleven months ago. It was premature then; it's overdue now.

And yet the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Griffey's exit from the game don't even remotely approach what happened in Detroit last night. One out from an unprecedented third perfect game in the first third of the season, and second in four nights, Armando Galarraga coaxed a grounder to first. He raced to the bag, received the throw from Miguel Cabrera, and recorded what should have been the final out of the game. Instead first base umpire Jim Joyce called Jason Donald safe.

Armando Galarraga must feel terrible. Jim Joyce must feel even worse. And while the men in blue haven't been at all popular of late, and while many have made poor decisions that actively inserted themselves into the fabric of the game, Jim Joyce doesn't deserve what he has coming his way. It was a bang-bang play, not terribly close, but pretty close. And he made the wrong call. He didn't do it to make himself part of the storyline. He didn't do it to flex his muscles. He did it because he thought it was the right call. And he was wrong. And he's going to have to live with it for the rest of his life. And despite a 24 year career as a Major League umpire, a career that has been otherwise respectable if not commendable, Jim Joyce will forever be remembered for one mistake.

At least Griffey will be remembered for his peak, not his nadir. Jim Joyce won't ever be so lucky. It sure as hell can be a mean old world. Let's hope it's a little nicer today.

Does Chip Caray Literally Need Glasses?

Richard Sandomir wondered if Caray's blatant miscues were a result of failing vision in his column dedicated to the broadcaster's inaccuracies on Thursday (emphasis mine):

But the sort of inattention that led to Caray’s call was evident again Wednesday when Nick Swisher came to bat in Game 1 of the Twins-Yankees division series. “A base — fly ball, I should say — out to center field,” he said. “That ball was hooking and nearly fell in front of Delmon Young.”

Perhaps Caray’s eyesight, not his baseball judgment, is undermining him. Yes, he caught himself in his error, but he larded on a fiction to suggest that Young had a difficult time with a ball that he effortlessly caught chest-high.

In the awkward portion of the broadcast after the 7th inning stretch but before the bottom half of the inning where Chip Caray and Ron Darling are given the floor to needlessly pontificate about the development of the game to that point, look what Chip was wearing:

And then, they were gone.

For a fleeting moment, Chip conspicuously donned a pair of librarian-style, end-of-the-nose reading glasses before casually removing them. Did ol' Chip read Sandomir's article and decide to deflect some criticism by conspicuously exposing his poor eyesight? Or worse, was it more calculated than that? I know I'm venturing on to a grassy knoll of sorts, but it's not like it was an obscure sports blog that was speculating that Caray's vision was responsible for his notable miscues.

Caray had to know that he was being ridiculed by the New York Times and perhaps he (or an advisor of his) was savvy enough to identify the out the Times had given him within their critique. Failing eyesight is a handicap that can be corrected. The inability to perform under pressure is a scarlet letter that has ruined countless careers in a myriad of industries and a harsh critique that professional wants to hear about themselves.

Maybe I'm way off-base here, but if you see Phil Cuzzi or C.B. Bucknor address the media wearing a pair of Rec Specs any time soon, just remember you heard it here first.

I'm Pretty Sure That's Not What It Says In The Rule Book

I try to steer clear of talking about bad umpiring in this space for the most part. Poor officiating is a part of every sport (except maybe golf) and regardless of all the technology that could be installed, incorrect calls are still going to be made. It will always be a part of athletic competition and it's really not worth getting upset about. They aren't going to go back and start games from the point of a umpire's mistake.

That said, what happened in the first inning yesterday is worth bringing up, because it wasn't your typical blown call and as Cliff at Bronx Banter beautifully detailed, it wasn't the only one of the day.

[Most of you know the story, but if you aren't familiar, check out Rob Neyer, River Ave. Blues or Pete Abe.]

First of all, although replays conclusively showed that Jeter was safe, it was an extremely close play. You can't fault Marty Foster for thinking Jeter had been tagged.

[This is as close to a smoking gun as I could get. The video replay all

together is conclusive, but there wasn't really one decisive freezeframe.]

You can, however, fault him for telling Jeter he didn't have to be tagged if the ball beat him to the bag.

[Gotta love the look on Jeter's face here. "Are ya fuckin' kidding me?"]

That part of the story hasn't been officially confirmed, but Crew Chief John Hirschbeck admitted that incorrect calls were made yesterday, didn't deny words to that effect were said and did not make Foster available to the media. Instead, Hirschbeck took the questions.

“The best way I can answer it is to talk to Marty about it. Not here at the ballpark, but if I see him tonight, or if not, we’ll have lunch tomorrow and we’ll discuss it. Getting a play right is one thing, but how you handle it is also important. Nowadays, with the cameras, ESPN and the reporters, I say the media, I actually mean television — it used to be if the ball beat you, you were out, but it isn’t that way anymore. It’s not a reason to call someone out. You have to make a good tag.”

It's admirable of Hirschbeck to insulate one of his guys from the media like this, because especially in New York, it would have been a difficult spot for Foster. It's not the Crew Chief's spot to discipline one of his umpires, so keep that in mind as he tries to downplay the severity of the error. There is nothing that irks me more than an umpire using his own interpretation of the rules.

Having a quirky but consistent strike zone is one thing, but not giving a pitcher a strike because the catcher had to reach across the zone for it another. Missing a bang bang play on the basepaths is okay, but willfully ignoring the rules because of some arbitrary adage ("because the ball beat him...") is a crime of the highest order, in my opinion.

What's the appropriate action here? Suspension? Worse? Something has to be done. Not because of the impact on the game, but for what Foster's bold and foolish proclamation says about his objectivity and trustworthiness as an umpire.

I think a suspension sends an adequate message and will be heard loud and clear by umps. It might not keep them from abiding by their own rules, but it will certainly keep them from telling the players that's what they are doing.