I love technology. It’s enriched my life and working in the technical field has enabled me to earn a relatively comfortable living. I also love baseball. I grew up a fan of the Washington Senators, of whom it was quipped, “Washington: First in war, first in peace, last in the American League.”
Yet when I heard the news that Major League Baseball was instituting a new instant replay policy, my gut reaction was swift and sure. I’m against it.
Yesterday I watched a game with my new favorite team, the Washington Nationals. The Nats were leading the San Francisco Giants 3-1 in the top of the ninth. The home plate umpire clearly missed calling what would have been the game ending third strike. Both the pitcher and the batter thought so. On the next pitch, the batter hit a three-run homer that put the Giants ahead, and the Giants wound up winning the game, 4-3.
Instant replay would have reversed that call, right? Maybe. But that’s not the point.
Baseball is a unique game in many ways. For one, it’s the only game where the defense has the ball. It also isn’t ruled by a clock. It’s a game where every player has the same opportunity to contribute to the offense (n.b. the designated hitter rule in the American League, to which I also object). And that’s the point. This is a game for and by human beings. And being fallible, human beings make mistakes. A baseball box score lists runs, hits and errors. Errors are as a much a part of the game as everything else. Bill Buckner, anyone?
Last night on the radio, a local sportscaster, obviously stung by the loss, disagreed with the “human element” of the game. He argued that the technology exists (and the media uses it prolifically during broadcasts) to accurately measure balls and strikes. Why leave it to a human umpires, who can – and often do – misread the strike zone? My response to that argument: The technology also exists to throw a perfect strike. Every time. Why not replace the pitcher with a machine that gives each batter the exact same hitting opportunity?
Because that removes the human element of the game and turns it into little more than high-priced batting practice. Fans of the game know this well: A game of baseball changes with every pitch; with a runner on second and the count three balls and two strikes, the strategy will be different depending on how many outs there are.
Do we want to reduce the subtlety and nuances of the game just because we can? Certainly I’m not happy the game was lost on a blown call. But I also believe these things tend to balance out, and I think teams are the beneficiaries of as many blown calls as they are victim to them.
And that’s as it should be, in my opinion. Because we’re human and bystanders to technology.