There is a great difference between first-class single figure games, marked by batting against skilful, strategic pitching, backed up by splendid in and outfield support, and the class of contests known as "pitchers' games." The former are contests in which runners reaching second and even third base by good hits are cut off from scoring runs by superior pitching and fielding, and this class of games comprises the model contests of each season. On the other hand, the "pitchers' games," which yield single figure scores, are tedious and wearisome to the best judges of the game, from the fact that the brunt of the work falls on the "battery" team and one or two infielders, all the attractions of base running and of sharp fielding being sacrificed at the cost of seeing batsman after batsman retired on called strikes, arising from the intimidating speed of the pitching, this requiring the batsman to devote his whole energies to defending himself from the severe and often fatal injuries following his being hit by the pitched ball. Fortunately, the change in the distance between the pitcher and batsman has decreased the opportunity for this class of unattractive games. But it will not do to go over to the other side and by too much weakening of the box work give the "line-'em-out" class of "fungo" hitters a chance to revel in over-the-fence hits, and give the batsman undue preponderance in the effort to equalize the powers of the attack and defense in the game. Single figure games should outnumber double figure contests to make the game attractive for the scientific play exhibited, but not in the line of being the result of "cyclone" pitching.
The Umpiring of 1894.
The umpiring of 1894, despite of the new rules adopted early in the year governing the position, was no improvement over that of 1893; in fact, in several instances it was worse. The explicitly worded rule, prohibiting umpires from allowing any player, except the captain, to dispute a single decision of the umpire, was allowed to be openly violated by nearly every umpire on the staff. Then, too, as a rule, they, the majority, lacked the nerve and the courage of their convictions too much to keep in check the blackguardism displayed by a small minority of the players of the League teams of 1894; some of the umpires also displayed a degree of temper at times which sadly marred their judgment. That they all endeavored to do their duty impartially, goes without saying, but no umpire is fit for his position who cannot thoroughly control his temper. There was one instance shown of the folly of condoning the offence of drinking, which should not have been allowed; a drunken umpire is worse than a drunken player, for no one will respect his decisions. None such should be allowed on the League staff under any circumstances; moreover, no umpire connected with the low-lived prize-fighting business should be allowed on the League staff, no matter what his ability may be in other respects. When it becomes a necessity to have to engage pugilists as umpires to control hoodlum players, then will professional ball playing cease to be worthy of public patronage.
One great drawback to the successful umpiring which was expected to follow the revision of the rules made in March, 1894, was the countenancing of the abuse of umpires by the magnates of the clubs themselves. When presidents and directors of clubs fail to rebuke the faults of their club managers in allowing incompetent or hot-headed captains to set their players bad examples in this respect, they have no right to find fault with the poor umpiring which follows.
In the recent past, the rule on the League ball fields—and minor leagues copy all that the major league does—has been that, from the time the umpire takes up his position behind the bat, from the beginning to the end of a game, he finds both the contesting teams regarding him as a common enemy, the losing side invariably blaming him as the primary cause of their losing the game.
Then, too, in addition to the contesting teams as his foes, there are the majority of the crowd of spectators to be added to the list, the rougher element of the assemblage, the latter of whom regard the umpire as an especial target for abuse in every instance in which the home team is defeated. Last on the list of the umpire's opponents are the betting class of reporters, who take delight in pitching into him whenever his decisions—no matter how impartially he acts—go against their pet club or the one they bet on.
It is a fact not to be disputed, that those of the crowd of spectators at a ball game, who are so ready to condemn umpires for alleged partiality in their work, or for a supposed lack of judgment in rendering their decisions, never give a moment's thought to the difficulties of the position he occupies, or to the arduous nature of the work he is called upon to perform. There he stands, close behind the catcher and batsman, where he is required to judge whether the swiftly-thrown ball from the pitcher, with its erratic "curves" and "shoots," darts in over the home base, or within the legal range of the bat. The startling fact is never considered that several umpires have been killed outright while occupying this dangerous position. Neither does any one reflect for a moment that the umpire occupies this perilous position while regarded as a common enemy by both of the contesting teams, and as a legitimate object for insulting abuse from the partisan portion of the crowd of spectators. In fact, the umpire stands there as the one defenseless man against thousands of pitiless foes. The wonder is that half the umpires in the arena are as successful in the discharge of their arduous duties as they are, and the still greater wonder is that any self-respecting man can be induced to occupy a position which is becoming year after year more objectionable. There can be no successful umpiring accomplished in the position, no matter how perfect the code of rules governing the umpiring may apparently be, as long as that nuisance of the ball field, the professional "kicker," is allowed to have his way. In view of the express rules which are in the code, prohibiting the disputing of a single decision made by the umpire, it is astonishing that the umpires themselves, not to mention club managers and field captains, are so derelict in their duty in not enforcing the letter of the law of the code in this respect.
Let the magnates remember, when they say to each other this year—as they did at the close of the season of 1894—that "this hoodlumism in professional ball playing must be stopped," that it is themselves who are to blame for the blackguardism exhibited in the League arena in 1894. It is the failure of presidents and directors of League clubs to do their duty which is the real cause of such umpiring as we had in 1894. Club managers of teams, as a rule, do what they know the club presidents or directors quietly approve of or countenance, hence the latitude given to the hoodlum tactics of the rough element in each team. Don't blame umpires from meekly following the example club presidents and directors afford their team managers and captains.
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