I am off doing my annual baseball trip. My son Brady and I are closing in our goal of visiting every MLB ball park. The three ball parks we are hitting this weekend San Diego, Anaheim and LA will take us up to having visited 28 out of 30 MLB ball parks. Seattle and Atlanta remain the only 2 that we have not visited. Several years ago we did check out the old Turner Field ball park in Atlanta but it has recently been replaced.
Thus, with baseball on my mind let’s talk a little balls and strikes as in the following amazing stat: this season projects to be the first in MLB history where strike outs will outnumber hits (click here.)
As with so many things baseball-wise, the pundits have given various explanations for this record number of strike outs ranging from expanded strike zones to specialized relief pitchers. Another explanation has to do with batters continually trying to crush the ball even with 2 strikes on them. (Yeah, talking bout you Chris Davis.) In the old days, once you got two strikes, you would choke up on the bat and just try to make contact with the pitch. Today’s batters, even with two strikes on them, are still swinging for the fences.
I remember back when I played, striking out was always one of my biggest concerns. I simply did not want to get to that second strike and risk even the possibility of striking out. And whenever I did get 2 strikes on me, all I wanted to do with the next pitch was make some kind of contact and put the ball in play. I simply dreaded the thought of striking out. (Later in life I would have to learn to deal with the phenomena of striking out with women and equate it with my baseball experiences as I was trying to get to first and maybe even second base with them.)
But as much as striking out back then was frowned upon, today’s players don’t seem to mind so much. In a vicious circle and self fulfilling prophecy kind of way, the more players strike out now, the more acceptable it has become. Today, striking out is not that big a deal.
But remember back when Casey struck out? Written in 1888 by Ernest Thayer the poem made Casey a famously sympathetic character even if he was a little bit too over confident. Wonder if today we would even notice or make comment about the irony of the Mighty Casey failing as such?
