As 2019 comes to a close, we wrap our year with one final topic before we move on:  the ignorance of pundits to facts.

However, we're not talking about politics or the news.  That's beyond the scope of this blog.  The one item to address:  Game 6 of the 2019 World Series.

In Game 6, the Washington Nationals almost self-destructed into handing a championship to the Houston Astros.  Trea Turner was called out due to runner's lane interference by umpire Sam Holbrook, causing a frenzy both on the field and in the media.  Manager Dave Martinez was ejected from a World Series game due to this.  Fans all over social media were ready to lynch Holbrook.  The championship of baseball was about to be determined by an umpire's call for interference...until Anthony Rendon hit a ball into the seats and extended the series to Game 7, where the Nationals would ultimately win.

The problem?  The call was CORRECT.

Every person who complained about the call failed to realize that it was the correct call.  The runner cannot run outside of the lane in the last half of the distance from home to first base.  But even after cooler heads prevailed and Thanksgiving approached, Christopher "Mad Dog" Russo and his cohorts continue to harp on the fact that interference should not have been called.

Russo doubled down on his claim by stating that MLB officials were thankful for the Rendon home run because it took the focus off the play in question.  Perhaps the statement was more opinion than fact, and perhaps MLB was prepared to stand by the call if necessary as the correct call, even if it meant the entertainment value of the sport was severely diminished.  But the constant pushing of such an opinion rings of the older pundit who refuses to accept that the opinion is simply wrong.

Maybe this is a microcosm of our society in general.  We dig our heels in when our opinions are challenged and claim that we are allowed to have our own opinions, even when they are wrong.  Our defenses go up because our integrity appears to be challenged.  It's a tired song and dance that speaks to our inability to have a meaningful conversation and progress as a society.

Note this, though:  to progress as a society does not have a correlation to being a stereotypical progressive.  It has nothing to do with the alignment with the left and the right of the political spectrum.  It simply means being respectful to the facts and understanding that nobody will think less of you if you happen to change your opinion.

The issue is that it's easier to just turn off the television or the radio than to actually offer a differing opinion.

The fact of the matter is that we're not here to push an agenda.  We're here to simply awaken people to civil reality and ask that they treat others the way they would wish to be treated.  It has become a difficult task, but one we at OSIP are proud to undertake.

That's why we are here to announce that our blog, The Strike Zone, will be changing.  Namely, the posts will be few and far between.  The success of our podcast, How You Play The Game, has taken more of our attention, and there is only so much time to go around.  Both the blog and the podcast duplicate the same purpose:  for us to discuss issues of sportsmanship in a particular manner.  We may continue to use the blog for some posts from time to time, and we will not be taking our posts down.  But the regular posts on the third Wednesday of each month will cease, and we encourage you to listen to our podcast, which is released on the 1st and 15th of each month.  And like we said above, perhaps we may change our minds later and come back to the blog.  We know you won't think less of us!

Until next time, as we say on the podcast, treat each other with respect.

During the course of the 2019 MLB regular season, there was an increase in poor behavior that required policing, thus drawing the ire of the public and the media.  But the ire was not drawn because of the behavior, but rather the psychological projection onto those visibly doing the policing.

The most obvious example is the New York Yankees, whose culture of class that was so prominent in the days of Jeter and Rivera cannot be matched by Judge and Gregorius.  The "leaders" on the team, notably manager Aaron Boone and elder statesmen CC Sabathia and Brett Gardner, have led the team into being examples for kids that promote behavior that continues to divide our society and grow hatred rather than understanding.  The umpires, who are the on-field police (as opposed to the league office, which is practically invisible), become the target of hatred spewed from the uneducated and primitively toxic men playing the game, and yet the umpires are gagged by the league to refrain from responding to such personal attacks.

The media perpetuates this due to their platform, mixed with their lack of research done on the subject of officiating.  Not since the great Vin Scully has a broadcaster actually given the officials their due respect and silently demanded that those who listen to his voice do the same.  And outside of our friends at Close Call Sports, rarely (if ever) has a journalist with prominence stepped up to the plate with the defense of the integrity of the officials.

What those who bash the umpires fail to realize is that the psychology of their words and actions speak volumes about their egos, characters, and personalities.

As Gil Imber from Close Call Sports has said in an eloquently written article (and quoted on his various audio/video posts), criticism of sports officials in a position of authority, especially in such settings with vehemence, is actually a projection of the dissatisfaction with oneself onto an innocent victim.  To say, "I'm dissatisfied with this umpire," is really translated to mean, "I'm dissatisfied with myself."

Let's make a quick clarification, though.  The above translation does not mean, "I disagree with this umpire."  We are allowed to share a different opinion, especially if the call was incorrect.  A pitch that is two tenths of an inch off the outside corner of the plate is, by rule, not a strike, regardless if it's "too close to take."  But respectful disagreement can be communicated without the behavior of a petulant child.

Back to the psychological projection, though:  we must also remember that the denial we may have in accepting this fact is par for the course.  People are afraid to lower their defenses and be vulnerable, especially when it comes to the almost certain inner examination of one's shortcomings.  If we can avoid feeling something bad, why would we put ourselves in a position to feel less than desirable emotions?

The first step to closing this division is empathy.  Somebody has to extend the olive branch, and perhaps that someone is you.  Can you feel empathy for the players who feel wronged, even if you don't agree with their reaction?  Can you feel empathy for the umpires who are not out to be unfair towards a certain player or team?  Can you feel empathy for the media members who are lost when it comes to discussing the topic?

The second step is to begin to stop identifying with your point of view or opinion on the subject.  To identify with it means to be unable to separate who you are from that particular thought.  When dissent occurs and it differs from our opinion, we take that other opinion personally and believe that others are out to attack us.  This is what happens all too quickly on the field:  players and coaches immediately believe that umpires are attacking them with their judgments and interpretations, as opposed to simply doing their job.  When a player stops thinking that he has been "wronged" or personally offended by what he perceives to be a bad call, that player will stop projecting such dissatisfaction with oneself onto the entity he thinks slighted him.

The third step?  Love.  Sportsmanship.  Practice what you preach.

Put aside the tumultuous ride that was Mike Francesa's "retirement" and return to sports talk radio in New York for a second and look at where his content and opinion is headed in the future.

Francesa has been very clear that much of his future plans involve interaction with fans (as sports talk radio usually does), but it goes beyond just calling in to his show.  He has an app for fans to use.  In conjunction with this plan, he did something that he said he would never do (until they told him to do it):  join Twitter.

In an interview with ThePostGame.com, Francesa was asked about his methodology for Tweeting, and the answer is not surprising because it works:  negativity sells.

Think about it.  Whether you read, watch, or listen to any news, be it sports, politics, or any other topic that gets reported, discussed, and dissected, the negative news gets far more play than the positive news.  The report about the good deeds being done at the local animal shelter are pushed to the last segment of the local newscast so that doom and gloom can headline the show.

The same goes in sports.  The discussion about a player's inept play gets far more attention than the praise of a masterful performance.  People are looking for heads to roll or a target to point their finger when their team doesn't win, and this type of outlet feeds that.

Nobody is suggesting that sports talk in any form should be eliminated.  Debating sports is a great escape.  But perhaps all sports fans need to take a step back and savor the sport for what it is:  sport.  It's supposed to be fun and entertaining.  It is never supposed to be life and death.

Beware of the media!

No, this isn't anything political.  This is a wake-up call to how the media uses our self-esteem to play on how we receive stories in the business of making money.

How many times have you seen a movie where a character or a team had to overcome an obstacle or obstacles to find a victory?  Have you noticed that the number of obstacles is directly related to how good you feel after the big climax in the plot?  And how many of these situations revolve around a sports movie?

Most people find themselves rooting for the character(s) to succeed because they project themselves onto that group trying to overcome the odds to win the day.  And perhaps that's the goal of the transaction of paying for entertainment:  I give you $15 to go see a movie, and I want that movie to entertain me for two hours.  But we should beware!  This should not be a substitute or a model for our own lives.

Our self-esteem shouldn't correlate to a movie, whether it be due to our projection and investment into the plot or due to our demand for entertainment.  Further, our demand for these movies should reveal how actual competition does not fulfill our needs.

This season, former MLB outfielder Gary Sheffield contributed to a piece for The Player's Tribune under the guise of being Commissioner of MLB for a day.  Some of his ideas were legit (the Wild Card playoff should be a series), while others were contentious (the DH should be in the National League).  However, a few were down right stupid.

Sheffield's first point of ridiculousness surrounds the idea of throwing at batters.  He believes that hitters should be allowed to charge the mound and retaliate against pitchers who purposely throw at hitters.

I'm going to stop and let that sink in for a second...

I really don't have to continue writing to prove how lost Sheffield is, but for the sake of the piece, let's keep going.

Second point:  the sliding rules (bona fide slide and catchers blocking the plate) have made us soft.  Sheffield actually endorses the idea of hurting a guy to break up a double play.  He equates it to contesting a jump shot in basketball.

I'm no basketball genius, but I'm pretty sure trying to block a jump shot doesn't involve a high speed collision where someone could end up with a broken leg.

What else does he say that will make you bleed from your ears?  Instant replay is ridiculous.  The infield shifts should be banned (he actually called the sport "computer-geek ball").  And the best part?  MLB is not strict enough in suspensions for testing positive for performance enhancing drugs.

Wait a minute, Gary.  Aren't you a cheater?  Didn't you get caught using steroids?

I'm done...

Back in April, respected baseball journalist Jon Heyman released a list he created of 50 current baseball players to admire or follow.  It's a good thing he added the clause "or follow" because a good chunk of this list includes players who should not be admired.

In fairness, as I perused the list, I saw a lot of names of people I did admire:  Kris Bryant, Corey Seager, and Matt Szczur jumped out immediately.  (Originally, I was going to include both Mike Trout and Anthony Rizzo on this list, but both have made some dumb decisions to already make me think twice about them.)  But the majority of the rest of the names were questionable to me, and a lot of it comes down to one thing:  attitude/sportsmanship.

Right off the bat, here are the names of people you can follow, but should not admire:  Manny Machado, Noah Syndergaard, Madison Bumgarner, Miguel Cabrera, Yoenis Cespedes, Bryce Harper, Robinson Cano, Chris Sale, Josh Donaldson, Yadier Molina, Joey Votta, Jose Bautista, Javier Baez, and Aroldis Chapman.  Great players?  Sure.  But each one has something in their character that should be a huge red flag.  If your child idolizes one of these players, that kid is going to be let down one day.

Further, how does Andrew Miller only make the "on the bubble" list?  The guy is one of the most dominant relievers in the game today, and his comments about being team-first have made Yankee fans cry when he was traded.

The bottom line is that these lists are always flawed and subjective and usually fall into the category of "having to write something just to fill up the space" (which we covered recently).  But combining a list of people to admire with a list of people to follow irks me, especially when the people to admire is a small faction compared to the people to follow.

(Post Script:  I had to go back and edit this post numerous times and remove names from the list of players that jumped out at me to admire.  It's amazing how people you think are worthy of admiration can so easily disappoint you.)

Last week, we discussed an article about the unwritten rules of baseball.  I was reluctant to discuss the article specifically and decided to focus on its content, namely plunking batters in retribution.  However, I've gone back on that decision with new evidence.

As Yankees radio voice John Sterling has pointed out numerous times, writers and media hosts have to come up with opinions in order to talk about something.  Their job is to fill the space (whether it is print/Internet media or broadcast air) with content, specifically content that will attract readers/viewers.  The problem is when the opinions of those people become so ludicrous that it actually turns people away from the person producing the content.

Take Tom Gatto, for example.  Gatto wrote the article about the unwritten rules of baseball.  I've never met Gatto, nor do I care to.  However, shortly after he wrote the article on the plunking, he produced a few other articles that were equally as ridiculous.

First, he goes on a spree about MLB umpire CB Bucknor.  During a game between the Braves and the Nationals in April, Bucknor had a questionable strike zone that led Nationals outfielder Jayson Werth to immaturely charge the umpire after his team had won the game.  Werth was taking a page out of the book of immaturity written by Bryce Harper, who dropped an f-bomb directed towards umpire Brian Knight the previous year after Knight ejected Harper (rightly so), only to have the Nats walk off shortly thereafter.  (Harper rushed back onto the field after he had been ejected, which is not allowed, pointed at Knight, dropped the naughty word, and the cameras caught it all.  Harper was suspended one game for this, which ended up being one half of a doubleheader.)

Prior to Werth's actions, however, Bucknor kicked a call that would have ended the game.  On a swinging strike three that would have been the final out of the game, Bucknor actually called it foul, even though the bat missed the ball by almost a foot.  The Nats were already on the field celebrating (as was the grounds crew doing its post-game work), when the umpires huddled and declared the game not over.  Thankfully, the Nats won just after that, but the scene was a circus.

You know what umpires call that?  A bad day.  Or a bad game.  Bucknor had a bad game.  It happens to all of us.  What we don't need is Tom Gatto (and every other sports pundit) demeaning him for his error.

It's true that CB Bucknor was notoriously known as being a poor official.  He has been in the big leagues for approximately two decades, and his reputation precedes him from time to time.  However, Bucknor, like fellow official Angel Hernandez, has actually worked on his craft to try and improve.  The league has noticed this because Bucknor (like Hernandez) has received some postseason assignments.  The problem is that the average fan or writer (read:  Gatto) only sees it when an official makes a mistake.  Nobody notices when an official is perfect or right.  Therefore, Bucknor (like Hernandez) gets ripped when he has a bad game, not recognizing the fact that he may have had a streak of good games prior.

An umpire colleague relayed this story to me.  When he was walking off the field after a game, a fan yelled at him, saying he had missed ten pitches that game.  My colleague politely replied, "Thank you!  That means I got the other 290 calls right!"  Umpires cannot win.  They are expected to be perfect, and then improve from there.  And to clueless people who don't have the ability to empathize or see the big picture (like Gatto, who needs to fill space with his opinions), this is perfect banter that will attract readers.

A few days later, Gatto wrote an article about a game between the Rays and the Tigers.  In the bottom of the ninth, the Rays were trailing by one run and had the bases loaded with nobody out.  On a full count pitch, Steven Souza Jr. attempted to check his swing, then dropped his bat and started heading to first, assuming he had just received a base on balls.  The problem?  Home plate umpire Larry Vanover called it a swinging strike and pumped Souza out.

Rays manager Kevin Cash came out to argue and was immediately ejected by Vanover.  After a prolonged argument, the next pitch was hit for a routine double play that was supposed to end the game.  However, when Jose Inglesias tried to make the turn at second base, he slipped on second and fell down, causing his throw to go wildly past first base and allowing two runs to score, giving the Rays the win.  There was no fault on the Rays for interference; Inglesias lost his footing by himself.  However, the runner who was bearing down on him legally slid into second and right into Inglesias' face, causing him to lay on the ground in clear pain while the Rays celebrated a come-from-behind victory.

So what does Gatto do in his article?  He rips Vanover, says the Rays win on the good "juju" from Cash's ejection, and barely mentions the fact that Inglesias was hurt.

Can we clear something up here?  Whether Paul O'Neill agrees with it or not, it is the home plate umpire's call first and foremost on whether a batter swung at a pitch.  If he thinks he swung, he can call it.  He doesn't need to get help from a base umpire.  Secondly, the home plate umpire can only go for help when he calls the pitch a ball and doesn't call the batter on a swing; only then can he honor the appeal and go to the base umpire to see if the batter actually swung.  These are the damn rules of the game!  Vanover got everything right!  (And for what it's worth, replays show Souza swung.)

Analysis of all these plays aside, why do people like Gatto need to write this stuff?  And more importantly, why does the general public eat this stuff up?  Are people that stupid that they can't see into the opinions of media members and make a personal and individual decision not to believe everything they read?

I'll stop there because I could cross the line into politics, which is not my goal.  The intent here is to call Gatto out for his poor choice in topics and opinions and to get people to take a step back and understand a little more about how the game of baseball works in conjunction with humanity.