I have, of late, become somewhat of a Cincinnati Reds fan. This largely because of a friend who is a die hard Reds fan and the fact that they are currently in first place. You could call me a fair-weather fan. Because of my interest in the Reds, I was watching their game with St. Louis on ESPN last evening while visiting with the Crocketts.
But it is not the Reds game that I want to post about. During the Reds/Cardinals game ESPN was providing special coverage of the Detroit Tigers/ Cleveland Indians game in Detroit. They had picked up the coverage because a young pitcher for the Tigers was pitching a perfect game. It was the eighth inning and we watched as Armando Galarraga retired all three batters and needed just three more outs to pitch a perfect game and become only the 21st pitcher in the history of baseball to do so. All of us were suddenly caught up in the excitement of the occasion. Just like the fans in Detroit, I was standing and cheering with every pitch. The drama became even more intense as the first pitch of the ninth inning was hit deep to center field. My heart sank. No perfect game. But the Detroit center fielder, Austin Jackson, sprinted toward the center field wall. Making a over his shoulder catch that rivaled the great Willie Mays, Jackson saved the day. I was ecstatic. We all screamed and cheered at the improbable catch and preservation of a perfect game. Two more batters. The next batter was out on a routine ground ball to short. One more out.
What happened next, was just as improbable as Jackson’s catch. The 27th batter for Cleveland hit a ground ball between first and second. The first baseman moved quickly to his right, scooped up the ball, and made the throw to Galarraga covering at first. I am screaming. Ballgame! A perfect game.
In a surreal millisecond, my elation was replaced by disbelief and anger. I was shocked by the first base umpire’s call of safe. It couldn’t be. The runner was clearly out. What an idiot. How could he miss the call? I and everyone in the stadium as well as the announcers were stunned. The out cry was overwhelming. What injustice. The replay confirmed what we all knew. The throw had clearly been in time. I will remember that game for a long time.
But som
ething else occurred that I will remember just as long and is of much more value. In the moments after the umpire’s call there was immediate outrage and anger. The first baseman in an angry tirade continue to curse and verbally attack the umpire. The Tigers’ manager came out and expressed his outrage. The perfect game was gone. There would be no no-hitter. An opportunity for an average major league pitcher to find a special place in the history of baseball was gone. A history making moment was transformed into the ordinary. The protest was universal, except for at least one person – Armando Galarraga. As he realized the runner was called safe, he simply grinned, shook his head and went back to the mound to face the next batter. There was no screaming and cursing. The person who lost the most responded in a most unexpected way. The only person who would have been justified to react with anger and resentment did not. It was amazing but little noticed as far as I can tell. But for those who did notice, we were granted a glimpse into the kingdom of God in this world.
As I read an article this morning about the game, I was pleased to hear Galarraga’s response to questions about call.
Galarraga told reporters that Joyce apologized to him after the game, adding that he had no instinct to argue the call. “He probably felt more bad than me,” Galarraga said. Smiling, he added, “Nobody’s perfect.”
Another glimpse. Thank you Armando.
As a contrast to Armando’s story, consider this section of the NY Times article about a similar potential perfect game.
The last perfect game to be lost under similar circumstances was in 1972, when the Chicago Cubs’ Milt Pappas walked Larry Stahl of the San Diego Padres on a 3-2 pitch.
Bruce Froemming was the plate umpire at Wrigley Field that day who called ball four. Pappas flew into a rage, and though he got a no-hitter, he has never wavered in criticizing Froemming, who retired in 2007 after a 37-year career.
“The pitch was outside,” Froemming said Wednesday night in a telephone interview. “I didn’t miss the pitch; Pappas missed the pitch. You can look at the tape. Pappas, the next day, said, ‘I know the pitch was outside, but you could have given it to me.’ That pitch has gotten better over the years. That pitch is right down the middle now.”
In the next day’s Chicago Tribune, Pappas was quoted as saying, “The pitches were balls. They were borderline but balls. Froemming called a real good game.” Pappas has since said he was being diplomatic to avoid a fine for criticizing an umpire.
In a 2007 interview with ESPN, Pappas suggested that Froemming should have given him the benefit of the doubt, for the sake of history.
“I still to this day don’t understand what Bruce Froemming was going through in his mind at that time,” Pappas said. “Why didn’t he throw up that right hand like the umpire did in the perfect game with Don Larsen?”
He added: “It’s a home game in Wrigley Field. I’m pitching for the Chicago Cubs. The score is 8-0 in favor of the Cubs. What does he have to lose by not calling the last pitch a strike to call a perfect game?”
What Froemming would have lost is integrity, even if only he knew. Umpires can show no bias, to a team or to a situation. Froemming never worked the plate for a perfect game, but he never manufactured one, either.