The well-intentioned but very-much-a-work-in-progress system has generated mixed reviews this season. Most in baseball agree with the basic idea — get as many calls right as possible — but the implementation of the challenge/replay process is a different story.
Gone are the days when Earl Weaver or Billy Martin would come charging out of the dugout spewing profanities and venom that would make hardened criminals blush when they disagreed with a call. The art of arguing with umpires, usually without any realistic hope of actually getting a call changed, was part of baseball’s landscape.
(Note: Following video contains some NSFW language).
PHOTOS: Classic umpire arguments
Now?
“Everything’s very cordial,” Cardinals manager Mike Matheny said last weekend. “Every time, I feel like I should bring some tea when I go out. It’s, what did you see there? I don’t know. Let’s go ask the other guy. It’s bizarre.”
Now, the goal is to slowly stride out to the umpire so the team’s video folks have time to do a quick review of the play to see whether it’s worth challenging the call.
There’s no need to yell and scream and cause forehead veins to start pulsing because the ultimate replay decision doesn’t rest with the in-game umpires. Those plays are decided in New York, and managers aren’t allowed to yell at the replay officials on the headphones.
Heck, they’re not allowed to even discuss a replay decision with the in-game umps, either. That’s an automatic ejection.
Earl and Billy would hardly recognize this all-important game within the game. It’s not going too far out on a limb to say they wouldn’t like it, either. And they’re not alone.
A sampling:
“It takes away the passion of the game,” Red Sox catcher David Ross told Sporting News.
“I don’t miss going out there to argue,” Brewers manager Ron Roenicke said, “but it does take some of my emotions away, no question about it.”
“The emotion has been taken out of it,” Red Sox manager John Farrell said.
“I think we’re being asked to take our emotion and frustration and just shelve it,” Matheny said. “I don’t think that was ever … I never heard that part when we started talking about the review process.”
You get the idea.
But, you might not really care that managers have lost their main way to vent frustration. So what if managers can’t scream and yell and cause that little vein on the forehead to start throbbing. Big deal, right? That’s not really very professional anyway, you might say.
But all the yelling and screaming isn’t just a cathartic exercise for the managers. It serves a purpose. “There’s times when you need to back your player, if he thinks he was safe or whatever, out or whatever the call is,” Roenicke said. “You want to be able to back him up and show him you do care about what he says.”
Players appreciate that. “Yeah, of course,” Ross said. “It means a ton to you.”
Now, it’s tougher to give that very visible I-got-your-back display. That’s a concern.
“These guy in here feed off what we, as a staff, do,” Matheny said. “And if they don’t believe that we’re fighting for them, if they don’t believe that we’re defending them, whether it’s the strike zone or the review process, somehow they’re getting slighted. If they don’t see the people who are supposed to be in a leadership position doing something (to) defend them, we’re going to lose this bench and this clubhouse.”
