It's never too late to learn a lesson

It’s the most famous imperfect game in major league history. Three days ago, only baseball fans in Detroit (and probably not that many of them) could tell you who the hell Armando Galarraga was.

Thanks to the wonders of TV (and the internet), he … and an unfortunate umpire named Jim Joyce … have become household words.

For the non-baseball fan in the house, here is a précis of what happened Wedneday night in Detroit. After 26 outs, Galarraga, who had just returned from a sojourn in the minor leagues, had a perfect game going against the Cleveland Indians. His team led 3-0 and he was on top of the world.

Then came Jason Donald’s grounder. 1B Miguel Cabrera fielded it and tossed to Galarraga, who touched first base well ahead of Donald for what appeared to be the first perfect game in the 109-year history of the Detroit franchise.

Unfortunately, Joyce didn’t see it that way. He called Donald safe. Galarraga had a bemused look of disbelief on his face. Tiger manager Jim Leyland took off like a bottle rocket to object.

The call stood. Galarraga sighed and induced one more groundout. The game was over and the arguments resumed.After a while, Joyce got to the clubhouse and saw what the world already knew that he missed the call … badly.

The lessons we learn in hindsight are often the most important ones. Faced with incontrovertible evidence, Joyce did something rarely seen in sports … or real life these days. He fell on his sword. All he could say was “I’m sorry. I kicked the (expletive) out of the play. I cost the kid a perfect game.”

The “kid” chose to be gracious, telling reporters, “I thought he made a mistake but nobody’s perfect.” When he heard how upset Joyce was, Leyland, a veteran baseball man, went from breathing fire over a missed perfect game to concern for a veteran who had made a simple mistake. He went down to the umpires room, telling Joyce it was time to have a beer and forget about it.

After all, there would be a game the next afternoon.

As expected, reaction around the country has been mixed. An old Minneapolis writer named Sid Hartman went on a verbal rampage, calling Joyce a “stupid imbecile.” Others, like MSNBC’s Keith Olbermann, pleaded with commissioner Bud Selig to change the ruling and award Galarraga the perfect game. (Interestingly, neither Leyland or Galarraga made the same plea.)
Bud Selig didn’t get his job by stepping out on a limb. He prefers to stay the course whenever possible and duck controversy.

Unsurprisingly, he said the call stands. End of discussion.

This time, however, he got it right.

If we head down the path of making exceptions to every rule, we will soon be out of rules. The line of missed MLB calls at key moments starts at the left.

A couple of hours after Joyce’s muffed call, another umpire – Dale Scott – missed an out at second base that would have sent the Twins into the 11th inning against Seattle. Instead, Seattle had a 2-1 win. Minnesota manager Ron Gardenhire ranted afterwards about this miscarriage of justice. As he did so, I am sure he had forgotten that his team was the beneficiary of a similar mistake in a game in April that sent Kansas City muttering to the locker room.

It’s sports. Stuff happens.

Thanks to the Joyce call, arguments for instant replay in baseball will start anew. There will be committee meetings galore. The pundits will be able to weigh in with deep, insightful observations about how the game should … or should not change.
We’ll save that for another day.

The most important lesson here came 15 ½ hours after Wednesday’s game. Galarraga, who looks younger than his actual age of 28, ambled out to home plate to deliver the lineup card for that day’s game to Joyce, who looked a lot older than his actual age of 54. (Ironically, he was scheduled to work the plate.) Galarraga shook hands with Joyce and patted him on the shoulder as if to say, “Hey, that was yesterday’s battle. Today is a new day.” Joyce returned the gesture, grabbed his facemask and went to work.

Both men seemed to understand a very simple concept: as long as imperfect people are hired to officiate games played by imperfect people, mistakes will happen. You hope they don’t but you know they will.

It’s really that simple.