One Moment Above All Others

12/28/13

There's a particular moment in baseball that I enjoy more than the others, and it happens numerous times every game. It's a moment in which not much is happening and is often taken for granted and not noticed. It's the thirty seconds to a minute or so right after an out has been recorded. There's actually quite a bit packed into that brief time frame. And if the out was gained by way of strikeout, it's even more satisfying. 

Here's a typical scenario: if the batter strikes out swinging, he may ask the umpire if the final pitch would indeed have been called a strike had he not swung, or if he got himself out by swinging at what would have been a ball (maybe even ball four). He may chastise himself a bit on the way back to the dugout, but usually not too much. Baseball is a game of the even keel. If the batter struck out looking, he may argue briefly with the umpire for making such a ludicrous call, but he has to be very careful. The rules strictly say that arguing balls and strikes is not allowed, but most umpires allow a little leeway. Either way, the pitcher starts a slow stroll around the mound, takes his cap off wipes some sweat from his forehead, picks up the rosin bag. Meanwhile, the infielders are tossing the ball "around the horn" in a sort of mini-celebration. Catcher, third baseman, shortstop, second baseman, third baseman, and back to the pitcher (I've always wondered why the first baseman is excluded from this little ritual). After their individual turns receiving and tossing the ball, the infielders remind the outfielders of how many outs there are. Infielders are the authorities on the number of outs. If not for them, the outfielders wouldn't have a clue. 

I love that moment. A minor victory has been achieved. Cheers and attaboys and even groans and get-'em-next-times are offered from the grandstand. There's a moment of repose, a moment to exhale, but also a moment of anticipation. There's another batter on his way to take his cuts. Two down, guys. Let's get one more. Then while the batter digs in and his name is announced, the pitcher climbs to the top of the hill, gathers himself, takes a deep breath, and looks in. Let's go again.