Keeping Score

An eight and a half by eleven inch sheet of paper holds the key to every baseball game. 

The art of scoring baseball games is credited to Henry Chadwick. The former sports writer started keeping notes of the game in 1859, and his model was the outline that was reworked over the years to the score keeping format statisticians know and love today.

There is a certain art form to keeping baseball statistics. Every statistician acts as a modern day Donatello, quietly crafting the picture of every game as their own Saint Mark. As the innings pile on the pencil wears down to a small nub, the paper becomes filled with a series of complex numbers and letters that did not quite make it into a J.J. Abrams movie. 

But the true students of the game learn these numbers and letters as their third language. These students learn how to score a game from their own private tutors. All it takes for an average person to learn how to score is the dedicated tutelage of a parent, friend, or spouse. 

Saying that scoring a baseball game requires a great deal of mental fortitude is an understatement. For two and a half hours, a scorer must keep track of every hit, every pitch, every out, and everything else that may or may not happen in baseball. Very few have the discipline to record these hieroglyphics, but everybody can learn how to.

The first and perhaps most important numbers in keeping score of a baseball game are the first nine numbers students recited in kindergarten. The numbers one through nine is the foundation of which score keeping is built upon. Without the first nine numbers, the language of baseball scoring becomes cuneiform.  

In short, if you can count to nine, you can score a baseball game. 

The first step of identifying baseball scoring is to learn which numbers correspond with which position. The list itself is short and simple. There is no real explanation as to why these positions are the numbers that they are, and the only man who could answer why has been slumbering in soil for more than 100 years.

The pitcher is number one. The catcher is number two. First base is number three. Second base is number four. Third base is number five. Shortstop is number six. Left field is number seven. Center field is number eight. Right field is number nine. 

If a batter hits a ball on the ground to the second baseman and the shortstop throws to the first baseman the play is scored as a 4-3 groundout. The second baseman (4) fielded the ball and threw it to the first baseman (3) to get the out. Every out recorded in the infield is a combination of these numbers. It is possible for a hitter to ground out to an outfielder, but if your team had a guy so slow that he got thrown out form the outfield, he would be considered an honorary Molina.

Double and triple plays are not much more complicated, just attach another number to the thread. If a runner is on first and the ball is hit to the shortstop, he will throw to second base, who will in turn throw to first. The thread of numbers would be crocheted into a 6-4-3 double play. The only added wrinkle to that thread in a triple play would be that there were two runners on base and the ball didn't touch the ground.

 Once again, the various combinations of these numbers are what trip people up. Just remember, if you can count to nine, you will be fine.

As for when a batter hits a fly ball out, write the number of the position that catches the ball and draw a circle around it. That's it, nothing more, nothing less.

When a batter swings and misses at strike three, it is scored with a K. But when a batter gets embarrassed by a knee buckling curve ball and doesn't swing at strike three, the out is scored as a backwards K. Again, the only man who knows why these are scored the way they are has been worm food for quite some time.

Pitching statistics are far easier because they require simple addition. Hits, earned runs allowed, strikeouts, walks, home runs allowed, hit batsmen, are all added up at the end of a pitcher's workday. If a starting pitcher goes five innings or more, he can get the win. Any short of five innings he can either get a no decision or lose.

The rest of the stats on the diamond are cut down to quick little one, two, or three letter acronyms. Hitters start with AB (at bat), RBI (run batted in), 1B (single), 2B (double), 3B (triple), HR (home run), BB (walk), SO (strikeout). So it is a matter of simple memorization to learn how to score a game.

Every statistic in baseball is like one piece of a giant jigsaw puzzle. But like a thousand piece picture, there is a certain joy that comes from completing the scorecard. A elating feeling that carries over and compels people to score again.

If the Shoe Fits

As a Colt for 14 years, Peyton Manning knows that the outside of a horse is as beautiful as the inside of a man. Let's face it, Manning would look weird in anything other than a horseshoe.

There is something uncomfortable when a player synonymous with one franchise changes teams. Nobody could picture Chipper Jones of the Atlanta Braves as a Chicago Cub. The thought of Paul Pierce as anything other than a Boston Celtic is just wrong. And not one person who watches the Yankees could picture Derek Jeter wearing anything other than pinstripes.

Still, the world of sports is a business. Men who make more money in a season than most of us will ever see in our entire lives are responsible for choosing their gladiators wisely. Otherwise the masses will not be appeased, and heads will roll.

John Elway the vice president of football operations will now be known for more than dealing with a quarterback he despised. Elway will be known for helping to bring a quarterback arguably greater than himself to the Broncos. Even though the Broncos don't have Arizona's Larry Fitzgerald, or Tennessee's Chris Johnson, or Brandon Mar.... (oops neither do the Dolphins), Elway and co convinced one of the best ever to come to Colorado.

Sure spending 96 million dollars for a quarterback who just came off of four neck surgeries and planning on keeping that same man until he is 40 is risky. But Broncos brass should not and will not be blamed for going after Manning. Even at the cost of one of the most polarizing athletes in sports today.

Even the most devout Tim Tebow lovers can not argue the move from a football standpoint. Peyton Manning is already in the top ten in virtually every passing statistic (3rd in passing yards, 3rd in touchdown passes, and 5th in completion percentage to name a few). Tim Tebow is nowhere near that plateau. Manning knows what defensive players are going to do before they do, Tebow does not.

Tebow plays quarterback like a bumbling intern of medicine. Manning has a hospital named after him in Indianapolis.

The final chapter of Manning's career may be spent in a different stable, but it ultimately will not tarnish his legacy in the slightest. Manning will be remembered for the Superbowl he brought to Indianapolis, not some huge contract he signed with Denver.

Manning may run with different horses now, but he will be a Colt through the end of days. For 14 years  Manning brought countless good memories to Colts fans, and brass alike. Not many franchises can say that they have been without a quarterback controversy for more than a decade. There was never a question about Manning using performance enhancing drugs. Manning never had any dirty laundry aired out for the world to see. Manning was the definition of a professional in Indianapolis, and he will forever be remembered as a colt.

Fans, media, Elway, Tebow, everyone who watches football will still get to see Peyton Manning play. The uniform will be different, but the player and person remains the same. And Manning will stay the same, right up until he signs that one day contract to retire an Indianapolis Colt.

Meet the Spartans

The Missouri Tigers did not beware the ides of March Madness.

Okay, so the date the Tigers met their demise was not the same as when Julius Caesar died, but it was pretty close. Caesar met his demise on March 15, 44 B.C. while the third ranked Tigers in the country met their demise on March 16, 2012 at the hands of Spartans.

Norfolk State's team looked anything like the fifth number 15 seed to ever win a NCAA tournament game. The Spartans had to fight against a school with bigger expectations, better players, and an army of over 33,000 fans. But even though nobody outside of Norfolk Virginia expected the underdogs to win, the Spartans looked into the eyes of the Tigers and smiled.

The Spartans did not falter when Missouri pounced with a rain of three pointers that extinguished the light of the sun. One of the better three point shooting teams in the country made 13 out of their 29 three point shots against the Spartans. Yet Norfolk State instead elected to fight in the shade rather than run like the 15 seed everyone thought they were. 

There was never a moment when the Spartans felt outclassed. Even though it was Norfolk State's first tournament appearance, they played with the poise reserved for the Dukes, North Carolinas, and Michigan States that go to the big dance every year. The Spartans and Tigers traded the lead a total of 24 times. Back and forth the two teams battled, not because Missouri played down to their competition, but because the Tigers and Spartans kept taking the lead from each other. 

Sure there were moments of improbability for the Spartans. A team that averaged 69 points per game in the regular season scored 86. Guards Pendarvis Williams and Chris McEachin, men who averaged 11.8 and 12.8 points a game respectively, both scored 20 points. And the bench players for Norfolk State did not have a single point between them. But there had to be moments of improbability for the Spartans to force an upset that detonated virtually every tournament bracket. 

As for Missouri, their time to dance has come to an end. The vaunted Tigers, Big 12 champions in their final season in the conference, never lead by more than four points. Kim English, a man who averaged 14.9 points per game in a tough conference, mustered just one bucket against the Spartans. And even though the Tigers shot 52 percent from the field, the slipper seemed to fit Norfolk State perfectly. 

The Spartans team perfectly embodies the spirit of March Madness. The best playoffs in sports have never been about the brackets that get broken. The NCAA tournament is about the kids who make the memories. And the Spartans emerge as a portion of tournament lore that will stay with the kids for the rest of their lives.

As the buzzer went off, the Spartans had no idea how to celebrate their victory. The crowd watched the starters gather at center court. A few of them jumping up and down, but the rest of the team was as awestruck as the fans who watched two titans trade blows. As glorious as the win was, there was no type of expectation in celebration. 

And that was perhaps the best part of the night.

The Norfolk State athletes who usually play for 5,400 students now have the entire country rooting for them. The talking heads that have previously written them off will now try to size up their chances against the Florida Gators. Kyle O'Quinn will likely be stuck with the predictable pun of 'O'Quinnsanity' within the next few hours. And Norfolk State's first ever win over a ranked opponent will be synonymous with the team's best win in school history to date.

The players at Norfolk State may get lost in the shuffle in history. A fate entirely possible if nobody on this team plays basketball at the next level. But for this day, Norfolk State can celebrate the fact that they Sparta kicked the Missouri Tigers out of the NCAA tournament. 

The Majesty of Madness

The first weekend of March Madness is the best time you can have sitting in front of the television.

The backdrop of the NCAA tournament holds countless memories within the courts' floorboards. It's impossible to forget Bryce Drew throwing up a three for Valparaiso University to beat Ole Miss in the waning seconds of the game. Christian Laettner's turnaround jumper that beat Kentucky superseded everything he did in the NBA. And the images of Lorenzo Charles' dunk on the last play of the game still resonate on highlight reals across the airwaves.

March Madness is the only weekend in sports when fans and talking heads alike are half expecting to be stunned. Every year there are upsets that readjust the landscape of the tournament. Rams can clip the wings of Jawhawks, spiders can crush oranges, and patriots can shoot down huskies. No school is safe from being upset by any stretch of the imagination.

Because of the parody, the quest to make the perfect bracket floods the water cooler talk at the office. Some brackets are made based on countless hours of meticulous statistical analysis. Other brackets are birthed by spontaneous selections based on which teams have the best uniform colors. And others still are crafted in the image of an alum's best run at the title. Yet in a matter of moments, tournament brackets that are so meticulously formulated can become kindling within the first few hours of games.

Yet broken bracketology and the parody of the field is what makes the madness so beautiful.

Every professional sport has the six or seven teams that are legitimate championship contenders, while the rest falter in their own mediocrity. In the pros, the gulfs in talents between the best and the worst teams become apparent in their play. The NCAA tournament provides more parody in its playoff than every other sport combined.

The 1991 Richmond Spiders are a perfect case study of parody in the playoff. The spiders were a 15 seed when they were matched up against the 2 seeded Syracuse Orange. No 15 seed had ever beaten a 2 in the illustrious history of the tournament. The mere idea that a powerhouse team anchored by Billy Owens would loose to a Richmond team with no star power was inconceivable. Yet the spiders scored first and never trailed that day. For the first time in the history of the sport, a 15 beat a 2. After that first domino fell in 1991, three 15 seeds have beaten 2 seeds since.

The parody is just a part of the game. But what truly draws in fans are the stories that the athletes have to tell.

This year one of the most prominent tourney story lines is the tale of Peyton Siva of Louisville. Siva's father, sister, and brother have all done time in jail, and Siva had to talk his father out of taking his own life as a 13 year old boy. And many of the athletes like Siva have their own adversities that lead them to become feel good tournament stories.

The perfect part about March Madness is the imperfections of kids playing the game. Many of the student athletes are going pro in something other than sports. So students who are flawed in their games are most likely worried about their other school responsibilities. It is unrealistic to expect perfection out of 19-22 year old students playing sports.

At the same time, the emotions of the college game are the lifeblood of the sports' excitement, purity, and wonder. During the dramatic moments, students on the bench lock arms in hope for victory. And the same kids huddle together, and hold each other up in defeat. For young athletes, especially college basketball, the sport is still a game.  And it is that childhood purity and honest emotion that draws in viewers.

Even after an excruciating loss to a hated rival, or a blowout loss, or an improbable upset there is still perspective in the madness. College basketball players line up to shake hands after tournament games. A gesture that not only shows incredible class, but a gesture that reflects on what fans, players, and analysts alike want our sports to be: games that everyone loves to watch.

Ryan Braun vs. Steroids

The dark cloud of the steroid era has been an insurmountable opponent for the credibility of the game's best players. Miguel Tejada, Jason Giambi, and Garry Sheffield, all struck out when faced with steroid accusations. Roger Clemens, Eric Gagne, and Scott Schoenweis all got shelled by the stigma such as Matt Harrison (and the rest of the Rangers pitching in Game 3 of last year's World Series) got knocked around by Albert Pujols. So far, Ryan Braun has done the best against the unhittable stigma of steroids.

And he barely fouled a pitch off. 

Ryan Braun was the first player in the history of baseball to successfully appeal a suspension for violating MLB's hallowed drug policy. Immediately after his win, Braun went out of his way to attack the testing system, calling it flawed and that it needed changing. The 28 year old proclaimed his victory at the battle of Maryvale park.

But the fight for Braun to restore his image has just begun. Braun has not erased his positive test for elevated testosterone by any stretch of the imagination. He has been lumped together with the group of players who all lied in front of Congress. And now, Braun must find a way to separate himself from that destructive group.

A task that no player has done since the release of the Mitchell report.

In 2007, Senator George Mitchell released an infamous burn notice for many great baseball players of this generation. The Mitchell report destroyed the credibility of Roger Clemens, arguably the best pitcher in his era. The same 409 page document defiled the sanctity of both Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, and their 1998 home run chase that restored interest in baseball. Rafael Palmiero's passionate testimony in front of Congress became a moot point when his name was also burned. Every one of these players were hated by the same fans that bought their jerseys. And the hall of fame has quarantined steroid users in a hotel in downtown Los Angeles.

Every player listed in the Mitchell report and the select few that have tested positive since then have been convicted in the court of public opinion. The very fans who watched Braun proclaim his innocence throttled his credibility. To the vast majority of baseball's audience, steroid users are marred as cheaters for the rest of their careers. For the men women and children who pay to watch their teams play, they expect the game they invest in to be honest.

A fan's investment in sports goes beyond the dollars they spend. Those who watch sports invest part of themselves into the games they love. These sports make memories for the people who watch them. Players who cheat the game pull down the veil of purity that viewers want from their sports. When the veil falls, nothing but anger and hurt remains. And through social media and sports talk radio, fans pulverize the athletes they once loved.

That stigma is the unhittable opponent Ryan Braun must face. An entity that no athlete has been able to ward off. Braun can't continue his steadfast denial without making himself look worse. Clemens, Palmiero, and Alex Rodriguez all adamantly denied their accusations, only to later be scorned for lying in the first place.
Nor can Braun submit to the entity as Andy Pettitte did. Like Pettitte, Braun  would then be remembered as a great player (assuming his career continues at his MVP level of last season), but he tested positive.

Braun's only chance at clearing his name is if MLB comes out and says that they wrongfully tested Braun in the first place. And that will happen right about the time that Jonhnny Vander Meer's no hitter streak gets broken: never.

Ryan Braun can roll into spring training camp with the rest of the Brewers knowing that he can play and help his team win. But last season's MVP will be accompanied everywhere he goes by the stigma of the steroid era. And that cloud, will never evaporate.