Rule 6.01 changed; infielders rejoice

We love Terry Collins. C'mon, the dude was an abject failure managing in Anaheim and Houston, and he almost single-handedly botched the Mets’ World Series chances last year, but what a guy! He’s exactly the person you'd want chiming in on the virtues of MLB Rule 6.01.

 

Utley' upends Tejada; grabs the attention of Vince McMahon

“We’re making a slide rule that keeps you on the bag,” Collins said. “You’ve got to be near the bag. And now we’re making a decision on the neighborhood play that you’ve got to stay on the bag. You know what that’s going to mean? Someone is going to get their clocks cleaned.”

Sorry, TC. Not buying it, but you should be. Ask Ruben Tejada how he feels about take-out slides. He’ll probably whack you over the head with a crutch then serve you his old cast with a healthy helping of A-1 sauce.

When Chase Utley took out Tejada, and broke his leg, in last year’s NLCS, we all knew change was coming. It was a clarion moment, with Utley joining Scott @$%* Cousins in the Needless Injury-Causing Moron Hall of Infamy. Change was inevitable. The only thing left up for grabs was whether our resulting blog post would make a Bowie or Dylan reference about the times that are a ch-ch-ch-changin’ (obviously we split the difference).

Under the new policy, designated Rule 6.01(j), a slide to break up a double play must include a “bona fide attempt” to reach and remain on the base (subject to video review) and if it is determined the runner violated the rule then interference is called and the defense gets the DP.

 

Previous offense: second base was somewhere in the area code -- presumably

This isn’t like the NFL’s fouled-up catch rule. The slide is well defined: a runner has to make contact with the ground before reaching the base, attempt and be able to reach the base and remain there after the slide, and do so without altering his path. Put simply, slide to the bag, not through it. Pretty straightforward.

Collins is having kittens because the obvious extension of this is that the so-called “neighborhood play” is history. His claim is that runners will know where the fielder is and it’ll be open season. He also probably wants eight balls for a walk and to record a put-out by drilling the runner with a throw.

Like the catcher protection rule before it, this change doesn’t eliminate contact. What it does is give both runner and fielder a safe zone. Yes, the runner knows where the fielder will be, and that should make it easy to avoid going all WWE on him. The reverse is also true. Fielders know where the runner will be, and basic fundamentals solve the problem. As kids, shortstops are taught to come across the bag and second basemen to use it as a shield while turning two.

What baseball did is remove the target from the fielder’s back and eliminate this stupid “unwritten rule.” Interpreting what is “close enough” is ridiculous since there's no rule book allowance for it in the first place. The prevalence of replay makes it plain to anyone watching whether an out, as defined, was recorded, and the loose interpretation causes more arguments than the “Star Wars” prequels (damn you, Jar-Jar Binks). Finally: safe is safe and out is out.

The rule doesn’t eliminate contact and a good, hard slide to break up a double play is well within the guidelines. What a runner can’t do is roll block Freddie Patek into the left field seats. Yes, guys are always gonna be where they shouldn’t and someone is gonna get hurt. It’s a physical sport with an element of danger, but that doesn’t excuse failing to eliminate needless injury. Crossing a street has an element of danger. Doing the Lambada against traffic is courting disaster.

If Collins doesn’t like the way the game is going, there’s always barber college. Maybe Matt Harvey can talk him into letting him keep his sideburns. Just like the catchers’ rule, this is about (a) player safety, and (b) keeping multi-million-dollar investments in action. Or maybe it’s the other way around. No matter, fans don’t pay to see some guy who started the season in AA impact a pennant race.

Lost in the hubbub was another “modification” effecting pace of play.  Visits to the mound are limited to 30 seconds and the break between frames is clipped by 20 seconds. It’s common sense. When you go to the mound, have something to say and get it said. When Jon and Dave come out of break, be on the hill and in the box, ready to go.

Hey, we didn't pay to watch a debate!

Games were shortened by six minutes last year thanks to tweaks like forbidding batters from taking a trip to the concession stand after every pitch, finally getting the average length of a nine-inning contest back under three hours. And while we wish the changes had gone further (limiting the number of visits would have been a good start) this should knock a few minutes off the game.

Length of game really isn’t the issue, it’s the maddening ability of modern baseball to squeeze 2 ½ hours of entertainment into 3:15. Long games aren’t themselves evil; one need look no further than 2014’s 18-inning NLCS epic at Washington to know the clock doesn’t matter if it’s a good game. The issue is watering down every game with long and frequent periods of inactivity in a world where other entertainment is instantaneous.  

Us older fans may lament the leisurely pace of the game, but it wasn’t long ago that “leisurely” was a now-brisk 2:40. Let’s watch the game, not a debate. Move it along, there’s Anchor Steam to be had at the Public House.

Rules change. Times change. The game changes. If the NFL, the bastion of both denial and in-game inactivity, understands the need to keep the game moving, it’s about time a superior sport does the same.