Baats and bals

Ear tug, nose pinch, shoulder shield, belt brace, crotch cradle: these are the ways major league managers communicate to their players on the field.

I didn't believe it either. But it's true. I went to a game yesterday and watched. As soon as one play is over, the hitting team's manager begins a face-tugging mating ritual. The third base coach interprets and resignals to, well, nobody. Every pitch. Each time, neither the batter nor the runner(s) were watching.

It's no surprise that Mr. Burn's essentially won the game with his hilarious signaling. It's probably the least consequential part of baseball, a game so repetitive that the most exciting aspect, besides gossiping about who's juicing, and seeing who can projectile vomit furthest at the sound of Michael Kay's voice, is the anticipation of a statistical anomaly. Don't get me wrong -- I'm in love with baseball. IN LOVE. Joseph Gordon-Levitt in love. But in a game where almost every possible scenario (personal favorite: most HBPs by a Samoan with 2 outs against a pitcher 30 years or older with hepatitis) has been exhaustively overplayed, how could any manager not be 90% certain of their opponent's strategy?

Who is actually watching those managers, waiting for them to slip up? It can't be worth it to an organization to spend the necessary time and energy to "crack" the intentions of a manager, whose best strategy is always known to both sides. If no one's paying attention anyway, what's the difference if they do steal it?

The answer of course is no one cares about the signals. So why do they do it? Superstition? To keep the 3rd base coach conscious? Authority complex? Honestly, I think it goes back to the old adage about the circle of eccentric Cuban billionaires that secretly control all of baseball and who have miraculously kept Lou Piniella on the payroll long after he should have been thrown in jail . How's that one go again? stupid brain.