I have become something of an expert on baseball. I've diligently watched two games of the World Series, listening to every word of the color commentators, and I've asked my knowledgeable friends several questions.
From this I have learned where the elusive strike zone is and even the names of all four bases! Here's what I have to say about pitcher/batter relationships: There shouldn't be any. Seriously, most of these guys are married; their wives are up in the stands watching the whole affair; they might have kids to think about. I just can't condone it.
Actually, the relationship is simple for anyone who has played paper-rock-scissors. The batter tries to guess what the pitcher is going to do and vice-versa. There's also some intimidation going on — the pitcher is always attempting to rattle the batter prior to the pitch.
Most of all, there is this phenomenon of domination/submission in the pitching/batting scenario that resides in two tiny holes in the players' head — no, not the puncture wounds of Andy Pettitte's lobotomy. It's all in the eyes, my friends. Every pitcher seems to shoot a different look toward the batter, and it seems that the degree to how scary that look is determines just how effective his pitching will be. Let's look at the examples from this World Series' pitching lineup.
Diamondbacks pitcher Curt Schilling stares directly at home plate while mumbling gibberish voodoo words like "slider," "knuckleball" and "knucklesandwich." All the while he stares blankly over the plate and seems cognizant only of the conversation he is carrying on inside his head. Definitely psycho behavior if I've ever seen it.
D-backs pitcher Randy Johnson displays similar patterns of intimidating behavior on the mound. His eyes leer over the top of his glove as he slowly decides how to embarrass the poor soul/insignificant insect in front of him. Both of these pitchers, when they take the mound, resemble their teams' namesake, coiled and ready to strike.
This thing with the eyes is not solely the territory of D-Backs pitchers. New York Yankees pitcher Andy Pettitte appears as death warmed over as he focuses his dark eyes on the victim (or batter) from just under the bill of his cap. The glare resembles not so much a Yankee Doodle Dandy as it does Marilyn Manson after a week without sleep. If looks could kill his would filet a person while they still lived and then bathe them in vinegar (gruesome, huh?). Although it failed to touch Matt Williams when he slugged a homer in the seventh inning of the second game in Phoenix Sunday.
Truth to be told, it's not just pitchers that can stare down rocks and make them cry. My mother can do it too (and she's going to read this article and give me one of them).
So, anyway, these guys would scare me were I to face them at bat, but for someone like Luis Gonzalez (D-Backs) it's nothing; Derek Jeter (NY) is apparently as scared of Schilling and Johnson as I would be (poor guy can't seem to get a hit). Batters have their own terms of intimidation that they use: flexing, tapping their shoes with the bat, scratching themselves or blinking repetitively and squinting toward the outfield. We're not talking about them
It, however, truly is a great game that can intrigue me for three hours with the same three things happening over and over: glare, pitch, scratch, glare, pitch, scratch, glare, pitch, scratch, wish for cheerleaders.
I'd provide more examples for us to peruse, but I've exhausted the supply of names I know in baseball. I could make some up, but I'm sure there are people out there who can recite the rosters of every team, and I don't want a slew of corrections made to my bystanders' understanding of the World Series and the teams in it.
If you haven't watched a game in the Series — do. And please enjoy the faces. Maybe make some yourself. It'll take you back to a simpler time when all you had to worry about was your grandmother informing you that if you made ugly faces, your face just might stay like that (in which case you'd be able to have a lucrative career as a major league pitcher).
North Noelck is a biology sophomore. Reach him at
north.noelck@asu.edu.
