You're not thinking three-dimensionally

I've been following the Major League Baseball playoffs... begrudgingly. I don't have a strong rooting interest. Since the Rays have decided not to move to Montreal, I feel a connection has been severed.

Of course, it's not as though I was pulling for the Yankees in that series; twelve year old Scaia would have tanned my hide. Plus, the NexGen Expos will soon usher in a new golden age for the league.

The Texas Rangers have assumed the role of honorary 1994 Montreal Expos by having one amazing season sandwiched among disappointment and near misses. The Cincinnati Reds, also honorary 1994 Expos, have only made the playoffs once in the past 13 years (excluding the shortened COVID season when everyone got a participation trophy).

Since I don't have a strong rooting interest, I've become emotionally invested in the umpires. Loyal Scaiaholics will recall my hall of fame "career" as an umpire. In that blog, you can read Harry Wendelstedt's advice when someone questioned whether a pitch was a strike.

"It was a strike because I called it a strike," he explained. If umpires start second-guessing themselves, they will start making more mistakes. Even the worst umpires got 86% of pitches right.

But this is the first year MLB is using computer machines to second-guess pitches.

In this compendium, "Everything you need to know about the ABS Challenge System," the author could have simply written one sentence: It's wrong.

When I saw this flat, two dimensional abomination, I was mortified. In this panic, I texted an associate who had worked minor league ball.

He explained the 3D strike zone created too many strikes that looked like balls.

"I don't think you're being completely honest with me," I really did respond, questioning if MLB had even heard of a Z-axis.

"I am being 100% honest," he wrote back. Patiently. Like you might explain to a child who's learning Santa Claus may not be real.

Umpires are now graded on how they call pitches as they cross the middle of the plate. It's not as though any pitcher has ever plotted a pitch that might "curve" or "slide" and only pass the strike zone over part of the plate. That's preposterous.

They even show the path of the ball leading up to home plate. Why can't it be a box instead of a square? You can even see the catcher expressing--with his eyes--"I feel like home plate used to be thicker than a sheet of paper."

But I'm a problem-solver. We could stop calling it a "strike zone" and use a more truthful term like "strike square." I'd suggest, though, shifting to a three-dimensional shape because, you know, that's what the rule book says. Then you wouldn't have a strike zone or strike square. Instead, we'd have a strike pentahedron, which we can all agree sounds more futuristic.

Look at the excitement on the fans' faces after that call was overturned because it didn't cross the strike square. You could recreate that zeal in the stadium and at watch parties across the country so much more often with a strike pentahedron!

If I had succeeded as a Major League umpire, I'd have organized marches on the commissioner's office. Perhaps they made the right call in sending me home.