February 5, 2012
A Perfect Game Lost, But Perfect Virtue Found
By this point, nearly everybody – baseball fan or not – has heard of the “perfect” game by Armando Galarraga of the Detroit Tigers. The quotes that undermine “perfect” were contributed by Jim Joyce, the umpire who, in his own words, “kicked the [stuffing]” out of the call that should have capped the triumph.
In the game played June 2 in Detroit against the Cleveland Indians, Galarraga retired the first 26 batters he faced without allowing a single base runner. When the 27th batter, Jason Donald, hit a ground ball to first baseman Miguel Cabrera, Galarraga covered the bag and took the throw. As the replay watched a gazillion times by baseball fans confirmed, Donald was out by about three feet. But Joyce called him safe.
When I first saw the replay myself, I remember feeling bad for the ump. “He’ll never live down that call,” I thought. “It will follow him to his grave and sit on his tombstone.” I felt bad for Galarraga as well, assuming he’d lost his chance for a place in the record books.
But the character each man displayed in his reaction to the mistake has made them winners in a way that transcends mere sports. Their natural and immediate responses also exemplify the difference between a Level 2 identity and a Level 3 outlook on life.
Judgment call
If the mantra of Level 2 dominance is “I must always win,” the mantra of Level 3 is “I feel most happy when helping others.” It’s not the easiest outlook to maintain in the world of sports, where winning is a natural, proper goal.
For athletes with a muscular Level 2 streak, winning is the only goal. Losing or even setbacks during a game spark anger and tantrums; victories, large and small, bring out taunting and trash talk. Former tennis star John McEnroe now pokes fun at his on-court rants in rental car ads. Terrrell Owens’ frequently penalized end-zone antics after a touchdown hurt his team, but they made TO what he loves to be, the center of national attention. Lebron James tried to justify his poor sportsmanship in refusing the customary handshakes with opponents after Cleveland was eliminated by Orlando last year. “I’m a winner. … If somebody beats you up, you’re not going to congratulate them. That doesn’t make sense to me.”
Fans tend to overlook bad behavior in players they root for, and wag their fingers forcefully when adversaries are boorish. A great deal of the pleasure in sports comes from Level 2 bragging rights – the joy of one city crowing “we’re better than you” to another city.
That’s why the conduct of Galarraga and Joyce was so refreshing and inspiring. There were no excuses from Joyce, or any effort to rationalize his mistake. When he talked to reporters after the game, his focus was on the harm he had caused Galarraga.
“This isn’t a call – it’s a history call and I kicked it. There is nobody who feels worse than I do. … I took a perfect game away from that kid who worked his [backside] off all night. … If I were Galarraga, I would have been the first one standing there. I would have said something immediately. He didn’t say a word. Not a word.”
In fact, right after the call, Galarraga smiled as if to say, “You’ve got to be kidding!” Even after he saw the replay and fully realized what had happened, he didn’t lash out. The next day in an interview, he explained his response.
“You don’t want to get all crazy about it, because you’re not going to win anything by going crazy or being in his face and saying, ‘You’re wrong!, You’re wrong!’ Everything happened so fast, I couldn’t think so much, and when I could think better, I said, ‘What can I do?’ The guy apologized to me right away last night. He feels really bad. I gave him a hug and said, ‘Move on.’”
Tiger’s manager Jim Leyland did what mangers are supposed to do: he rushed onto the field and protested the bad call. But the next day, after seeing Joyce’s contrition, Leyland defended the umpire’s reputation.
“You don’t want to downplay the call but at the same time, it’s the human element. We all make mistakes. It was an innocent mistake. It wasn’t a belligerent or an ‘I’ll show you’ mistake. It wasn’t anything like that. This guy is one of the best umpires, and he’s one of the best guys. And I just pray to God that Detroit comes out with a big hand for him today.”
Felix culpa
The next day, Leyland asked Galarraga to take out the lineup card at the start of the game, which he handed to Joyce. He shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder. A visibly choked up Joyce accepted the card and the forgiveness.
Reflecting on the incredible turn of events, Galarraga had one observation that was widely reported or quoted: “It happened for a reason.” Boy, did it ever.
Galarraga has become famous for something far more important than pitching, and his performance, on and off the field, will be remembered and talked about far longer than if the call had gone his way.
Joyce’s reputation, far from being destroyed, was burnished by his humility. In a survey of 100 major leaguers two weeks after his blown call, Joyce was named the best umpire in baseball.
And Leyland, known for his crustiness, showed that his crust concealed a warm, magnanimous heart. “What’s that saying?” he asked the next day. “‘Cast the first stone.’ … We just aren’t the type of society that beats people up. We are a very forgiving society.”
It certainly helps when people in the national spotlight set the right example. Perfect games are great, but perfect virtue is better.
– By John Keenan, Editor
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Last changed: Mar 09 2011 at 10:08 AM