Suppose it’s the third inning of a scoreless baseball game and the team at bat has runners on first and second. There are two outs and the batter has a full count. Do you send the runners? Yes, because nothing bad can happen and something good can happen. If the pitch is a ball, the runners advance anyway. If the pitch is a strike, or if the batter makes an out, the inning is over. But suppose the batter hits a ball into the gap between outfielders. If the runners aren’t moving, it’s possible that only one of them scores. If they are moving, it’s possible that both of them score. Since the objective of the game is to outscore one’s opponent, and since it’s always possible that moving the runners will score at least one additional run, there is always a reason to move the runners.
Or is there? This past Tuesday, at the Ballpark in Arlington, my friend Hawk and I got into a vociferous (but friendly) argument. The Texas Rangers (our adopted team) trailed the Kansas City Royals, 9-5, in the bottom of the ninth inning. The Rangers had runners on first and second. There were two outs and the batter had a full count. Hawk said the runners should be moving, and they were. I said they had no reason to be moving. Hawk was aghast. Back and forth we went, all the way out of the ballpark, all the way to my car, and all the way to Hawk’s car in the UTA parking lot a few miles away. By the time we parted, each of us was hoarse from insulting the other. “You don’t know a damn thing about baseball!” one of us would roar. The other would retort: “I lost all respect for you as a baseball man this evening.”
Funny stuff, eh? But there’s a serious issue here. Who’s right?
It was obvious to me during the game, and has been ever since, that the rule about moving runners didn’t apply in the situation. Why? Because it wasn’t important for either of the two runners to score, much less for both of them to score. For the Rangers to win, they had to tie, and to tie, they had to get the batter on base. That would bring up the tying run. As far as I could see, it didn’t matter where the runners were, as long as they weren’t out. I kept explaining this to Hawk, but all he would say is, “You always move the runners.” He was exasperated, and so was I.
I’ve been thinking and talking about this problem since the game ended. The other day, I asked readers of this blog for input. I now think Hawk was right: There was reason to move the runners, even in that situation. But he was right for the wrong reason. I, by contrast, was wrong for the right reason.
(One irony about this dispute is that Hawk kept telling me to stop being “logical” and to stop “analyzing” the situation. Obviously that’s impossible for me, a trained philosopher. It was logic and analysis that brought me to an understanding of what happened, which I am now trying to articulate.)
We know that there can be more than one rationale for a rule. The rule against torture, for example, can be grounded in either consequentialism or deontology. One rationale for the rule about moving the runners when there are two outs and a full count is that it increases the likelihood of scoring runs. Call this “the general rationale.” Another rationale is that it increases the likelihood of the batter reaching base. Call this “the special rationale.” In this particular situation, the general rationale didn’t apply. Getting the runners home wasn’t important; getting the batter on base was important.
So the question changes to this: Does the special rationale apply? That is, does moving the runners increase the likelihood that the batter will reach base? Notice that this has nothing to do with the runners scoring. Joshua Smart, a reader of this blog, correctly identified at least one case in which moving the runners does increase the likelihood of the batter reaching base. Suppose a ball is hit into the hole between the third baseman and the shortstop. The shortstop fields it in shallow left field. If the runners are not moving, there may be an easy play (or at least a play) at third base, ending the game. But if the runners are moving, the shortstop may have to throw to first base, and the throw might not make it in time. Result? The batter reaches base, which brings the tying run to the plate.
There may be other advantages to moving the runners in that situation. If there are, they are advantages because they increase the likelihood of the batter reaching base, not because they increase the likelihood of a run scoring. Do you see the difference?
So where does that leave us? Hawk was right that the rule is to move the runners when there are two outs and a full count. But, as we saw, this rule has different rationales, depending on the situation. Most of the time, the rationale is to score more runs. The other night, in that special situation, the rationale was to get the batter on base. Hawk didn’t grasp that the general rationale for the rule didn’t apply in that situation. (He kept yammering about the ball being hit into the gap, scoring both runners.) My mistake was thinking that, since the general rationale for the rule didn’t apply in that situation (I was right about that), no other rationale applied. Thanks to Joshua, I know that that’s wrong.
Ain’t baseball great?