Russell Martin and I had a conversation about sign-stealing two years ago after I’d heard the New York Yankees had suspicions that the Toronto Blue Jays were stealing signs. Martin took offence – kind of.
“I’ve played with teams that steal signs,” he said. Like, the Yankees themselves? “Like I’ve said … I’ve played with teams that steal signs, not this team,” he responded with … I think it was a smirk. Or smile.
In 2011, when he was the Yankees catcher, Martin said the Blue Jays were stealing signs from second base.
“You move your head one way, it’s a fastball. You move your head the other way, it’s a slider. It was pretty blatant,” Martin said. Two years later, when he was with the Pirates, Martin thought the Yankees were stealing signs … in a Grapefruit League game.
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Of course the Blue Jays stole/steal signs. So do the Yankees. So do the Pirates. Hell, tipping off pitch type or pitch location has been going on forever. That’s why catchers and pitchers change up signs with a runner on second base. Back in the day, the price for being caught was often a fastball in the upper back. We could solve this right now by wiring up the catcher and the pitcher with two-way communication so the signs could be passed on verbally, the way the NFL allows a quarterback to have contact with the sideline/spotter’s booth to call a play. It would cut down on all those trips to the mound. Technology is a beautiful thing.
None of this is to rip on Russ, of course. But it is a suggestion for a bit of context in light of Tuesday’s revelations by the New York Times’ Michael S. Schmidt – who usually focuses on Donald Trump and Russia and all that weighty stuff – that the Boston Red Sox had admitted to using video to relay in-game information to hitters while they were at the plate. The video of the Red Sox’s dugout supplied to Major League Baseball by the Yankees showed they were “stealing” hand signals from catchers and using an Apple Watch worn by a member of the training staff, who would in turn relay the information to a player.
The Red Sox’s response was to, in effect, blame the messenger, with president Dave Dombrowski suggesting the Yankees leaked the story knowing that commissioner Rob Manfred was at Fenway Park where the Red Sox were playing the Blue Jays. And Dombrowski’s claim came after filing a counter-complaint of his own that the Yankees in-house broadcaster (YES) had provided the team with beneficial information of its own.
My god; I hope that’s true!
Here’s the thing: the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry isn’t what it used to be. There has been such a turnover in personnel in both clubhouses. The two teams are full of guys in their early- and mid-20s so the hate isn’t what it used to be. No Pedro or Big Papi or Jeter or Clemens. It’s just not the same.
Manfred mentioned at a news conference at Fenway Park that, “I do believe that this is a charged situation from a competitive perspective … when you have the kind of rivalry that the Yankees and Red Sox have,” and, I don’t know, it was almost like he couldn’t contain his glee. Baseball’s healthier than it’s ever been, but when the Yankees and Red Sox hate each other, the heart beats even louder.
Manfred stifled his glee long enough to promise a thorough investigation.
As for signs being stolen, if you’ve spent any time watching baseball you know all about this. Remember the “Man in White” at the Rogers Centre? Remember the Wall Street Journal yarn that the 1951 New York Giants comeback – Bobby Thomson’s “Shot Heard ‘Round the World” – might have been aided by signs being relayed from binoculars to the Giants bullpen and then hand-signalled in to hitters?
Alan Ashby told me how the Houston Astros noticed Pete Rose adjusting his batting helmet when he was on second base to tip off the hitter — left hand, right hand; back and forth, that type of thing — until Nolan Ryan decided that he’d had enough of it, delivered a 99-m.p.h. message to the hitter getting the sign and, well, the Astros never much worried about it from that point on.
Here’s the thing about baseball: there is an inordinate amount of standing around, nibbling on sunflower seeds or spitting out tobacco juice while scratching one’s body parts that a fella has plenty of time to think, to let the mind wander a bit, to dream up conspiracy theories. The really smart guys look for any edge. They study tics and tendencies and quirks. Former Blue Jays manager Cito Gaston still tells stories about Roberto Alomar sitting in the dugout and calling out each pitch as the opposing pitcher delivered it, a skill developed also by Carlos Delgado.
But here’s another thing about baseball: it’s not hard to find players who will tell you they don’t want to know pitch type or location, and even more who will tell you that it just simply takes too long for information to be relayed while they’re standing at the plate.
Truth is, there is really only one even remotely bothersome aspect to the story, and that’s the suggestion that at a time when baseball is becoming comfortable with the use of tablet technology for real-time analysis and information exchange, a team would be so bloody ham-handed that it would get caught. Baseball has always had this thing about the security of information going in and coming out during a game because of concerns about gambling and game-fixing – internet connectivity is supposed to be disabled in tablets used in the dugout or bullpen – which remains the third rail for a sport that gets queasier about that particular issue than it does about performance enhancing drugs. It’s why clubhouse phone calls have been regulated for years. It’s why clubhouse access is more closely monitored than ever before.
But that’s about it. Really, I’d like to go all moral on you here but, well, I just can’t. This was bound to happen.
As a result much of the response to the story ranged from, “Thank goodness; somebody’s finally found a use for the Apple Watch,” to the appropriately raised eyebrows when the Red Sox stated that neither Dombrowski or manager John Farrell were aware of the subterfuge which is – if you’ll allow me – total B.S. There is no way – no way – that a manager wouldn’t know if that was going on, especially not a manager who has a coach with an eye for detail like Brian Butterfield on his staff. Sorry; I’m just not buying it. But then, I’m still not certain I need an Apple Watch, either.
