Hit or error? Depends on your point of view

You say it's a hit while he says it's an error.

You say it's an error and she says it's a hit.

You say stolen base and someone else says defensive indifference.

You say 2 runs batted in on a play and another fan says one.

You say wild pitch and I say passed ball. Although my longtime Daily Herald colleague and former catcher Marty Stengle always joked there was no such thing as the latter.

It's a rite of spring for those of us keeping score at baseball and softball games. One set of eyes views it one way and another views it differently.

They are decisions that have no bearing on who wins or loses a game. But in an increasingly statistically driven sports society, they have an impact on batting averages, earned run averages, fielding percentages, etc ...

In some cases there are guidelines. A pitch that hits the dirt, even if you could reasonably expect a catcher to block it, is a wild pitch. You may not agree with it, but that's how the scoring rules work.

In other cases there is plenty of gray area. Did a pitch high and wide of the strike zone appear catchable (passed ball) or was it too tough to handle (wild pitch)?

Oh, and if a runner was going on the pitch in either case, now it's a stolen base. Unless, of course, it's late in the game and the other team wasn't concerned with runner, so instead of a stolen base it could be ruled as defensive indifference.

Then there is the challenge of determining hits or errors. Some of them such as dropped flyballs, fumbled grounders and bad throws are, well, as routine to determine as those plays are themselves.

But what about the player who hits a one-hop shot through a shortstop's legs? Or the ball hit in the gap in left-center where the outfielder had to make a long run and then has it pop in and out of the glove? Or the slow spinner where a third baseman's only chance is to grab it with his bare hand and make an immediate throw?

All plays and situations are different — particularly when you take into account these are still high school kids and not Gold Glove major leaguers. Plus, playing conditions aren't always ideal.

A couple of nights ago the White Sox' Juan Pierre hit a chopper just past the mound that was fumbled by the Kansas City third baseman.

It wasn't an easy play but I thought it was an error and so did the official scorer. Sox broadcaster Hawk Harrelson thought it should have been a hit.

And then there is the situation when a pitcher is throwing a no-hitter.

Do you view plays in the sixth inning different than the third inning? Some say yes and others say no.

What you are hoping for, if it gets broken up, is a clean, no-doubt about it, line shot nowhere near a fielder. It's usually something that starts entering your mind about the fourth inning or if you can tell a pitcher has no-hit caliber stuff.

The big-league scorers in press boxes have the benefit these days of watching multiple replays before rendering their decision. Then they'll wait for a phone call a few minutes later from an angry hitting or pitching coach wondering what in the world you were watching.

That luxury doesn't exist at the high school level. You get one shot at it and then it's done.

If there are other reporters there we may talk about it before deciding. Or solicit the opinions of a coach afterward — and the vast majority I've been around through the years are pretty fair and tough scorers.

But you still have multiple eyes viewing what could be a prize for either the hitter, pitcher or fielder. A great story about official scoring came out of Mike Shropshire's hilarious book “Seasons In Hell,” about covering the early years of the Texas Rangers.

Shropshire was scoring a game one night and a Rangers catcher named Dick Billings hit a shot down the line past the Orioles' Brooks Robinson, arguably the best defensive third baseman in baseball history.

Shropshire said he figured Robinson should make those plays so he scored it “E-5.” After the game, another Rangers player confronted Shropshire about the decision. Shropshire then went up and told Billings he may have missed this call.

“Didn't you see that batting average they flash on the scoreboard when I come up to hit?” Billings told Shropshire. “It's .169 and that says it all.When you're batting .169 this late in the year you don't go whining to the official scorer ... you consult a hypnotist. Know any good ones?”

Brooks Robinson likely thought Shropshire needed a psychiatrist. It goes with the territory whether you're officially scoring at home, in the dugout or on the sideline.

mmaciaszek@dailyherald.com