Taking a Swing at Bad Rules

There are lots of things that drive me up a wall: Drivers in front of you who don’t get out in the intersection while making a left turn so you can make the turn, too; people who get on airplanes carrying what appears to be a complete 6-piece living room set; too-loud music, and TV weathermen who say they’re bringing us bad news it may rain on the weekend when we haven’t had any rain in a year.

The world of sports is no exception. There are some things I’m absolutely fed up with and not going to take anymore. For instance:

--Fumbles are fumbles. I am sick to death of guys dropping footballs and having officials rule that “the ground caused it,” the runner “had one knee on the ground,” he “didn’t have possession of the pass,” or he was “in the grasp.”

Look, hold on to the damn ball! In the old schoolyard, we never let a guy get away with dropping the ball. If he didn’t have the ball when the play was over and you peeled people off him, baby, it was too bad for him. It was your ball. Period. No argument. Possession was not 9 points of the law, it was 10.

The National Football League is getting so there’s no such thing as a fumble. It should not be negotiable, not subject to any instant replay. If you do not have the ball in your hands, you have done lost it. What’s this with “the ground caused it”? We used to play on concrete.

--Strikes are strikes. If a batter, totally fooled on a pitch, begins to swing at a ball and holds up at the last minute when he sees he isn’t going to hit it, it’s curving or sliding or sinking, that’s just too bad. It’s a strike. No appeal to the third-base umpire, no consultation as to whether he “broke his wrists” or any other la-dee-dah consultation.

In the old neighborhood, if the bat left the shoulder, you had better keep swinging. We didn’t have any of this “checked swing” nonsense, and neither should the pros. If a guy is that badly fooled on a pitch, it belongs to the pitcher.

Listen! If a guy starts to check his swing and tries to hold back and he happens to hit the ball by mistake in the process and hits it off the center-field wall for a triple, does the ump come out and wave his arms and say, “No, no! That was a checked swing. No play!”? Of course not. It’s a checked-swing three-base hit.

Well, until the pitcher can argue that the hit shouldn’t count because the batter was trying not to break his wrists, the batter shouldn’t be able to argue it shouldn’t count as a strike just because he didn’t break his wrists.

--Don’t block that kick. I’ll never understand why overzealous special teams players make a mad, reckless rush at a punter in an effort to block a kick and risk running into the kicker, drawing a penalty and giving up a first down in the process.

Look! You’re going to get the ball anyway on the kick. For all you know, the returner may run it all the way back for a touchdown. Your chances of running into the kicker on the play are probably better than your chances of blocking the kick. There are times when it’s better to let the kick, even a field goal, go off as planned.

In a game the other night, the underdog Miami Dolphins had just stopped a Buffalo drive on the Miami 10-yard line, forcing the Bills to settle for a field goal.

In a forlorn effort to block the field goal, a defender crashed into the kicker. The kick was good anyway, but the net result was, the Bills took the penalty and the first down and, a moment later, scored a touchdown. The blocker’s misguided zeal had resulted in a net loss of 4 points.

--When you do block a kick, you should get it. The New York Giants blocked a field goal try by the Philadelphia Eagles. They did exactly what they were supposed to do. They won the battle. They had stopped the Eagles, forced them into a 3-point try, then did what they were supposed to do with that: blocked it. It was first-rate textbook football.

And their reward? The ball caromed crazily--and came down in the arms of a Philadelphia lineman who lumbered into the end zone for a touchdown.

That’s rewarding the inept, penalizing the competent. It shouldn’t be. When you block a field goal--or a punt--the ball should be ineligible for a touchdown or even a first down by the kicking team. It should be the blocking team’s ball. You don’t win a crapshoot throwing snake eyes or a pot with a busted straight.

--Golf balls should land where they want to. When an errant shot to a green is heading in the general direction of the Pennsylvania Turnpike and hits a spectator, the rules of golf should provide that the ball must be replaced in the approximate spot it was heading when it was interfered with. This should also apply to balls hit into grandstands around the 18th green.

Today’s rules permit it to be replaced in full sight of the hole alongside the grandstand, usually an easy chip. If the grandstand weren’t there, the guy might have to play his next shot out of the clubhouse window. Let him.

--Leave the sacrifices to saints. Managers who bunt should be fired. The last time the bunt worked, William Howard Taft was in the White House. Giving up an out for a base is the worst bargain since the Indians gave up Manhattan Island for a box of beads. If a guy can bunt successfully, he can hit.

So, to sum up, the moral of the story is: Always take a full swing in life; if a guy has a kick coming, let him, and never interfere with a golf ball or a field goal in flight. And the fair catch is un-American.