He’s a Scorer With Integrity

From his seat in the front row of the press box, the hits, runs, errors, passed balls, sacrifices and other factors essential to maintaining the perpetuation of baseball are tabulated for posterity. Memorial Stadium’s Bill Stetka Jr., a man with a sterling reputation for objectivity, is the keeper of the official boxscore. His opinion is the only one that counts.

Stetka is eminently qualified. He was a constant visitor to Memorial Stadium as a child, was honed on the game because of his father’s past as a minor-league outfielder and later played at the high school and college levels before covering baseball as a reporter.

He brings with him sound judgment, a profound degree of fairness and the courage to make a decision that isn’t intended to be popular--only accurate. He’s not there for purposes of public relations, but rather to assess and record for history what’s evolving in front of him without regard to the color of the uniform, or any taint of provincialism.

“There’s no home team or visiting team as far as the scorer is concerned,” he said. “There can’t be. Imagine what the averages would look like if such thinking prevailed? I work for the American League and am supposed to be fair and impartial. That’s my reason for being there.”

Stetka has been in the position, working all home games with the exception of those scheduled on Sundays, since 1986, succeeding the late Neal Eskridge. It’s rare when Stetka turns to instant replay. He’ll use it, but only if there’s a question pertinent to the call and never as a play-by-play crutch.

Occasions arise when he turns to either Bob Brown or Rick Vaughn, both of the Orioles’ public relations department, for another opinion or will even consult with the umpires if they are somehow involved. If players, coaches and managers call to complain, or endeavor to influence a ruling, he’ll listen but that doesn’t mean he’s going to agree with them.

It takes a desperate man to beg for a base hit but it happens. “I think I’ve only had three calls so far this year,” he said. “It probably has something to do with the team winning. If there’s a sound argument for making a change, I’ll do it, but only if there’s reason.”

Often the mentality of a player leads him into believing anything questionable should go in his favor. There are notorious “homers” with scoring books in other parks, but Stetka isn’t among them. He’s interested only in doing what’s totally fair, the same as an impartial judge in a court of law, without regard to personality or individual reputation.

As a former newspaper reporter, he once knew all the players on a first-name basis, but in his present capacity doesn’t make it a practice to fraternize. He’s somewhat surprised, but then he isn’t, how few of the performers are properly acquainted with the rules of scoring.

Hall of Fame pitcher Don Drysdale, now a broadcaster, charged him to offer a protest after a right fielder dropped a fly ball and a run scored. Stetka decided “sacrifice fly and run batted in.” Drysdale wanted to know why. It was easy for Stetka to refer him to the scoring manual. There was supporting language that said it should be ruled that way, if, in the opinion of the scorer, the run would have scored. “Oh,” Drysdale said.

Last year, Alan Trammell, shortstop of the Detroit Tigers, easily retreated into short left field on a soft pop fly, called and waved off two teammates, and then never touched the ball as it fell safely behind his glove. Stetka, not even deliberating, signaled error and one Orioles coach, Terry Crowley, registered a difference of opinion but the call remained.

There have been continuing discussions that scorers should be employed full time, or an umpire might be rotated in the job. Stetka said he isn’t sure that would be effective. “The scorer has no influence on the outcome of the game as to wins or losses,” he said. “Our calls decide only the individual statistics, which are extremely important, but (have) nothing to do with the result.”

Scoring games, of course, is a subjective effort. But the regulations point out that in determining a hit or an error a play should be made with what is termed “ordinary effort.” That’s the key--”ordinary effort”--and one Stetka constantly keeps in focus.

How the players react in the dugout frequently has nothing to do with accuracy. Earlier this year, Frank White of the Kansas City Royals had an errorless streak at second base but mishandled a ball hit by Joe Orsulak. It was an error. “An error is an error and what becomes the first one of the year has nothing to do with the call,” Stetka said. “It’s either an error or it isn’t.”

Stetka, a graduate of Towson State University and now the school’s director of alumni services is paid $60 per game by the American League. A half-hour after the final out, his boxscore, after being proven mathematically, is dispatched by the Orioles’ publicity department to the Elias Baseball Bureau in New York.

Could he provide an illustration of when he had to consult an umpire? “Brady Anderson was called safe on a close play, but it appeared the first baseman came off the bag on a wide throw by B.J. Surhoff. I believe it was umpire Mark Johnson I went to for an opinion. He said if the throw had been accurate the runner would have been out. So it remained an error.”

Scoring, of course, is judgmental but the game would become farcical if the scorer, like an umpire, was making calls to pad the records or appease the home team. Bill Stetka Jr. brings too much integrity and honesty-of-purpose for that.