PITCHING MACHINE

Human arms were not designed for pitching. Evidence of that, beyond the bloated ERAs, is the fact that Tommy John leads a platoon of pitchers walking around with transplanted tendons to replace the ones they blew out and Nolan Ryan is selling pain killers on television.

This is why about 100 years ago, a clever fellow named Howard Hinton designed the first pitching machines.

In those days, there were a fistful of rubber-armed pitchers. None of them were wimps, either. Cy Young pitched 751 complete games. Walter Johnson had 531.

Joe McGinnity of the New York Giants once started and completed both ends of a doubleheader three times in a month and won all six games, which is why they called him Iron Man. Ol’ Hoss Radbourne once totaled 678 innings in a season for the Providence Grays and threw batting practice, too, probably just to stay loose.

All of them are in the Hall of Fame, liniment division.

In those days, though, there was no option. There were fewer pitchers on rosters and teams needed warm bodies to throw BP.

Then, along came Hinton, a Princeton professor, who hooked up a slingshot device that would fire fastballs at hitters and eventually was refined to toss occasional curves, as well. Over the years, the artificial arms added all kinds of wrinkles and some even served up knuckleballs.

As baseball evolved, so did pitching machines. The latest innovation is the ProBatter system, a computer-controlled video operation that can throw seven different pitches interchangeably to multiple locations at speeds up to 100 mph.

Designers installed one last week in Manhattan, giving businessmen a chance to shed their jackets and take some swings.

Instead of some contraption made out of metal and looking like a small cannon sitting 60 feet, 6 inches away, the batter faces a video pitcher who winds up and delivers. The machine’s ball release is timed precisely with the motion of the make-believe hurler. The hitter can swing against a lefty or righty and select a sequence of pitches.

Start with a 90-mph fastball on the black. Then go from dead red to a knuckleball, dancing every which way. Or maybe a splitter or slider that drops out of the strike zone at the last second.

The machine even throws devious stuff like cutters and screwballs.

Some hitters don’t like to know what’s coming. After all, in real games, Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez aren’t advertising what they’re going to throw next. So, for those who prefer surprises, ProBatter lets the computer pick the pitches and the hitter takes his chances with technology.

Up and in.

Down and away.

There are all sorts of possibilities. The only thing missing is a smart guy bench jockey yelling, “Try to hit this one, big boy!”

This is not some arcade operation throwing 50-mph tennis balls. This is hardball, live BP that comes as close as possible to game conditions.

When developers showed off the machine at the Boston Red Sox spring training camp, bench coach Buddy Bailey, a former catcher, came up with an idea. Let pitchers pick the sequence of deliveries rather than having hitters pick them. That way hurlers can simulate game conditions and strategies.

Wally Luebers, one of ProBatter’s partners, understands if the system isn’t embraced everywhere.

“Some people aren’t receptive to new technology,” he said. “Some are a little nervous about it.”

It’s a dramatic adjustment from the typical batting range. But the realism is uncanny.

“When we throw a pitch,” Luebers said, “it not only a distinct type and speed but it goes in a specific quadrant of the zone. It’s within 2 inches.”

Every time?

“Well,” Luebers said, “Every now and then we hang a breaking ball.”

Now that’s really realistic.

And here’s the best part. The ProBatter system doesn’t have any of those delicate tendons that might break down and need to be replaced.