Rob Manfred is down with making a mockery of America’s pastime in Seven Seconds or Less.
If Rob Manfred was an NBA fan, his favorite team all time would have so been Mike D’Antoni’s “Seven Seconds or Less” Phoenix Suns.
That was a fun team in the mid-2000s, but Steve Nash and friends never won diddly squat. They were the Doug Moe pioneers of pace and space, but speeding up the game is not what will get young fans interested in baseball. Surely, similar principles apply for Chip Caray semi-enthusiastically calling National League games for Bally Sports that are not the Chicago Cubs.
Just look at this absolute stooge buffoonery of a Seven Seconds or Less rule we now have in MLB.
Miami Marlins infielder Jean Segura had to grab some pine after not getting set in time for St. Louis Cardinals right-hander Chris Stratton’s latest offering in a Saturday afternoon Spring Training affair.
Seeing the pitch clock will take some getting used to, but you and I both know that some very important game in someone’s 162 will get screwed over because of this fecklessness.
Nobody on god’s green earth thinks this is making the sport of baseball better for the consumer.
Rob Manfred believes in Seven Seconds or Less more than Mike D’Antoni
Before we begin to unpack whatever the hell that was from Jupiter, here are a list of acceptable things you can readily do in your every-day life in Seven Seconds or Less. There are more, too.
- Sneeze
- Apply the brakes while driving a car
- Hold the door for somebody
- Use a can opener
- Tie your shoe
All five of these normal, every day things are more productive than this bogus Manfred creation.
As a pretty good-to-mediocre K-12 baseball player, it was kind of more important for me to get set in the batter’s box or get the sign from the catcher on the mound than seeing how fast I could go. If I wanted to go fast, I just went in the pool. Strategy, one-on-one competition, and rampant dugout shenanigans were why baseball was my favorite sport. Never once did I have the need for speed.
So as we banish the shift to hell and stuff the bags with string cheese like a Pizza Hut crust, I cannot understand why the world got itself in a hurry all of the sudden.
Frankly, I would prefer for the game of baseball to go at a leisurely place. When I go into The Chop House, I don’t want to leave as quickly as I arrived. I’m there for the vibes and the good times, and not to go fast.
Correction: One person enjoys this rate of play, and that man has two first names: Ricky Bobby.