- The pitcher does a little shuffle: By the time the ball’s released his back foot is ten inches in front of the rubber.
- The ball whizzing toward the batter is loaded with pine-tar or similar foreign-substance; or the ball’s been scuffed on a sharpened belt-buckle to make it dance a little, dip, or sail.
- Then there’s the ol’ neighborhood play: The shortstop maybe not even straddles second base to double up the runner at first.
- Standing on second, the runner transmits the catcher’s signal to the batter thro some even-more elaborate signal.
- Two out and the ball’s popped up toward third as the runner scooting by orally distracts the infielder camping under it.
- On the bench players decode the third-base coach’s signs.
Leo Durocher may have stationed someone with binoculars in the center-field clubhouse of the Polo Grounds. But the latest revelations round the Houston Astros of 2017 and beyond (there were rumors of whistled-signals from the bench in 2019, substituting the garbage can; and were batters wired for pitch-info?) replace all the rest with an electric amplifier.
To think: It all started with Mike Fiers, the most-famous whistle (tho not literally, from the Astros dugout) blower since the Ukraine phone call.
PED are serious enough. Ditto the Suits messing with the liveliness of the ball. The reason the Chicago Black Sox Scandal of a hundred years ago is the seismic U.S.-sports infraction to our time is because it leaves fans questioning whether they are yawning thro predetermined exhibitions. Pro wrestling.