Hey there, speed bags. Yesterday, this season’s eventual World Series champion Chicago Cubs went down to the Marlins, 2-1, in a 17 inning marathon. Seein’ as how that mattress stain, Rob Manfred, has a major chubby over folding up a baseball game nice and neat-like so it fits into his pocket watch, I thought this an opportune time to throw out my own ideas for speedin’ up the game. I figure it’s gonna happen anyway, right? Fighting off Manfred-types is a full time job, and usually a losing battle. They’re everywhere, like [NAME OF LYING POLITICIAN, HERE] or [NAME OF ARROGANT HOLLYWOOD TYPE, HERE] who think they know what’s best for you, me and the rest of humanity, no matter what the subject. And they’re not the least bit shy about tryin’ to force their opinions — or if it’s Harvey Weinstein, his hairy, sweaty, lard-jiggling body — on anyone with a pulse.

In Manfred’s case — in spite of the internet rumors floatin’ around about him and the San Diego Chicken — I’m pretty sure it’s just baseball he’s systematically tryin’ to ruin. And by “just baseball”, I don’t mean to make it sound unimportant, cuz it is, my friend. How important? Well … if there was a moon-size asteroid headin’ towards Earth at a bazillion miles an hour, and we had a choice between figuring out how to avoid the destruction of all life on Earth, or savin’ baseball from the menstruation-like mood swings of Rob Manfred — I’d save baseball. No question. I mean, without baseball (which includes encased meat products, Old Style and curly fries) life’s not worth livin’ anyway. Simple choice.

So, without further adieu (or any adieu at all, for that matter) here are my speed up the game rule suggestions for Mr Womanfred:

Chuck instant replay for a coin flip. (Savings: Between 2 and 5 minutes per review.)

If there’s one thing baseball has done to slow down ball games more than anything (besides giving David Price and Daisuke Matsuzaka major league contracts) it’s allowin’ umpires to review certain plays using instant replay. Lemme tell ya, there’s nothin’ instant about it, pal. As soon as a manager points to the headset technician, you might as well grab your favorite reading material and go drop the kids off at the pool, cuz absolutely nothin’ is happening in the ballgame for at least 5 minutes. Seems like there are a handful of these in every game, too. Problem is, I only got so many kids that need swimmin’ lessons in any given 3 hour period, which makes for a lot of watchin’ umpires standing around.

You gotta ask yourself one question, though: Is the added review time worth gettin’ the calls right? Yes, is the answer. It’s worth it. As someone who’d rather have his left nut removed with a rusty hacksaw than have an umpire screw up a call, I’m willin’ to wait it out. (Boy, am I ever willin’ to wait that out.) But unlike the Commish, I don’t think there’s something wrong with the length of a ballgame.

Consider this: From 2014 thru 2017, there were 5,359 challenges issued in major league games, with the original call being upheld 50.96% of the time. Thursday — opening day 2018 — was right on track with that, too. Six challenges were issued — three upheld and three overturned. Basically blue is right only half of the time on close calls. Not good enough for me.

Now you could just do away with instant replay, which I don’t wanna, but you’d definitely save time. Or … you could replace instant replay with a coin flip. The home plate umpire flips a coin and the call is made by the manager issuing the challenge. The law of averages says it’ll work out about the same as having no replay at all — 50/50. But the arbitrary nature of it, which makes no sense at all, means its exactly like all the other changes Manfred has force-fed Major League Baseball, that also make no sense.

The Major League mercy rule. (Savings: Between 42 and 53 minutes.)

I’m sure half of Manfred’s itch to speed up the game has to do with him wantin’ to get home before his favorite nail salon closes. Here’s an idea … At the conclusion of the 7th inning, a team shall be declared the winner of the game if it has already accumulated a lead of three runs or more. If the differential favors the home team, this determination will be made after the conclusion of the visiting team’s turn at bat.

There you go, Lord Manfred. The first step toward seven inning games, which I know is what you really want.

The three foul ball rule. (Savings: About 1 minute per foul ball saved.)

This would be an addendum to Rule 5.09, “Making an Out.” To the long list (15 in all) of stipulations defining when a batter is out, Manfred could add the following:

A batter is out when, with two strikes, he accumulates three foul balls:
(a) In addition to any that resulted in either or both of the first two strikes;
(b) None of which is legally caught by a fielder;
(c) None of which are foul tips caught by the catcher.

I’ve been to games — tons of ’em — where guys foul off 8 or 10 pitches in an at bat. It’s like Bobby Fisher and Boris Spassky on a diamond. (No, White Sox fans, they are not in the Hall of Fame.) It’s friggin’ awesome! Especially when it’s a Cubs player doing the fouling off and a guy like Kershaw getting meat-grinder arm. But Manfred’s bird brain doesn’t understand how great that is; it doesn’t see a duel of wills between pitcher and batter; it doesn’t feel any edge-of-the-seat tension. The Manfred brain just counts the extra minutes that are being added to the elapsed time of the game, which in turn sends signals to the glass-shard, acid-coated, beachball-sized burr he’s got lodged in his backside that make it rotate a time or two.

Note: Based on last years numbers, the rules committee is considering adding a 16th sub-item to “Making an Out” in the official MLB rule book, which would read as follows: “If the player’s name is Jose Bautista.”

Pitching change, smitching change. (Savings: About 12 minutes.)

A helluva lot of extra time is introduced into ballgames due to pitching changes. Limiting them would speed the game up a ton. It sounds like a crazy idea — and it is, my friend — cuz it removes a good portion of the strategy available to managers. Of course, that’s what the Designated Hitter rule did, too, and that sissy thing has been around the junior circuit for decades.

But let’s take a look at the numbers. In 2016, for instance, each team used 4.15 pitchers per game. That means, on average, you’re stoppin’ each game 6.3 times to bring in a new arm and give him his eight warm-up tosses. I figure that’s about 18 minutes.

Possible Manfred rule: Limit pitching changes to two per team, including the closer, should the manager decide to use one. An exception would be made for injury, but other than that, just two pitching changes per nine innings.

Enforce the rules you already got. (Savings: 45.75 minutes.)

Plain and simple, baseball doesn’t need more rules. In fact they could stand to repeal a few, most especially that Designated Hitter abomination. And in regard to speedin’ up the game, Manfred only needs to open up his 2018 Major League Rule Book and check out page 35. Rule 5.07(c), “Pitcher Delays”, which reads as follows:

When the bases are unoccupied, (like anytime the Cubs are playin’ the Cards and the Cards are battin’) the pitcher shall deliver the ball to the batter within 12 seconds after he receives the ball. Each time the pitcher delays the game by violating this rule, the umpire shall call “Ball.”

The 12-second timing starts when the pitcher is in possession of the ball and the batter is in the box, alert to the pitcher. The timing stops when the pitcher releases the ball.

The intent of this rule is to avoid unnecessary delays. The umpire shall insist that the catcher return the ball promptly to the pitcher, and that the pitcher take his position on the rubber promptly. Obvious delay by the pitcher should instantly be penalized by the umpire.

Given that whiffle ball head of Manfred’s, it’s possible that rule 5.07(c) went in one hole and out another. There’s a good chance of that. Or maybe his dog ate page 35 of his rule book. Whatever it is, we don’t need a pitch clock and rules defining it. Instead, Womanfred needs to man up and tell that group of narcissist’s called Major League Umpires to do their friggin’ jobs and enforce the rules baseball already has.

And here’s why:

Daisuke Matsuzaka’s pitch pace is the slowest in Major League Baseball, averaging a turtle-like 25.9 seconds between pitches. Mark Buehrle gets the rabbit award with a 16.4 second interval. So even though Buehrle is the lightning bolt of big league pitchers, there’s still a lot of molasses in his gearbox.

Let’s shove the probe up that donkey just a little bit further:

Now take the average between Matsuzaka and Buehrle — 21.15 seconds between pitches — and use that as the average pace for all pitchers. That’s 9.15 seconds over the 12 seconds allotted under Rule 5.07(c). Multiply that figure by the number of pitches in a game — 300 (approximately 150 per side, on average) and you get a total of 2,745 seconds. That’s 45.75 minutes. I think there are some marsupials that have shorter gestation periods than that.

So, Manfred, enforce the friggin’ rules you already got, and keep your sticky fingers off of the perfection of the game.

For anyone who feels I’m unfairly pickin’ on Manfred …

Not so. I’ve picked on every Commissioner baseball has ever had, equally. Besides, they haven’t averaged more than 23 brain cells between them (although that figure would be higher if you took Bud Selig out of the equation). Manfred is just the most recent example of the destructive effects that pathological stupidity can have on the game of baseball. Unfortunately, he won’t be the last.

Joe