Baseball Sign-Stealing Scandal: “Say It Ain’t So!”

I love baseball. Sometimes I think that makes me a dying breed, but then I go to a game to see my beloved San Francisco Giants at their beautiful Orenco Park, thrilled to be in a full stadium with fellow Giants fans. 

I’m a late bloomer; I did not play in Little League. Growing up in Los Angeles, I started out as a Dodger fan. (I know, I know. That means I’m a team traitor, but I moved to San Francisco in 1986, fell in love with the Giants, and never looked back.) But I didn't actually play the game myself until my college days in the 1970s, when I would watch my friends play informal pick-up games on the athletic field. One day, someone noticed me sitting alone on the grass.

“Hey, Ken!” a close friend shouted. “We need an outfielder. Come on down!” 

“Who, me?” I shouted back. “No way! I’ve never played baseball in my life. I would only embarrass myself.” My friend gave me a surprised look as the game continued, short an outfielder. Later, he approached me (let’s call him Tim). 

“What do you mean, you’ve never played baseball?” asked Tim. “Where have you been? I’ve seen you enjoy Dodger games on TV.” 

“It’s true,” I replied sheepishly. “I’ve never done any sports in my life.” I’m the oldest sibling, I had no older brother to introduce me to sports, and my father was already in his senior years by the time I was in grade school. So I focused on music and math but not sports. 

“Lame excuse,” said Tim as he handed me a mitt. “Catch!” He then tossed me a ball. What do I do? It was a clumsy effort but I managed to catch the ball. “Now toss it back to me,” said my new coach as he walked several feet away from me. 

My initial excursion into actually playing baseball was tentative but promising. “That’s it. You’re getting it. Way to go, Kenny!” I had to admit I was enjoying this impromptu game of catch. Then followed several afternoon coaching sessions when I learned how to throw the ball near and far, and how to catch it in several situations: long overhead flyball in the outfield; scooping catch at shortstop followed by a quick toss to first base; diving catch; you name it, I caught it. I was actually starting to get good! But then came batting lessons. 

I was a lousy hitter, or so I thought. Tim taught me the correct batting stance, and how to watch the pitcher and anticipate his pitch. Eye-hand coordination! The secrets of this sport that I only watched on TV were finally opening up to me! It wasn’t long before I started playing informal live games on our college field with other friends. I was having a grand time! 

I ended up as an outfielder, with centerfield as my favorite position. I developed a knack for catching a long flyball and tossing it back to an infielder just in the nick of time. As for batting, I never hit a homerun but I consistently sent fast choppers through that sweet spot between third and second, always forcing the shortstop to attempt a diving catch and missing. I always put the ball into play and generated a lot of RBIs. After a while, I noticed players on the opposing team would alter their positions slightly whenever I came up to bat. That sure felt good! I had a talent in baseball that I never knew I had, all because of friends who took the time to show me the ropes. Those skills have served me well throughout my life in parish and youth ministry situations whenever an informal baseball game was played. 

The upshot of my newfound skills is that I grew to love baseball even more. Being a player, I finally understood the nuances of the game and saw things I never noticed before when I simply watched on television: the double-play set-up; the need for the batter to run quickly and never dive into first base; the different kinds of pitches a skillful pitcher can employ; and the catcher’s signals to the pitcher to help him decide which pitch to throw: fastball, curveball, changeup, breaking ball, slider, etc.  And that aspect of the game is what is currently causing angst among baseball fans. 

Baseball is a game of inches and nuances. It’s a game of strategy in which the manager utilizes his players like a chess master; where the pitcher studies an opposing hitter’s stats and videos ahead of time so he can decide on the best pitch to get him out; and where the catcher, who has the best seat in the stadium, understands the flow of a game and calls the best sequence of pitches for the pitcher to throw. These catcher’s “signs” are essential in a traditional sport that is played in a loud stadium and does not use technology to transmit this essential strategy into player headsets. 

Naturally, sign stealing by the opposing team is going to give them an edge. If batters know in advance what pitch will be thrown to them then, of course, they will successfully fatten their batting average. The history of the game is littered with stories of teams who found ways to read the opposing team’s signs to give their hitters that edge. It’s not kosher; it’s cheating! And usually, cheating teams have been found out and penalized. 

In times past, cheating teams utilized their own system of counter-signs to convey pitch info to their batters. Fast forward to 2017. The Houston Astros, who had been in the cellar for several seasons, suddenly bounded into the playoffs. Their players’ batting averages were off the charts.

Now they were in the World Series, hitting their way to a championship by beating the red-hot Los Angeles Dodgers, who arguably had the best pitchers in baseball, including the amazing Clayton Kershaw. Followers of the game now know the reason for the Astros’ successful surge: they were cheating! They utilized technology and chutzpah to read their playoff opponents’ signs. A video camera was strategically hidden in centerfield, zooming in on the catcher as he discreetly signaled pitches to his pitcher. An Astro player studied the monitor and banged on a plastic trash can – a trash can! – to convey to his batter the pitch that was coming up: one bang for fastball; two bangs for curveball; no bang for changeup; etc. One of the enduring images of that World Series is a dejected Kershaw hanging his head low on the mound as yet another Houston homerun was batted against him. 

How low could a team go? Did the Astros think they could actually get away with this? They won the World Series; they had their dogpile on the infield after their last out and sprayed each other with champagne in the locker room; they had their victory parade through the streets of their city. To their credit, the dejected Dodgers returned to the World Series the following year against Boston, only to taste defeat again. Turns out the manager of the 2018 Red Sox was instrumental in setting up the Astros’ cheating technology when he served as a coach for the 2017 Astros. Hmmm. Can you smell the rats? 

No, the Astros and, apparently, the Red Sox could not get away with this. Thanks to a whistleblower, Major League Baseball conducted an investigation and found the Astros guilty of illegal use of technology. Justice was swift: Houston GM Jeff Luhnow and Manager A.J. Hinch were suspended, and the team’s owner subsequently fired them. The Astros were also fined $5 million, and they forfeited their first and second-round draft picks for the next two years. 

In a further development, Red Sox manager Alex Cora was also quickly fired, as was Carlos Beltran, the new manager of the New York Mets who, you guessed it, was a player for the 2017 cheating Astros. At this writing, MLB is still investigating the Red Sox. So discipline is being handed down against executive and managerial staff. Players have not been disciplined because of their cooperation in the investigation. 

Both the 2017 and 2018 postseason and World Series are damaged goods. Both the Astros and the Red Sox will have an asterisk next to their championship pennants and trophies. Those games cannot be replayed. It’s too late! Many of those players have either retired or were traded to other teams. Meanwhile, the Dodgers and their fans will always wonder “what if.” There is no guarantee that LA would have won the World Series in those two years but their opponents’ cheating certainly makes the outcome suspect. Careers are forever altered. Pitchers Yu Darvish (now playing for another team) and Clayton Kershaw have a reputation for always choking in the postseason. So does LA manager Dave Roberts. If they had won the World Series in both years, their careers and stats would have been revitalized. Sadly, it is now too late to do anything about it. 

Please understand that I am in no way, shape or form a Dodger fan, but I do believe that the integrity of the game is of utmost importance. What does it say to the youth of America when cheating is so callously used to win championships? I think of all those kids in Little League, those high school stars, those college and minor league standouts and, yes, those everyday batters and outfielders like me who played informal pickup games in parish and school fields across the land. 

Baseball is supposed to be fun. We build our memories of the game on our skills and our following the rules that ensure an honest outcome. If that integrity is compromised then baseball is a sham. Say it ain’t so!