An eight and a half by eleven inch sheet of paper holds the key to every baseball game.
The art of scoring baseball games is credited to Henry Chadwick. The former sports writer started keeping notes of the game in 1859, and his model was the outline that was reworked over the years to the score keeping format statisticians know and love today.
There is a certain art form to keeping baseball statistics. Every statistician acts as a modern day Donatello, quietly crafting the picture of every game as their own Saint Mark. As the innings pile on the pencil wears down to a small nub, the paper becomes filled with a series of complex numbers and letters that did not quite make it into a J.J. Abrams movie.
But the true students of the game learn these numbers and letters as their third language. These students learn how to score a game from their own private tutors. All it takes for an average person to learn how to score is the dedicated tutelage of a parent, friend, or spouse.
Saying that scoring a baseball game requires a great deal of mental fortitude is an understatement. For two and a half hours, a scorer must keep track of every hit, every pitch, every out, and everything else that may or may not happen in baseball. Very few have the discipline to record these hieroglyphics, but everybody can learn how to.
The first and perhaps most important numbers in keeping score of a baseball game are the first nine numbers students recited in kindergarten. The numbers one through nine is the foundation of which score keeping is built upon. The numbers one through nine transcends languages, races, and generations alike. Without the first nine numbers, the language of baseball scoring becomes cuneiform.
In short, if you can count to nine, you can score a baseball game.
The first step of identifying baseball scoring is to learn which numbers correspond with which position. The list itself is short and simple. There is no real explanation as to why these positions are the numbers that they are, and the only man who could answer why has been slumbering in soil for more than 100 years.
The pitcher is number one. The catcher is number two. First base is number three. Second base is number four. Third base is number five. Shortstop is number six. Left field is number seven. Center field is number eight. Right field is number nine.
If a batter hits a ball on the ground to the second baseman and the shortstop throws to the first baseman the play is scored as a 4-3 groundout. The second baseman (4) fielded the ball and threw it to the first baseman (3) to get the out. Every out recorded in the infield is a combination of these numbers. It is possible for a hitter to ground out to an outfielder, but the runner will usually make it to first before the throw would get to first from the outfield. Plus if your team had a guy so slow that he got thrown out form the outfield, he would be considered an honorary Molina.
Double and triple plays are not much more complicated, just attach another number to the thread. If a runner is on first and the ball is hit to the shortstop, he will throw to second base, who will in turn throw to first. The thread of numbers would be crocheted into a 6-4-3 double play. The only added wrinkle to that thread in a triple play would be that there were two runners on base and the ball didn't touch the ground.
Once again, the various combinations of these numbers are what trip people up. Just remember, if you can count to nine, you will be fine.
As for when a batter hits a fly ball out, write the number of the position that catches the ball and draw a circle around it. That's it, nothing more, nothing less.
When a batter swings and misses at strike three, it is scored with a K. But when a batter gets embarrassed by a knee buckling curve ball and doesn't swing at strike three, the out is scored as a backwards K. Again, the only man who knows why these are scored the way they are has been worm food for quite some time.
Pitching statistics are far easier because they require simple addition. Hits, earned runs allowed, strikeouts, walks, home runs allowed, hit batsmen, are all added up at the end of a pitcher's workday. If a starting pitcher goes five innings or more, he can get the win. Any short of five innings he can either get a no decision or lose.
The rest of the stats on the diamond are cut down to quick little one, two, or three letter acronyms. Hitters start with AB (at bat), RBI (run batted in), 1B (single), 2B (double), 3B (triple), HR (home run), BB (walk), SO (strikeout). So it is a matter of simple memorization to learn how to score a game.
Every statistic in baseball is like one piece of a giant jigsaw puzzle. But like a thousand piece picture, there is a certain joy that comes from completing the scorecard. A elating feeling that carries over and compels people to score again.
Once again, the various combinations of these numbers are what trip people up. Just remember, if you can count to nine, you will be fine.
As for when a batter hits a fly ball out, write the number of the position that catches the ball and draw a circle around it. That's it, nothing more, nothing less.
When a batter swings and misses at strike three, it is scored with a K. But when a batter gets embarrassed by a knee buckling curve ball and doesn't swing at strike three, the out is scored as a backwards K. Again, the only man who knows why these are scored the way they are has been worm food for quite some time.
Pitching statistics are far easier because they require simple addition. Hits, earned runs allowed, strikeouts, walks, home runs allowed, hit batsmen, are all added up at the end of a pitcher's workday. If a starting pitcher goes five innings or more, he can get the win. Any short of five innings he can either get a no decision or lose.
The rest of the stats on the diamond are cut down to quick little one, two, or three letter acronyms. Hitters start with AB (at bat), RBI (run batted in), 1B (single), 2B (double), 3B (triple), HR (home run), BB (walk), SO (strikeout). So it is a matter of simple memorization to learn how to score a game.
Every statistic in baseball is like one piece of a giant jigsaw puzzle. But like a thousand piece picture, there is a certain joy that comes from completing the scorecard. A elating feeling that carries over and compels people to score again.
