Clutch 06-2016: Time Out

From a scheduling perspective Major League Baseball is brutal, I’ll give you that. Teams play non-stop six days a week from around April fool’s day until the beginning of autumn and beyond for those lucky enough to make the playoffs. That’s a long run for anybody. And don’t forget that spring training, though typically “Light” work backs the start of the schedule up to Valentine’s Day.

Players, coaches and staff are typically separated from their family and friends for two-thirds of the year. Imagine the morning of packing your lunch box, grabbing your brief case, kissing your wife and kids goodbye and instead of saying “See you for dinner”, it’s more like “Have a great spring and summer”. The life is not for everyone that’s for sure, though for most in the profession it’s all they know.

Some players, like Clutch acquaintance A.J. Burnett, couldn’t wait to retire and totally leave the game behind. A.J. threw his last pitch down the playoff stretch last season, and now spends his days fishing and taking his young kids to/from school and activities. Sure he’ll get bored of that at some point, and he still has a long life to live, way longer than most “Retirees”, but I’m sure he’ll find something to do that doesn’t involve an eight month road trip.

Others, like the stereotypical coach with the grey hair, beer gut and waddle-type walk can’t leave the game, or really what has become a lifestyle.  Some started in their teens and now have 40+ years under the belt of the baseball circuit. Enough miles to book a free trip to Mars, and enough missed weddings and funerals to fill a shoebox of lost memories. Though these guys are continuing to do what they love, the fact of the matter is that they are likely institutionalized. They don’t know another way, and can’t imagine not waking up in a Ramada Inn with a complimentary USA Today, day-old pastries and concentrated OJ out of machine for breakfast, and alas the smell of freshly cut grass and the sounds of batting practice a few short hours away. Just look up the character Brooks from “The Shawshank Redemption” if you don’t know what I mean.

OK, before we start feeling really bad for these people, let’s remember a couple of things. For starters, most of them are incredibly wealthy and own homes larger than the Governor’s mansion in their home state. They have cars, toys, cars that are like toys and the works. The financial future of their family and families family is secured and on and on. Oh, and one more thing...They get paid to play a kids game.  That’s right; the thing we did for free growing up now pays the bills. Does anyone recall doing what they do now when they were nine years old and loving it?

Anyhow, the discussion point here is actually around the concept of the player day off.  Though it’s understood that the older a player gets, the more the body and stamina abilities break down, the need for a day off in baseball just seems odd. The fact that a finely tuned athlete needs a day to recover from playing a game, or “Working” doesn’t seem like a far-fetched request, but it kind of is when you break down how hard these guys actually work on a day in and day out basis.

Again, and before getting into the numbers, the equator style line graph of age versus abilities is out there. The natural breakdown over time is understood. But, to give an example at the early end of that spectrum, Mr. Clutch was (and somewhat still could be today) a star softball player back in the day. I’m talking top-notch talent here, and yes I know that comparing the major leagues to slow-pitch softball is like comparing playing in the Masters to miniature golf. That said, Clutch in his heyday would play a Sunday morning 8am doubleheader in a Brooklyn hard-top league, and then play a late afternoon doubleheader in an all Jewish dirt league (and you got it, our first baseman was names Ira). In between would be around three-hours of non-stop wifflle-ball in the blazing sun. All of this was done without breaking a sweat or pulling a hammy.

OK – back to the life of a major league everyday position player. Let’s take a left-fielder and an average game time of three hours for the purpose of this example. We’ll also assume that in an average game, half the time is spent in the field, and half at bat. Lastly, we will assume that the player in question is a “Good” player, meaning he gets on base fairly regularly and catches most balls that come his way.

Let’s start with the field. That player will likely have 10 to 15 balls hit to him in a game. This includes flyouts, base hits he needs to retrieve, backing up the center fielder, etc. A “Play” typically takes 30 seconds from crack of the bat to back into position.  That’s seven and half minutes of “Work”, which we will round up to eight, and 82 minutes of standing around doing nothing.

On offense, a player is likely to bat five times in a game, and that’s pretty generous.  Two minutes per at bat, with on an average day that player reaches base twice, also generous values. Time running  the bases can vary, including standing on the any base, but the math says it’s around six minutes. Tally all that up and in an average game, a player will be “Working” offensively for around 22 minutes a game. The rest of the time is spent sitting down eating sunflower seeds and high-fiving coworkers.

Math, which never lies, states that a major league player “Works” for around 30 minutes or a half an hour a day.  Not a bad gig if you can get it, and certainly why the “Scheduled day off” is a bit of a joke. I’m sure the average Joe working as an accountant would like this benefit. Work a little harder than normal on a Tuesday and your manager decides to rest you on Wednesday so you’re fresh the next day. Primidonnas.