I recently posted the following on a message board that I frequent:
I have already asked a few AL fans this question, and they were unable to refute the implication:
Will someone please explain how the designated hitter rule isn't, at worst, cheating, and, at best, cheap, unsportmanlike, weak, lame and complete bulls#$t ?
The pitcher doesn't hit? Someone please tell what isn't weak and/or cheap about this. Please?
I will be happy to address and/or accept any thoughtful and/or intelligent response(s) to this query.
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I got some support for the anti-DH position, and then a couple of relatively thoughtful, but still unconvincing replies about how watching pitchers hit is boring, and there is more offense so it's more exciting, etc. I concluded my casual study of the issue with:
"Baseball is simply a better game without the DH. " - Sports Announcer Bob Costas
"I believe in the soul ... the small of a woman's back, the hanging curveball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter." - Crash Davis (Kevin Costner) in Bull Durham (1988)
"I don't like the designated hitter. A guy who plays should be able to catch and hit." - Former Reds Owner Marge Schott
"I don't think our fans are the least bit interested in seeing the DH be part of the National League landscape." - Chicago Cubs President Andy MacPhail
"When teams decide to get rid of unwanted players, they are designated for assignment. Now it's time to designate the DH. Assign it to baseball's scrap heap - a bad idea whose time is over." - Hal Bock of the Associated Press
"It's 30 years down the DH highway, and this rule makes even less sense now than it did in 1973 — if that's possible. Here are five reasons baseball should abolish this abomination now (by Jayson Stark in ESPN.com on April 4, 2003):
1. Once, it was at least slightly intriguing to have two leagues playing the same sport using different rules. Now, with interleague play, it's not intriguing anymore. It's absurd.
2. Let's take that one step further. The DH rule may have cost the Giants the World Series. This was a team constructed around its bullpen, not its spare bench parts. So Dusty Baker essentially had no DH. In fact, his Game 7 DH — Pedro Feliz — was a guy who had made it through the first six games without an at-bat. No other sport would tolerate a situation this farcical.
3. The idea 30 years ago was that the DH would allow some beloved older hitters to extend their careers once they could no longer play the field. Whatever happened to that brainstorm? All these beloved older hitters DH'd Opening Day: Ken Harvey, Al Martin, Jeremy Giambi, Matt LeCroy and Josh Phelps. Face it: The DH is now just an excuse to be one-dimensional.
4. The only reason to have a DH rule is that fans allegedly like more offense. Obviously, DHs are better hitters than pitchers. But how much more offense does this rule really generate? The average AL team scored one more run every three games than the average NL team last year — and got one more hit every four games. So we're talking about two extra runs a week. That'll pack 'em in, all right.
5. Finally, the game is simply way more interesting without the DH than with it. Period. Ask any manager which is more strategically challenging — managing a game under NL rules or AL rules. It's no contest. It's baseball's cerebral side that separates it from all the other games ever invented. And the game is way more cerebral with no DH than with it. That's one thing that hasn't changed in 30 years — and never will.
"I screwed up the game of baseball. Baseball needed a jolt of offense for attendance, so they decided on the DH. I never thought it would last this long." - Ron Blomberg [the first DH ever] in The Journal News (April 5, 2003)
"Some changes in baseball — such as interleague play on a limited basis, or a thoughtful realignment — make perfect sense. Others — artificial turf, wild-card teams in the playoffs — make sense only to the baseball-impaired. Then, there is the designated hitter. It's an idea not without merit and one which used to make sense — for the American League, at least. In the early 1970s, baseball faced a crisis of popularity. The American League was especially hurting because of the disappearance of the Yankee dynasty and its slowness in signing black and Latin stars. That left the National League with a disproportionate number of the game's best and most exciting players. In addition, offense was at its lowest point in generations. In 1968, the entire American League hit .230. Carl Yastrzemski won the batting title with a .301 average. Some 20% of all games in the major leagues that year were shutouts. Clearly, something had to be done to juice the offense and to distinguish the American League from the National in an interesting way. The designated hitter was a logical response and it had some real benefits. It helped increase run production — the league batting average jumped from .239 in 1972 (pre-DH) to .259 in 1973 (first year of DH) — and it extended the careers of some popular players. Now, except for enabling veterans such as Minnesota's Paul Molitor to continue playing, none of the other conditions apply any more. Everyone knows the offense has gone through the roof in every measurable way. If anything, the balance needs to be tipped back in the other direction. With its new ballparks and exciting young stars, the American League no longer needs gimmickry to distinguish itself from the senior circuit. The disadvantages that were always present with the DH now tip the balance the other way. One of those disadvantages was highlighted recently by the ugly beanball incidents at Yankee Stadium and in Kansas City. Almost to a man, baseball people believe these situations would occur less frequently if the pitcher had to bat and face the prospect of retaliation. More importantly, the loss of strategy and the over-emphasis on power at the expense of some of the game's subtleties is simply too great a price to pay for the advantages of the DH. Beside, anyone who has so short an attention span and so little appreciation for baseball that he can't bear to watch a pitcher bat is probably beyond hope, anyway. The fact is the National League plays a more interesting game. The American League should try it, too." - Bob Costas in USA Today Baseball Weekly
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Thanks you guys for the thoughtful replies. I know the details of the rule, how and why it exists, etc., but nothing I've heard or seen has yet convinced me that it's anything but weak, lame, and borderline cheating.
On the sandlot, does everyone hit? It's baseball, everyone on the team goes to bat.
It's probably the very most basic concept of the game, except for maybe '3 strikes you're out.'
I uphold that the DH is for sissies.
And I will still be happy to address and/or accept any thoughtful and/or intelligent response(s) to this query.