If super-agent Scott Boras gets his way, there will soon be another statistical column on the back of your baseball cards.
It’s the “E.P.” It has nothing to do with how many Elvis Presley records the player owns, or with Eating Pizza. Rather, it means “Exceptional Play.” According to Boras, the fans need a specific number with which to identify defensive brilliance.
Fielding percentage has been around forever, but it doesn’t really separate the great fielders from the merely average. In fact, many below average defenders have high fielding percentages because they never get close enough to field the ball in the first place. No touch, no error.
The official scorer would be entrusted to distinguish between an average play and an exceptional one, and there would be an E.P. column on the scoresheet filed with the league to record every one. At the end of the season, you’d be able to look at errors along with E.P.’s, and presumably know who the really outstanding fielders actually were.
As a former official scorer in Baltimore, I can tell you there are some batted balls that produce defensive plays that start off with something exceptional — and finish with an error. Batter hits a ball deep in the hole at short, shortstop ranges far to his right, gloves it, his momentum forces him to spin completely around. He throws the ball toward first in time to retire the runner, but throws it high, wide or in the dirt. What started as an E.P. finishes as an E-6. Can a player earn both on the same play? That’s not clear, though I suspect Boras would say yes.
It’s been rare for the Hall of Fame to recognize defensive brilliance, but clearly, Ozzie Smith and Bill Mazeroski didn’t get in with their bat skills alone. The ability to produce offense seems to override almost everything else in the public’s perception of the game, but shouldn’t the skill to keep the other team from getting on base count almost as much?
Ryan Zimmerman has had several games at third base since he arrived that remind more than a few observers of Brooks Robinson. His instincts in the field are remarkable, and he’ll likely win a few a Gold Gloves before he hangs up his cleats. The Gold Glove, however, isn’t based on any specific number; it’s determined by a vote. The addition of the E.P. might be a useful tool for the electorate in the future.
There have been attempts in recent years to more easily quantify fielding prowess, but the average fan in the stands doesn’t really comprehend things like “zone ratings” and “range factor.” A double-digit E.P. number would mean something instantly. It would also provide a curtain call of sorts for the fielder. The scoreboard always flashes the official scorer’s ruling of “hit” or “error;” putting “E.P.” on the board would generate another round of applause.
However reluctant you may be to ever let Scott Boras get his way, he may be on to something that would enhance everyone’s grasp of the game. Sure, it will also help his client’s earning potential, but he usually gets his way anyway, doesn’t he?
