Hall of Fame pitcher Warren Spahn once described baseball as “a game of failure,” noting that even the best batters are unsuccessful about 65% of the time.
On the evening of June 2, 2010, nobody on the Cleveland Indians roster succeeded in getting on base after a talented, young right-hander had taken the mound for the Detroit Tigers. With two outs in the ninth inning, Armando Galarraga had retired 26 batters and was on the verge of pitching the 21st perfect game in major league history and the first in the history of Detroit’s storied franchise.
But to err is human, and a split-second decision by a veteran umpire soon stole Galarraga’s moment of jubilation. While the controversial call a decade ago generated a perfect storm and denied the pitcher a place in the record books, the reaction to the outcome left a far more meaningful and enduring legacy.
The 27th batter for Cleveland was shortstop Jason Donald. Galarraga got Donald to ground a slow roller to first baseman Miguel Cabrera. The pitcher rushed to cover first, received the throw from Cabrera, and touched the bag. Galarraga briefly raised his arms in celebration before receiving the bad news.
Inexplicably, umpire Jim Joyce ruled that Donald was safe on the close play at first base. Replays showed clearly that Joyce blew the call: The runner was out by half a step.
Galarraga got the next hitter, outfielder Trevor Crowe, on a grounder to third base, ending the game, but “the call heard ‘round the world” was already generating headlines on sports networks, talk shows, and regular news broadcasts.
At first, outrage was the dominating theme. After the shock of the decision and the fury about its unfairness, the game without a perfect ending slowly but surely became a controversy with an almost flawless conclusion.
As the media coverage went on, there was a triple play of confession, redemption, and forgiveness.
The confession came almost immediately. A full-time umpire since 1989, a horrified Joyce admitted his mistake.
“I just cost that kid a perfect game,” Joyce said. “I thought [Donald] beat the throw. I was convinced he beat the throw until I saw the replay.”
While seething about the initial ruling, many gave Joyce a thumbs-up when he accepted responsibility for the error. Even though he had the option to skip the following game, Joyce showed up at the stadium ready to work despite the dust-up.
Equally admirable was Galarraga’s demeanor during the entire ordeal. In the seconds after Joyce made the infamous call, Galarraga can be seen smiling. He didn’t throw a tantrum or shout obscenities but handled himself with dignity and restraint.
The Detroit Tigers, and the Motor City crowd at the game the next afternoon, also rose to the occasion. Tigers manager Jim Leyland arranged for Galarraga to deliver the lineup card to the plate umpire to begin the day. The umpire who received it broke into tears. It was Jim Joyce. When he walked out of the tunnel on his way to the field, most fans stood and cheered.
The moment was startling. Although each of us craves total forgiveness after making mistakes, it is hard to accept the apology automatically when we have been wronged.
A decade after this series of events, we are navigating a pandemic so powerful that the 2020 baseball season remains in doubt. A great deal has changed in the last 10 years. The ability to forgive seems almost a quaint concept of a bygone era. Everybody on social media is swinging their rhetorical bat at others and endlessly airing grievances at umpires that may have wronged them.
It’s an exhausting and destructive game. We should stop keeping score when others fall short, and just forgive.
George Will said, “Baseball at its best puts good character on display in a context of cheerfulness.” Despite an obvious injustice, Armando Galarraga gave us plenty to smile about. While we can forgive him for still wanting credit for a spotless game, the young pitcher achieved something far more special than a baseball record. His kind disposition provided a perfect ending to an imperfect situation and left an example for the rest of us to follow.
Kendall Wingrove is a freelance writer from Okemos, Michigan.
