It's easy to read the rules, even if they aren't written

A couple of baseball players made headlines this week while yelling at other players, assaulting them with baseballs, or just creating controversy in general. Much was made of both ordeals on their respective radio broadcasts and subsequent sports talk shows, but everything boiled down to that always mythical “unwritten code” of baseball.

After almost two decades of being the sparkplug/go-getter/person most likely to incite a brawl on whatever team I play for, I feel qualified to delve into the topic of things that should or shouldn’t happen as it pertains to baseball’s code of conduct. While things seem to have blown over, more or less, in both situations, I think that there were some egregious errors made on the parts of players and front office personnel alike that the old guard of baseball simply wouldn’t stand for.

First off, let’s head out west to the Saturday night game between the Rockies and Braves.

Major League Baseball’s favorite quadragenarian Jamie Moyer was staked to an early lead, then watched it slip away as the Braves treated his dazzling array of 79 mph fastballs, 78 mph curves and 77 mph change ups like the batting practice pitches that they usually are.

Perhaps refusing to face his own baseball mortality, Moyer suspected that Atlanta was stealing signs and said as much to real-life “Operation!” game board Chipper Jones. The accusation was less than well-received and the two exchanged some heated words on the field.

But this isn’t the controversy. Words and insults fly all of the time. That’s just part of the game. What isn’t part of the game is what happened… well… after the game.

Asked what was going on between himself and Moyer, Jones took a flying leap over the line of baseball decorum. Not only did he rehash the sign stealing discussion, but then spent the next two minutes ripping on Moyer, his unique brand of pitching and even hypothesized that Moyer might just be paranoid since he’s been on teams that were accused of cheating. That’s a no-no, and I would expect better from a guy who has spent nearly two decades in MLB.

I think that Chipper and the Braves probably didn’t do anything to Moyer. Even if they did, Moyer only accused them of relaying signs – something that isn’t illegal. Still, to turn an on-field dispute into a big locker room chest thumping contest is a stupid move on Chipper’s part.

If you want to say that a guy was acting out on the field, fine. If you want to call him an idiot or classless, ok. But you can’t insult a fellow professional athlete’s abilities while speaking on the record. It’s no secret that Moyer is a soft-throwing guy and that his best years came almost two US presidents ago. That’s still no grounds for calling a guy out on camera. With Moyer remaining as one of only a few active players that were on their second contract before Chipper’s debut, you would think there would be some respect for your elders.

If Chipper wants to have it out with Moyer, that’s fine. If he really wants to follow through on his offer to meet up with him in a hallway to “settle their differences”, I think we could all get behind it and sell the fight as a $39.99, grandpa-on-grandpa violence Pay-Per-View event.

Ironically, it was Chipper’s own age and fading baseball abilities that kept this from getting even more out of hand. A day after publically trashing Moyer and the Rockies on the air to millions of television sets and radios, if the Braves had dared to put Jones in the lineup for the series finale, there is little doubt that he would have been drilled at least once. Instead, Chipper’s ailing knees kept him out of action and, possibly, out of the crosshairs.

Kind of funny when you think about it. Usually, it’s the pitchers that get away with doing and saying what they please since they only bat once or twice per game and usually only make one appearance per series. Chipper avoided any confrontation for now, but if he and the Braves are still going strong in September when a big four-game series with the Rockies rolls around, it will be interesting to see if Colorado remembers those not so kind words way back in May.

The next night, millions of viewers nationwide watched as on-field altercations turned a bit more physical. In an example of the unwritten rules of baseball working as they have for over a century, things on the field played out exactly as they should have while everything else helped to blow the story out of proportion.

After Cole Hamels beaned all-everything rookie and squirrel pelt hair style enthusiast Bryce Harper in the first inning of the Phillies and Nationals’ Sunday night game, there was little doubt as to what had happened. Harper has been the talk of the baseball world for over three years, racking up almost as many magazine articles as he had examples of acting like an entitled brat.

After seven games in the show, Harper had sufficiently restrained himself from doing anything too stupid at the major league level, but obviously had not impressed Hamels much.

With his first pitch in the first of what is likely to be many showdowns between the two, Hamels reared back and, without provocation, sent a 93 mph welcome letter to Harper’s back.

And thus, the cycle was set in motion.

Everyone in both of those dugouts knew exactly what had just happened. Harper, like countless hotshot rookies before, had to endure the price of the fame that he hadn’t quite earned yet.

But here’s the thing. Instead of staring down Hamels or getting into a shouting match with someone, Harper knew exactly how to handle things. He ducked his head, trotted to first, then hustled his ass off – going first to third on a single and timing a pickoff move perfectly in stealing home – to make Hamels pay for giving him a free base.

Likewise, Harper’s teammates settled the score for their rookie. When Hamels came to bat later in the game, Jordan Zimmermann plugged him in the leg.

And that was that. Hamels had made his statement, Harper took it in stride, Zimmermann got his team justice, and then both side let the issue die.

Too bad the rest of the world couldn’t leave it at that.

As soon as the game was over, reporters fell all over each other to question Hamels and Harper on the incident that, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t really an incident at all. When Hamels finally admitted to hitting Harper on purpose – a dumb move, even if it was honest – you would have thought that the teams were getting ready to start World War III.

No less than 20 MLB Network and ESPN analysts felt obliged to give their views on the beanball. Nationals GM Mike Rizzo climbed up on his high horse and somehow turned a fastball to the back into “The most gutless, chickenshit thing I’ve seen in my 30 years in baseball.”

The great thing about those unwritten rules is that, while invisible, they are exact and concise. While talking heads drone on with the hyperbole of Hamels’ actions being “malicious” and “totally unwarranted” and even “possibly deadly”, the two teams abided by the code and came to the quick and efficient conclusion.

Hamels was mocked by many for stating that he was a fan of old-school baseball and that that mentality had led him to plunk Harper, but what played out last Sunday was a perfect example, from both teams, on how the game should be played.

Hamels and the Phillies wanted to intimidate, the Nationals realized it, accepted it, then retaliated. Both teams were satisfied, there was no fighting or posturing, and none of the beanballs were aimed at anyone’s head.

Maybe if the media could step away from its righteous indignation for a few seconds, they could catch a good, old fashioned baseball game once in a while.