Chem 101

It's a funny thing about chemistry. In the real world, it's a science. In the sports world, it's about as far from being a science as you can possibly get. Its workings are intangible, its effects are unquantifiable. And yet, sportswriters--particularly baseball writers--argue time and time again that it's an essential ingredient for a successful team.


Now, make no mistake--this is incorrect. Almost every action in baseball requires zero-to-minimal chemistry, because it requires zero-to-minimal interaction with your teammates. Hitting is individual. Fielding is individual (sure, you have to toss the ball to your teammate for a putout, but...come on). Pitching involves some sense of a bond between pitcher and catcher, but much of what determines success or failure comes down to whether or not the pitcher, all on his own, throws a good pitch. If the left fielder and first baseman hate each other, things will be fine. Even if the pitcher and catcher hate each other, things will probably be fine.


And yet, even when it does come to something as simple as two players throwing the ball to each other, writers insist that there's some element of chemistry that affects the outcome. Today's example comes from Peter Abraham of Boston.com, and you can just sense the fact that he was handed an assignment he didn't believe in and didn't want to write:


"Scutaro, Pedroia, and the rest of the Red Sox enjoyed their only day off of spring training yesterday. For the two infielders, that meant a break from taking countless ground balls and refining their on-field partnership.

Tentative at first, they now exchange the ball like two basketball players on a fast break. Pedroia spins, Scutaro dips, each knowing what the other will do before it happens."


It must be Pedroia's strong baseball instincts that allows him to know, BEFORE IT EVEN HAPPENS, that Marco Scutaro will catch the ball when he throws it.


To be fair, double plays do involve positioning, footwork, etc., and I have no doubt that Scutaro and Pedroia can anticipate their partner's moves before he makes them. But isn't that because every team in professional and amateur baseball runs that play basically the same way? This isn't football; there's no tea playbook that Marco Scutaro needs to learn when switching teams, at least not when it comes to turning the DP. As excited as Peter Abraham (or Peter Abraham's editors) seem to be about the budding chemistry between Scutaro and Pedroia, if Scutaro simply closes his eyes and pretends that Pedroia is Aaron Hill, he'll do fine. 

"From afar, the choreography of a double play seems impossibly intricate as the ball arrives at the bag at the precise second needed to complete the turn. But both Pedroia and Scutaro say it’s not as complicated as fans would think or as time-consuming to master.

'You get that question a lot: What is the chemistry going to be like?’' said Pedroia. 'Everybody wants to know that. But when you get two good players, it comes fast.'"


I think it's fair to summarize this quote as, "We get this question a lot, but it's really no big deal." When the people you're quoting are basically telling you not to write your article, I think it's time to find a new topic.


EDIT: It's a good thing that Tinker, Evers and Chance, the most famous double-play combination of all time, had such great chemistry.