As professional pitchers learn their trade, there is probably a moment when a coach or a teammate teaches them the art of answering questions about apparent retaliation, because the same lines are uttered over and over. "I was just trying to pitch inside," generations of poker-faced hurlers have said. Or, "That one just got away from me."
Keone Kela spoke outside those long-established bounds the other day after he threw a fastball near the head of the Reds' Derek Dietrich, a pitch that eventually led to one of the nastiest fights of the summer. Kela was honest, saying, "The reason I went up and in was strictly, one, to show my intent with my pitch, and to pretty much let Dietrich know that I didn't necessarily agree with the way things went down.
"Of course, people could say it was overdue. At the end of the day, this is baseball. I have to protect my teammates, and I have to do what I feel is right. Not only that, you have to pitch in. That's part of this game. The day that we're not allowed to pitch in is the day that the game of baseball forever changes."
In being transparent, Kela provided commissioner Rob Manfred an opportunity to address the need for change regarding this one particular practice -- intentionally throwing pitches in the vicinity of a batter's head.
Reds manager David Bell has spent a lifetime in baseball, and as a third-generation major leaguer, he knows as much or more than anyone about traditions and unwritten rules. He was hit by pitches 44 times in his 12-year career, and probably a few of those were on purpose. He played for Tony La Russa, the Hall of Fame manager who strongly believed that there were times when pitchers had to retaliate in order to protect teammates. So it was striking to see Bell all but beg, after Tuesday's game, for somebody to step in and address this part of the baseball culture -- the idea that it's acceptable, at any time, to target a player at or near the head. Bell ran onto the field after he had been ejected the other day, and for that and for going after Pirates manager Clint Hurdle, he faces a major suspension.
But Bell's words undoubtedly resonated for the many in the sport who are increasingly uncomfortable with that very dangerous act. "He threw up at his head," Bell said about Kela. "It doesn't surprise us. It's been going on all year.
"I can't tell you how disappointing it is that it's still going on and nothing's been done about it. ... It's a shame that this is allowed, and they're able to get away with it.
"... It's dangerous. You can go on and on about so many things wrong about it. At some point, it's bigger than the game of baseball."
Over time, the perspective on this part of the game has shifted. The legends of Hall of Fame-caliber pitchers like Nolan Ryan, Bob Gibson, Don Drysdale and Roger Clemens are built partly on stories of them knocking down hitters. But in recent years, more players and front-office executives have wondered why this would ever be acceptable, given all of the information now available about the long-term impact of head injuries -- and the many examples of players whose lives were altered by a pitch to the face or head. Tony Conigliaro. Dickie Thon. David Wright. Giancarlo Stanton. The conversation about this type of pitch -- the intentional bean ball -- is changing in the way that we saw with catcher collisions and the purposeful slides into the legs of middle infielders.
Hitters are more outspoken than ever when a pitch is thrown near a batter's head -- especially when the perception is that it's done on purpose. Which is why Joey Votto stood in front of the Pirates dugout the other day, yelling at Kela in the half-inning before the brawl erupted.
Manfred can help to move the needle on this with his discipline of Kela. Based on precedent, Kela would probably get a suspension of eight to 10 games, but because of Kela's acknowledgment that the fastball that whizzed past Dietrich's head was meant as message, Manfred could ignore precedent to ignite a conversation with the players and their union about changing this particular play. Kela is like the rare case of a defendant who has effectively walked into a courtroom and told the jury that, yes, he committed the crime, with full intent, premeditation and malice.
Manfred could go outside of precedent and give Kela 12 games, or 15, or 20. Manfred could use that as an opening statement that moving forward, the practice of throwing at the head of a hitter will be more severely punished and treated much differently than intentionally drilling a batter in the legs or the butt.
Manfred could seize the high ground in the conversation by rendering that extraordinary suspension, while informing the union: "Look, we know you're going to challenge this decision, and based on precedent, you'll probably win the challenge and get the suspension reduced. But we need to work together to end this."
Bell is right. The act of throwing a baseball at a hitter's head is bigger than the game of baseball -- it's assault, moreso as players get stronger and throw harder than ever -- and when it happens, there needs to be a proportional response.