Congratulations to T. LaRussa, who in the off-season, will guide the St.L Rams to a wild card birth on the last day of the season, by having S. Bradford kicking an eighty-four yard field goal as time expires.

Then in an upset, the Rams beat N.O. Saints by a score of 35-28 where T. LaRussa came out to the field and changed the QB six times in the 4th quarter. After the two-minute warning.

To further his legacy, the Rams beat N.Y. Giants by the score of 6-3, where the phone from booth to the sideline did not work, but S. Bradford and T. LaRussa was able to use 2 empty Campbell soup can and a string to communicate.

In a game, where St.L Rams was an underdog by 35 1/2 points, the might GB Packers lost, by the score of 8-3; when asked, T. LaRussa said: "We went for two, because we didn't think squeezing on 4th down was an option."

In the biggest mismatch since Joseph Stalin and What-is-his-name, the Rams, a 49 1/2 points underdog to the NE Patriots, won the game 4-3 to cap off an improbable run.

<I Play the Fred> I dunno. The strike zone is three-dimensional, and must be judged not just on height and width but upon the position of the ball as it crosses the plate. The zone also varies from batter to batter; would the machine have to be recalibrated for each new hitter? And what happens when the hitter changes his stance during an at-bat, crouching or standing straighter depending on circumstances?

This makes a difference from electronic line judges in tennis, which are making their "judgments" based on fixed points in space. On the other hand, they are universally accepted without complaint--right, JB?

I suspect what you're asking for is consistency, for an umpire to call the same pitch the same way for both teams. It certainly seems like prejudice occurs, but incomplete anecdotal evidence can be misleading. If we think that Carpenter is favored, we expect him to be favored and focus on the minority of incidents where this seems to happen.

I'm not saying Carpenter was favored per se, but judging by the Fox Box, the same pitch Feldman threw for a ball four RBI was called a strike in the next half-inning. That wasn't my eyes saying so, that wasn't my rooting interest saying so, that's just what the Box showed. I'm certain that the Box isn't the best tool for this task, but it's a hell of a lot more accurate than human eyes. Human eyes which tire and are affected by the brain behind them, which may be influenced by the man on the hill, the managers in their dugouts, or the 30,000 screaming fans.

We have other tools to help get the games right. We have foul lines. We have yellow lines on high-rise walls. We have replay. Why not this?

Yes, I am angry that the Rangers lost - they should have closed them out in game six - but I'm really angry that two runs which shouldn't have scored did score.

How about a machine that just calls balls inside or outside, and leaving high and low to the umps? Would make it easier.

Molina walked, scoring a run, on a ball that was exactly where the previous "strike" had been thrown. Molina had started toward first on the previous pitch, and both were close, and I think the ump didn't have the nerve to call the second one a strike. It also may have made some difference that Molina is the catcher, and he and the ump are side by side for half the game.

I do believe pitchers (such as Glavine) who are known for good control, and typically don't throw really hard, often get the breaks on close pitches. Greg Maddux seemed to get an awful lot of calls.

In the same way batters who are considered to have a good eye don't seem to have as many strikes called against them, especially strike three. In his big years it seemed Wade Boggs could let any close strike two pitch go by and would rarely be called out.

The umpire was Ed Runge, and as I remember no pitch was too far outside, or too low. (At that time the strike zone was "bottom of the knees.") The pitchers and catchers caught on early (Joe Torre heard Runge tell Yastrzemski, "that's my strike zone," and started putting his target farther outside). It was also a twilight game starting at 5 p.m. in Anaheim, so vision was tough for the hitters.

Then again, the NL lineup didn't have many real good hitters that year: Brock, Clemente, Aaron, Cepeda, Allen and Torre, with Mays and Rose on the bench.

I suspect that game, along with the entire '68 season of course, had a lot to do with changing the strike zone and lowering the mound in 1969.

Reminds me of a funny story, possibly just an urban legend.

Ted Williams took a pitch, the ump called it a ball. Catcher return the ball to the pitcher and ask the ump how that was a ball?