The confidence Trent Grisham has in his strike-zone judgment is likely why his career on-base percentage is nearly 100 points above his batting average ... and also why he's been among the league leaders in called strike threes since becoming a regular with the Padres.
That said, the 25-year-old center fielder is actually of two minds as Major League Baseball barrels toward using so-called robo umps behind the plate.
"I like to think of myself as a little bit of a baseball purist," Grisham said. "I like the human element. I like the relationship with the umpires, talking to them about what's going on, what they see, the right and wrong of what I think a strike is and what they think a strike is.
"At the same time, it's hard to argue with knowing exactly what the strike zone is."
The topic was certainly of interest to Grisham after Nomar Mazara joined the big-league team earlier this month with first-hand experience with a number of rule experiments ongoing in the Pacific Coast League. Those range from the automated ball-and-strike system (ABS) to larger bases to the expanded use of a pitch clock that's shaved the average time of games at hitter-friendly El Paso from 3 hours, 13 minutes last year to 2:55 through the first 31 games at Southwest University Park.
With temperatures beginning to top 100 degrees this summer, that development alone appears to be a welcome endeavor by most, even by the offenders still getting used to 14 seconds between pitches with no one on base, 19 seconds with runners on and 30 seconds between hitters.
El Paso right-hander Jesse Scholtens, for instance, could only laugh in early May when 19 seconds ticked off the clock before he settled on a pitch with his catcher, resulting in one of five walks in the game.
"Initially, we were thinking, 'What the heck? There's a clock in baseball? What's going on?'" Scholtens said. "But as guys get used to it, they're starting to realize that you have a lot more time than it seems."
That's certainly been the case at times for catcher Brett Sullivan, who's taken to making sure his pitchers don't speed too quickly through the signs.
His point: Don't let the clock dictate the game.
"I'm really watching it a lot," Sullivan said, "because some pitchers have taken it the extreme of trying to be too quick. I'm watching and slowing them down. You still have 6 or 7 seconds left.
"Make your pitch."
As for ABS, Sullivan, like Grisham, is of two minds.
Of course, he is. Sullivan is a catcher who's spent years practicing pitch-framing, an art on the verge of extinction despite Commissioner Rob Manfred telling reporters last week that implementation wasn't imminent.
"There are difficult issues surrounding the strike zone that affect outcomes on the field," Manfred said, "and we need to make sure we understand those before jump off that bridge."
That said, observations of ABS last week in El Paso were so seamless that most fans in the stands still heckled the home plate umpire over the strike zone.
He still sucked. He still needed glasses. He was blowing the game, as always.
Only none of that was true.
The umpire was receiving the call instantaneously in an earpiece via Hawk-Eye cameras stationed around the ballpark and then delivering the call.
Any ball touching a two-dimensional, 19-inch-wide rectangle at the center of the plate (17 inches, plus the black on either side), adjustable to hitters' heights, was a strike and it was non-negotiable.
"(The other) night, the umpire turned around," El Paso manager Jared Sandberg said with a laugh, "'like, 'I'm not calling it. It's not me.'"
And it has nothing to do with Sullivan when he's behind the plate, either, for better or worse.
"For years and years, you work so hard in drill-work on receiving," Sullivan said, "making sure you're catching it right, setting up the right way to make sure you're earning that strike and now you essentially don't even have to catch it.
"That part is tough."
The flip side: His strike zone as a hitter is a constant, inning to inning, game to game. No more expanding the strike zone. No more missed calls. No more discussions.
For many, it's about time.
"I've always said it would be like asking NBA players when they're in L.A. to shoot into a hoop that's 10 feet high and then go to another city and its 10 feet, 2 inches," El Paso infielder Matt Batten said. "So hitting with a consistent strike zone has been awesome. Every night you walk in there, your strike zone is the same. You understand where it's getting called, what you need to work on. The consistency of it helps you get into a better rhythm."
Added Mazara: "I got to experience it a little bit and I was pretty comfortable because I knew (the pitcher) would have to come in at some point. When they don't it's going to be a ball. I was pretty confident with it when I was hitting."
Umpires providing instant feedback, via the earpiece, on pitches that hitters swing at is a plus, too. Teams also have tablets in the dugout to flag pitches they want ABS operators to take another look at as part of efforts to iron out the kinks of a technology not all that far away.
Human element be damned, Grisham will get on board.
"I like a good strike zone, too," he said.
