Splendid Failure

Inspired by events in June and November, 2010

SPLENDID FAILURE

Twice in recent months athletes have flirted with perfection only to fall short by the slightest of margins. Most likely there were more, but these two lay claim to my devotion so their flirtation was all the more beguiling.

In the dog days of summer, the boys of summer were playing those games that don’t seem to matter, except as pleasant summer diversions. My beloved Tigers were playing the O’s. Armondo Galarraga was pitching for the Tigers. His career prior to this day had been unremarkable, but for this one day he was – Perfect! Perfect in fact for 8 and 2/3 innings. No runs, no hits, no errors. Until two out in the ninth, the ball hit sharply to the hole between first and second. A routine play that every pitcher and first baseman practice a thousand times, and in textbook fashion they executed flawlessly. Galarraga covered the bag as Cabrera pulled from first, fielded cleanly, threw accurately, Galarraga caught easily, foot on the bag, runner out, PERFECT! Until first base umpire Jim Joyce shouted, “SAFE”!

He blew the call. It is common for fans to say they were robbed so let me be clear. Everyone agrees Joyce blew the call, EVERYONE including Joyce himself. He would later apologize amidst tears, but there is no instant replay in baseball, the commissioner would not review the play, the call of an official on the field is immutable. There was no perfect game.

And then, the fabulous filly, the magnificent mare, the Great Zenyatta, the undefeated thoroughbred was set to run her final race, at the shrine of thoroughbred racing, in the biggest race of the year, against the toughest field she ever faced. In nineteen prior starts, Queen Z was perfect. In nineteen prior races she fell immediately to the back of the pack, toying with lesser horses, only to dash their hopes in the final stretch. When the field begins to tire after a mile or so, Zenyatta always finds another gear that propels her past the leader in the nick of time. Always, until this time. She passed them all, save one. There was no blown call, no injustice, no one to blame, except Blame. Zenyatta, like Galarraga, was only nearly perfect.

But such splendid failures. 

True perfection is extremely rare. Rocky Marciano retired as the Heavyweight champion of the world a perfect 49-0. During the 76 Olympics Nadia Comaneci was six times awarded a perfect score. The 72 dolphins won every game, completing the only NFL perfect season with a Superbowl win. And from 71-73 the UCLA men’s basketball team was perfect for an amazing 88 game winning streak.

Perfect! Really? Rocky wasn’t perfect; he simply retired before he lost. Comaneci wasn’t perfect; she was simply awarded the highest attainable score. During their “perfect” season the Dolphins still fumbled, dropped passes and missed tackles. Likewise, UCLA missed shots, committed fouls, and allowed opponents to score. All their feats were amazing, but perfect? 

No!

Perfection amongst mortals is not rare; it is unattainable. A worthy impossible goal that allows us, even in falling short, to be splendid failures. 

Still, I confess both events left me greatly disappointed. Writing these words is an attempt to temper my heartbreak. It helps a little. What’s wanted is perspective. I remember Armondo’s immediate reaction. He smiled. I have little doubt he was disappointed, but he smiled. Later, when the imperfect umpire was nearly inconsolable for his error, Armondo offered his hand and another smile. It is more difficult to discern Zenyatta’s reaction. Her ears were pricked, her head was high, and she still strutted and danced. She seemed to care less than I did. No doubt, she was confused to be led her stable and not the Winner’s Circle, but I like to think her only thought was, “goodness, that boy is fast”!

Both days were followed by the next and a resplendent sunrise. Perhaps it was the Creator’s way of saying “Behold perfection”!

© 2019 Joseph E. Fountain

All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So, I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible. ~ William Faulkner

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