by Bob Carson

Editor’s Note: The USTA website is pleased to present freelance writer Bob Carson and his popular “Outside the Box” features. This monthly series is a menu of outlandish proposals presented with a wink — but the purpose behind them is serious. The views contained in this column are that of the author alone, and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of the United States Trotting Association.

Bob Carson

Major League umpire Clarence “Brick” Owens had a rough day behind the plate on the afternoon of June 23, 1917. The Boston Red Sox pitcher, a burly right-hander named Babe Ruth, opened the game in Fenway Park by walking the first batter on four straight balls. The young hurler believed two of the pitches were strikes and charged the umpire yelling a string of profanities and questioning the umpire’s sobriety.

Brick Owens did not appreciate the impertinence and barked at Ruth to, “Shut up and get back on the mound or I will throw you out of the game.”

Ruth growled, “Throw me out and I’ll punch ya right in the jaw.”

Both were men of their word. Owens threw Ruth out. Ruth flattened Owens.

Owens was familiar with being attacked. In fact, his nickname, Brick, came from a game in Pittsburgh in 1903 when displeased fans pelted him with bricks, one of which struck him squarely in the back of his head. Another time a group of irate fans began to pummel Owens; a police officer trying to intervene had his finger bitten off in the melee. Once Brick called three strikes on a batter ending a ninth inning rally; the batter attacked Brick and as they grappled, a fan ran onto the field, picked up the bat and smashed it against Brick’s skull (this actually worked out well because the father of the fan who swung the bat paid Brick $750 not to press charges, more than the beleaguered Brick earned during an entire season).

Autumn Ryan graphic

Many of us can relate to Brick Owens. If you have ever found yourself in the land of administering sporting discipline, you know the terrain is rocky.

Should you have called a foot-fault when a tennis shoe touches the service line by a smidgen, should you have penalized a golfer for slightly replacing a ball incorrectly on the green, should you have removed a player from a team for cheating or unacceptable conduct — you know there is heartache. The penalized and the person who imposes the penalty both suffer. Voices will be raised, tears will be shed, nights will be sleepless, lawsuits will be filed, money will be lost and feelings will be hurt.

Difficult decisions of this ilk are infinitely more agonizing when you know (and often like) the accused. Try tossing a player off the team and then run into his friends and relatives at the local coffee shop. Believe me, these people will view your judgment through a different lens.

Disqualify a popular harness race driver for going inside a pylon or dropping a foot and your next stroll down the backstretch will not be a walk in the park.

The following are a pair of suggestions that could offer respite from the grey areas and the often hard rules of our game. They offer the chance to make us stronger. They offer a chance to economize.

If you have noticed fewer tantrums ala Babe and Brick in Major League baseball, this is because many situations that may be unclear on the diamond are now decided in some distant video room, monitored by a small staff of experts. The original call on the field was safe, but did the base runner touch the first base bag? One team objects and then the umpires move off the field and wait while a judgment is rendered a few moments later. Perfect? Nothing is perfect, but no one can refute that the baseball world has greatly improved the number of correct calls and greatly eliminated complaining. Fans like the new system.

Why don’t we do this in harness racing? Create one central office where judges monitor video feeds, follow one set of rules, make quick and final decisions. This impartial, distant panel would eliminate expense. On-track racing decisions that are in dispute could immediately be appealed to a panel that has the goal of making the correct call.

In fact, and this is important, because trainers and drivers dislike calling fouls on fellow competitors, those distant and anonymous judges can “buzz in” on their own immediately after any race should they see a problem the local folks miss in the race. Professional football is starting down this road and “the booth” basically takes over several parts of the final few minutes of a game.

Another quagmire of unnecessary duplication would seem to be drug testing. Why does our sport have a spectrum of testing outfits, procedures, levels and equipment? Would it not be more reasonable and cost effective to have one top quality laboratory, with state-of-the-art equipment and staffs that are constantly fighting this ugly and necessary battle?

In a centralized, autonomous facility, testing would take place quickly, prior to purse disbursal. If a test is bad, the problem is quickly reported from this top-of-the-line testing factory. Using one super lab, the limits and penalties would be clear and uniform. Complaints would decrease and compliance would increase.

A panel of digital racing judges and a super-test laboratory are not just for the moment — they are for the future. Innovation is more likely. When the next scourge of substance X hits the backstretch, our lab can get right to work on a new test. After the test is ready, one new piece of equipment is all we need.

Participants in our sport often complain about not having a level playing field. People in these super labs or highly sophisticated video rooms will not have axes to grind; they will not be guided by fear of retribution or ennui. They have one mission — get the job done fairly and correctly.

We have the benefit of technology that previous generations of horse racing could not dream of — and we should utilize these new developments. Digital judges would always be improving camera feeds and communication to trainers and drivers.

Laboratories would have a chance to use science and act quickly. The complex human element of regulation would be lessened.

In the real world, when solutions that save money and improve the product are introduced, businesses fall over each other to put them in play. Fiefdoms that resist constructive retrofitting that only protects a fading status quo are soon marginalized.

Big brother is here; he is watching sports with a careful eye. For horse racing, this may be a very good thing. No doubt, good old “Brick” Owens would have been saved many a thrashing if his calls were subject to review using modern technology.