Once upon a time there was a hotly-contested World Series in which the two teams were so marvelously inept that a full ninety percent of the runs were scored on errors. In the seventh and deciding game, the American league team cobbled together a run in the last of the twenty-first inning on a hit batsman, a balk, a throw to second that allowed the slowest runner in Major League history to take third, and a wild pitch in which that runner hesitated, then lumbered down the third-base line in a move designed to send the game into the twenty-second frame. But alas, the catcher’s throw to the plate escaped the gloved claws of the pitcher and sailed into center field, where, after fumbling the ball, the center fielder made a wild throw into the stands, where an eager fan reaching for the ball dropped it onto the field, and it was finally picked up by the first baseman, who threw to the plate and hit the inattentive umpire, who was at that time bending over that plate whisking away the accrued dust just as the aforementioned runner, after paring his nails, was bearing down on the scene. Instant replay showed that the runner might or might not have touched the plate, but the first-base umpire who made the call from his perch on the far side of the first base deemed that the limp-legged “runner” was safe.
The National League fans disputed not just the call but results of the Series, citing the fact that in the aggregate, their team had scored more total runs. Their dispute led them to take to the streets and to Facebook, contending that the rules governing the Series should be changed so that the total runs be the determining factor in determining the winner of the World Series, adding that the American League fans were appallingly execrable. Or worse.