The Myth of the Good At-Bat

Last week, watching Reggie Willits bat against Scott Kazmir, I literally bit my tongue. I'd just flipped on the game; Kazmir was pitching well; Willits stepped to the plate. With two strikes, Reggie just kept fouling off good pitches. Fastballs, sliders, changes–he hit them over the fence behind home-plate. And the Angels's announcers were ecstatic. Rex Hudler was smiling up in the booth. "What a great at-bat by Reggie! Oh, Reggie's having a great at-bat." After about eleven pitches Willits ended up walking. And the great at-bat stuff started again. I've always hated "good at-bats." If we're talking about a hitter who gets himself into a good count, then goes the other way for a hit, then I think the expression works. That is, in fact, a good at-bat. But if the hitter's just not very good, and all he can is go up there and try to work a walk, then, no, that's not a good at-bat. That's a bad at-bad. That's an at-bat that Billy Crystal, at sixty-five, could have six days out of seven.