A lesson you learn as you grow older is that everything is somewhere on a spectrum. Though we yearn for blacks and whites, for certainties and absolutes, the world is more complicated than that, littered with partials and mitigations. Seldom does everything point in one direction. Seldom do we even know about everything pointing. There is always much we can’t or don’t figure out. There is a neat thing, though, about spectra — each one has two extremes. So when we know enough, we might be able to identify points near an extreme. The least-talented running back. The most challenging summit. The worst called ball by an umpire.

Strikes and balls are most definitely on a spectrum. The strike zone might be precisely defined, but it’s impossible for humans to call it that way, given our own limitations, which means any given pitch has a certain likelihood of being called a strike, and a certain likelihood of being called a ball. Most controversial calls take place around the boundaries. That area where taken pitches end up as coin flips. But sometimes there are bad calls beyond the boundaries, within or without. These head toward our extremes. Armed with PITCHf/x, it’s possible to find the worst called ball, by looking for balls on pitches down the middle. They’re uncommon, but they happen. What’s been the worst called ball of the 2015 first half? The following pitch was called a ball, though it was 3.0 inches from the center of the strike zone:

The worst called ball is worse than this.

The worst called ball, so far, was 2.5 inches from the center of the strike zone. I first identified the pitch using raw PITCHf/x data, and then I used the adjusted location information available on Brooks Baseball. I didn’t double-check every single pitch thrown, and sometimes PITCHf/x just misses a pitch here and there, so I can’t 100% guarantee this is the worst called ball of the first half, but I like its odds. 2.5 inches, from the most obvious called strike in the realm of called strikes. Estimate 2.5 inches with your fingers. It doesn’t matter how close you are. This is a pitch right down the pipe.

We get to go back to Tuesday, April 21, to a cool and windy evening in Detroit. At the time of this game, the Tigers led the Central, and the Red Sox led the East, and the Mets led the other East, and the Twins looked godawful. I suppose the date isn’t that important. Our game was started by Nathan Eovaldi and Kyle Lobstein. In the bottom of the second, with one out and none on, Eovaldi faced J.D. Martinez. A first-pitch fastball went for a called strike. A second-pitch fastball should’ve.

Or should it have? Watch the pitch. I’ve already biased you, because I’ve identified this as a terrible called ball. I’ve told you the pitch was 2.5 inches from the center of the strike zone. So you’re going into this with your mind made up, but imagine you were watching this live, without the assistance of Gameday. Would you have thought anything of the call?

Things that are immediately apparent: Brian McCann wanted a pitch low and in. Eovaldi threw the ball 96 miles per hour, and he didn’t hit his spot. He forced McCann’s glove back over the plate, and Martinez started to swing, then he thought better of it. McCann’s movements make the pitch look outside. Martinez’s movements make the pitch look outside. The off-center camera angle does nothing to help. But this isn’t an obviously bad call, by Will Little. It’s a sneaky-bad call, explained in large part by Eovaldi missing location. It isn’t easy to frame an off-target fastball when it leaves the hand at almost 100.

Yet, a screenshot, of the baseball somewhere around the front of the plate:

Let’s add a couple lines:

Nothing here should deceive. This is a picture of what actually happened. The ball is at the height of Martinez’s mid-thigh. It’s not directly over the middle of the plate, but it’s awful close. This is confirmation of the pitch being down the pipe, but because of the way it looked in motion, it’s hard to believe the baseball passed through this tunnel. Blame Little all you want, but McCann tricked everybody. Because he was initially set up here:

Sometimes, after a bad ball or strike call, the broadcasters will make a remark. After the pitch in the Twins/A’s game, above, Bert Blyleven said it looked like the pitch caught a lot of the plate. Announcers tend not to let those things go; announcers are thankful to have anything to announce. But here’s a full rundown of the Yankees/Tigers broadcasts. From Tigers television:

It was RBI number 11 for J.D., which ties him with Cespedes for the team lead.

[pitch]

Checked it, missed it outside. Martinez still second in the American League with his five home runs.

From Yankees television:

…when he came here and got hired to be the third-base coach for Ausmus, one of the first things he said to Dombrowski: “you gotta pick this guy up.”

[pitch]

“He can play.” And he had a great year last year.

From Tigers radio:

So if it’s a hard fastball, the slider’s in the 83-mile-an-hour range…

[pitch]

There’s a pitch outside.

From Yankees radio:

J.D. is 13-for-53, five homers, 11 RBI. Aaaaand it’ll be an 0-1.

[pitch]

Oh, outside, the count 1-and-1.

I also listened to the Yankees’ Spanish-language broadcast, and while I couldn’t transcribe it, there didn’t seem to be anything about the call. There was actually a bit of dead air. So we’ll call it five broadcasts, that didn’t think the call was in any way remarkable. Five broadcasts, featuring a total of more than five people. There weren’t any instant replays. Just an acceptance that the pitch was a ball, and that because it was a ball it must’ve been outside. This is the worst called ball in baseball over more than three months. It was a fastball. Nobody noticed. That’s the power of how a catcher catches a pitch. It’s not just umpires who get fooled. It’s everyone, because umpires are better at calling pitches than non-umpires are.

I think it’s safe to say Little’s call stands out, within the game:

There, you see the obviousness of the call. There, you see something borderline unforgivable. In reality, I think it was pretty forgivable. Can’t blame a human for being human.

So how bad did the call hurt the Yankees? On the very next pitch, Martinez singled. But he singled off an inside fastball, like what Eovaldi was supposed to throw at 0-and-1. And then the next batter ripped a line drive up the middle, but Eovaldi caught it, and he threw to first to double off Martinez and end the inning three pitches after the missed call. So nothing hurt, and nothing made sense. Maybe it was the universe rewarding Eovaldi for not complaining about the called ball. But perhaps even he didn’t notice how good a pitch he’d actually thrown. For the very worst of something, it sure didn’t make any noise.