The Mendoza Line

I have too often heard that baseball is a “boring game.”

“I can’t watch baseball on TV, but going to the game isn't that bad.”

“I don’t understand baseball.”

“It’s too slow.”

I once had the opportunity of defending America’s Pastime in ward choir practice, of all places. Since moving to Kansas City just under a year ago, I have had the opportunity of seeing firsthand just how popular the NFL has become. The Chiefs are everywhere. At choir that day, a few women seated in front of me were commenting about how much they loved football. One of them said something to the effect of, “I just know God has a special place in heaven for me for not watching football on Sunday. I mean, just look at how much I’ve had to sacrifice.” I rolled my eyes and probably shook my head, but I didn’t see a need to interject my opinion until they started to disrespect my game.

“Baseball is so slow. It’s such a simple game too; not nearly as complicated as football.”

Hmm, I thought, do I really want to get into this argument? Yes.

“That’s what people say who don’t understand baseball,” I said.

They turned around and spewed the typical ignorant complaints about baseball and reiterated their preference to football. What followed was a debate as heated as one might expect between members of a church choir just before singing. That was the latest in a string of encounters with people who did not grow up with baseball, don’t understand the intricacies of the game, and therefore, don’t appreciate it. That’s when I decided I needed to help others see the game as I do.

So, this week (and I’ll try to post every week) I’ll be explaining about the term “Mendoza Line.” If there’s something you’d like me to explain or if you have an idea for a post, send me a comment or an email, and I’ll address your issue in a future edition. And now, the Mendoza Line.

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The first time I ever heard the term Mendoza Line was while I was playing in a summer league when I was 16. Our assistant coach was much younger than the head coach and would frequently joke with the players. One day, in answering a question about his own high school playing days, where he was a backup catcher for three years, he referred to his batting average as being just above the Mendoza Line.

Of course, when you’re 16 years old and surrounded by your teammates, some of whom already think you’re a geek, you don’t ask for an explanation of the Mendoza Line, especially when everyone is laughing at the reference. So I faked a chuckle and tried to think of what it could be. It was obviously a bit of joke, so it had to imply a low batting average. But, what about the name? Mendoza Line? It reminded me of lines of latitude like the Equator or the Tropic of Capricorn. Maybe it was a line of latitude? Maybe it was at 200º latitude and so if you were hitting below the Mendoza Line, you would be hitting less than .200. That makes sense, I thought. There was probably another term for hitting under .023 called the Tropic of Cancer…

As time went on, the reference would pop up occasionally, and I abandoned the idea that it was in any way related to geography. It became increasingly apparent that there must have been someone who had hit poorly, and so the phrase was coined. As it turns out, there was such a player–Mario Mendoza.

Mario played nine seasons (1974-1982) in the major leagues with three different teams, the Pittsburgh Pirates, the Seattle Mariners, and the Texas Rangers. For the most part, he was a utility infielder playing 2B, 3B, and SS for most of his career. Incidentally, he also pitched a total of two innings in 1977, compiling an earned run average (ERA) of 13.50, giving up three earned runs on three hits, with a homerun and two walks. He was born in Chihuahau, Mexico and signed with the Pirates when he was 19 years old because of his defensive prowess. George Brett, the legendary Royal, who was chasing a .400 season in 1980 said of Mendoza, “I remember going into a series in Seattle, think I went 2-for-12 with two home runs, but hit the ball on the nose like 10 times. It was one of those streaks. I remember Mario Mendoza, the shortstop for the Mariners, making two or three diving stabs up the middle. When that starts happening, you think, 'Geez, I wonder if it's in the stars.' You're hitting line drives right at someone and guys are diving for balls and catching them. You're like, "What is going on here? A month ago that was a hit." Now all of a sudden I can't buy a hit.” Neither could Mario. Throughout his career, Mario only hit above .200 four times (see graphic).

Interestingly enough, it may have been Brett who coined the term "Mendoza Line." Supposedly, reporters were questioning Brett about his slow start one season and he replied that he knew he had been having a rough time when he looked in the paper and saw his batting average “below the Mendoza Line.”

So there you have it. Mario Mendoza, a shortstop with a career .215 batting average is the source of the term Mendoza Line, which commonly refers to a batting average of .200. So, if a player is batting below the Mendoza Line, they are hitting less than .200, or averaging less than two hits in ten at bats. After the first 15 games of the 2007 season, Mark Teahen (.200) is right at the Mendoza Line and six other regulars in the Royals’ lineup are below the Mendoza Line, including Ryan Shealy (.098), who is fast approaching the Tropic of Cancer.