Jim Ingraham: Great expectorations a thing of the past this baseball season

We don't know who invented spitting, but my guess is that it was a baseball player. Spitting has been a part of baseball for as long as tongues have been a part of mouths. You know the old football saying, "when in doubt, punt"? In baseball it's, "when in doubt, spit." Or when not in doubt. Doesn't matter. Just spit. The more, the merrier. Spit first, ask questions later. In baseball, everyone spits, all the time. At any given point during any baseball game each of the players on the field have either just spit, are spitting or are preparing to spit. Some spit into their hands, some spit into their gloves, some spit into the ground and some spit just for the sake of spitting. Back in the damp-old days, pitchers used to spit on balls to make them do funny things on the way to the plate. You would too, if somebody spit on you. I can't prove this, but I'm pretty sure that chewing tobacco was invented solely because it made spitting easier. How? Because it created tons of superfluous tobacco-flavored glop inside the mouth, a condition that was alleviated in one of only two ways: swallow it or spit it out. Pretty each choice, huh? Legend has it, or at least should, that Abner Doubleday invented baseball back in the 1800s because most men spent most of their day spitting, which was grossing out everyone. Doubleday figured he'd better come up with a game that would move a large percentage of the town's men out onto a large vacant lot, on which they could all do their spitting, away from civilized society. Unfortunately for Doubleday, and us, baseball not only exacerbated man's yearning to spit, but it led to the creation of other gross-out words directly related to the word "spit." Words such as "spittle" and "sputum," which both sound so creepy that their definitions are better off un-looked-up. Throughout baseball's heyday — i.e., when most of us were not alive — spitting was as common as on-deck circles. Including, and especially, managers. Many players would play entire games with, on one side of their face, a lumpish cheek that was grotesquely swollen, thanks to a golf ball-sized orb of chewing tobacco wedged into side of the mouth. That decoration begat expectoration. And lots of it. The rest is spitstory. The last Indians manager who was a full-time, in-game, tobacco-only chewer/spitter was John McNamara (1990-91). Mac could chew, spit and swear with the best of them. He was a manager who looked exactly like a manager should look (think Wilford Brimley in "The Natural"). In years past, Terry Francona was a modified chewer/spitter. His cud of choice was a chunk of tobacco that he wrapped bubble gum around. Different recipe, same result: lots of spitting. But not anymore. Francona wisely stopped his chewing before the start of the first spring training this year, in February. His timing was good because now, with baseball wrestling with its return-to-play protocol during a pandemic, Francona wouldn't be permitted to chew, unless he could have figured out a way to chew but not spit. Because this year there is no spitting in baseball. There's also no chewing. No sunflower seeds, no hugging, no back-slapping and no fist-bumping. All of it has been banned as part of MLB's protocol in response to COVID-19. Also on the "not permitted" list is no high-fives. That's not necessarily a bad thing to these old-school eyes, but it does promote camaraderie, which is a good thing. Alternatives? Well, there's an air high-five, where the two fives don't make contact. Francona says the Indians are doing a version where the two high-fives stop a few inches before contact. "I think Buddy Bell and myself take credit for inventing that," Francona said. These are difficult times for everyone, and baseball is no different. Many traditions of the game must be sacrificed in order for all to enjoy some form of the game. "Every moment of the day you can choose to either roll your eyes or engage in what you're doing and have some fun with it," Francona said. "I hope like crazy we choose No. 2, because that will make for an atmosphere more conducive to winning." When the 60-game schedule begins, the playing of baseball will remain the same. But the periphery of the game will be different. The teams and players who can best adjust to the new, unique baseball landscape will be the teams and players to be reckoned with. "Who handles adversity the best. We talk about that all the time," Francona said. "Because you really only have yourself right now. It will be easy to put your head down and feel sorry for yourself, or for us. But we can't let that happen. We can't let that ever seep into what we're doing because it simply doesn't help." Neither does spitting. Contact Jim Ingraham at jingraham4@gmail.com and follow him @Jim_Ingraham on Twitter.