Because we are in the middle of high school and college baseball season and because desperate times call for desperate measures, I am having to name myself Infield Fly Rule Sheriff for north Louisiana and maybe even for east Texas.

This is effective immediately. No time to waste …

The Infield Fly Rule can make you look crazier than a road lizard, more foolish than the guy who botched the one-car funeral procession. Not knowing this rule has caused more Walk of Shames than beer.

We’ve witnessed it mangled twice last week.

Once, a defender’s mistake cost his team a run. The other time, a baserunner ran his team out of an inning.

This happens more often than you’d think. And when it does, it looks like a prison break.

“An infield fly is a fair ball — not including a line drive nor an attempted bunt — which can be caught by an infielder with ordinary effort, when first and second, or first, second and third bases are occupied, before two are out.”

Once the umpire declares “Infield Fly!” and/or points to the sky, the batter is out and all force plays are removed, regardless of whether the ball is caught.

This is to protect defenseless runners: an infielder in this situation could drop the ball on purpose and then turn an easy double play.

The rule sounds tricky but it’s not once you ponder it for a moment. And the moment to ponder is not when the Infield Fly Rule has been declared. It’s now, while no bullets are flying and all is quiet on the western front. 

So, the examples from last week:

Runners first and second, one out, fly to infield’s right side. Infield Fly is declared. Fielder misses the ball, and the runner on second, safe as grandma’s banana pudding secret recipe, semi-panics and takes off for third. The throw from the second baseman, who’s recovered the ball, is in plenty of time — BUT the third baseman doesn’t tag the runner. Steps on the bag thinking there was a force. But the force is off once Infield Fly is declared. The runner, who was surprised as anyone by his good fortune, then scored on a two-out base hit.

In the other example, runners were on first and second, one out, their team trailing by a run, eighth inning. Big Moment. Infield Fly is declared on a very high pop behind first; it hits the fielder’s glove and drops maybe three feet from him and — the runner on second bolted toward third as if propelled from a cannon. Easy throw to the third baseman, who makes the tag, end of that half inning and end of threat.

Makes your heart hurt.

So it is my suggestion that each team designate an Infield Fly Rule Captain. Or it could be Infield Fly Rule Sergeant-at-Arms or Infield Fly Rule Flavor of the Day/Ringmaster/Man About Town. Whatev. The point is, when the Infield Fly Rule is in effect as noted above, that appointed Infield Fly Rule Specialist is yelling to the baserunners, “HOLD YOUR BASE, FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING DECENT AND GOOD, DO NOT MOVE!”

Whether the fielder catches the fly or not, you are safe. Batter up.

Now if you are a fielder — this will take some practice and communication and work and your coach will have to agree — you almost always “have” to let the ball drop. The batter will be out anyway, the runners probably won’t know the rule or will panic, and you can double one up. If the runners don’t move and the ball doesn’t drop and take a wild bounce, no problem. Ball back to pitcher. Batter up.

And if you forget all that, it’s OK. The important thing is that you find and read “Mitch and the Infield Fly Rule,” an essay by the master of the art, the late and great Mississippian Willie Morris.

In it, when Morris taught a class in the American Novel as writer-in-residence at Ole Miss in the 1980s, a “willowy, full-breasted blond Chi Omega” called Mitch, 21 and a straight-A student, “tall and slender and lithesome, wry and irreverent and whimsical,” stands in class one day, recites the Infield Fly Rule in its entirety and finishes by saying, to her wide-eyed classmates in the cataclysmic quietness of the large amphitheater classroom and with a throaty Bacall voice, “I always thought it a fine rule.”

Contact Teddy at teddy@latech.edu