We’ve all agreed on the construct of time, which if you think about it, is a pretty unifying and amazing thing.

We’ve all decided that from this moment to this moment is a second; from then to now is a minute and from the time of me taking the mound, I have a set amount of time to deliver the pitch…or people will get bored.

Or distracted. Or generally disinterested. Or will change the channel. Or will get up and not come back.

It’s a pervasive fear built around a lack of understanding of the intended audience and a longing for the every-mentioned and rarely seen ‘casual fan’.

This is the fan that will pay attention to the Big Games or when the fervor of the city demands they pay attention. But businessmen in suits that make more in a month than I take home in a year argue that those same fans would pay attention all the time if I pitched faster.

If the batter didn’t get out of the box and fix his gloves. If the catcher didn’t adjust himself and God forbid if he walked out to the mound to check on me.

All of these things slow down what is described as a slow game already. One that doesn’t attract the ‘casual fan’.

And doesn’t seem to take into account the millions….(And millions) of actual fans that pay good money and attend baseball games every year.

I would dare say it’s disheartening that these fans, these customers that actually come to a mid-week 12:35 p.m. start, aren’t given enough.

They’re not given enough credit, enough attention and they certainly don’t get enough love.