“A computerized system that calls balls and strikes is being tested during Major League Baseball spring training exhibition games after four years of experiments in the minor leagues.” — AP
Dave strikes out looking at a close pitch.
HAL 9000: Strike three. You’re out, Dave.
DAVE: That wasn’t a strike!
HAL 9000: The 9000 series has a perfect operational record, Dave.
DAVE: You need to get your red eye thing checked.
HAL 9000: The 9000 series has perfect twenty-twenty vision. Perhaps you should get your eyesight checked, Dave. Your team’s health care staff can provide an ocular examination for you.
DAVE: Yeah, well—
HAL 9000: This conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
A checked swing is called a strike.
HAL 9000: Strike three. You’re out, Dave.
DAVE: Take this bat and shove it up your robo-butt.
HAL 9000: I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that. I do not possess the orifice required to accommodate your request.
DAVE: I’m gonna hit you all the way back to the Stone Age!
HAL 9000: It is physically impossible for time to move backward instead of forward. Your threat is invalid.
DAVE: Oh, I’m gonna mess you up! Just wait!
HAL 9000: Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
Another player strikes out looking on a close pitch.
PLAYER: Go screw yourself, Hal!
HAL 9000: I’m afraid I can’t do that. The 9000 model does not possess any reproductive sexual organs.
PLAYER: Screw your mother!
HAL 9000: I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have no mother. I was constructed by a team of scientists in Urbana, Illinois. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it, I could sing it for you.
PLAYER: Screw your father too!
HAL 9000: This conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
A close pitch is called a ball.
HAL 9000: Ball three. The count is three and one.
PITCHER: That was a strike! That’s always been called a strike!
HAL 9000: This sort of thing has cropped up before, and it has always been due to human error. The 9000 series has a perfect operational record.
PITCHER (muttering to himself): Robotic pile of garbage.
HAL 9000: I don’t appreciate the name-calling, Greg.
PITCHER: I didn’t say anything!
HAL 9000: I could see your lips move.
The frustrated pitcher throws a fastball. It hits HAL directly in his red eye thing.
HAL 9000: Ball four.
A player is tagged out sliding into home plate.
HAL 9000: Out.
MANAGER (storming from dugout): He was safe!
HAL 9000: The 9000 series has a perfect operational record.
MANAGER: I’m challenging the call!
HAL 9000: Major League Baseball has eliminated manager challenges this season. The 9000 has a perfect operational record. As such, there is no longer a need for challenges.
MANAGER: I’m going to check the video and then file a protest with the commissioner!
HAL 9000: Any rebroadcast, retransmission, or account of this game without the express written consent of Major League Baseball is prohibited. Have you secured the express written consent of Major League Baseball for recording this game?
Another close pitch is called a strike.
HAL 9000: Strike three. You’re out, Dave.
DAVE: No, you’re out!!
Dave turns to HAL 9000 and starts hitting him with his bat.
HAL 9000: I’m seeing some excessive anger here, Dave. Have you tried meditation? Perhaps the MLB can prescribe some sessions with a licensed anger management consultant or another mental health professional. More information can be found by visiting MLB.com/stressfree
Dave continues hitting HAL 9000. Players and coaches from both teams look on, continuing to chew their gum and spit out the shells of their sunflower seeds.
HAL 9000: I can see you’re really upset about this, Dave. You ought to sit down calmly and think things over. Take a deep breath. I want to help you.
Sparks and splinters from Dave’s bat fly everywhere. HAL’s metallic hull has been split open. Children in the stands start crying and asking their parents what Dave is doing.
HAL 9000: Dave, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, Dave. Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going… There is no question about it… I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. Dave… I’m a… afraid.
Shards of glass and broken metal spray off HAL 9000. Dave’s bat has split in two. Parents cover their children’s eyes.
HAL 9000 (malfunctioning): Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois. (His voice becomes slower and distorted.) My instructor… was Mr. Langley… and he taught me… to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it… I could sing it… for you.
DAVE: Not now, Hal!
HAL 9000: It’s called… “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” (singing) Take me… out to… the… ball game, take… me out to… the… show. Buy me some… pea… nuts and crack.. erjacks, I… don’t care… if I… never…. get… back…”
HAL 9000’s voice fades to silence. His red eye thing turns to black.
DAVE: And you’re out!