In the week before Armando Galarraga’s stolen glory early last month, I was finishing my spring reading of one the most important books a Christ-following athlete and sports fan can read, Shirl James Hoffman’s Good Game.

Hoffman asks all kinds of excellent questions and challenges the way the church in America has increasingly put its stamp of approval on every venture of sports without thinking critically about how, say, ultimate fighting carves into a spectator’s soul, not to mention what it does to the God-designed brain of the participants.

One of those key questions is this: Do sports really provide opportunities for learning that other endeavors do not?

For instance, we often say that the practice of sports trains an athlete in dedication and perseverance. Such a statement is intended to “automatically” condone the purpose of sports over and above other ventures. But what is a pianist learning through hours of committed practice? Might it be dedication and perseverance? And might it come without the risk of injuries that can alter a person’s quality of life for years to come?

If you are a Major League pitcher, you dream about pitching in the World Series, winning the Cy Young, or pitching a perfect game.  That’s the pinnacle of your career.  That’s your ticket to the history books; perhaps even to the Hall of Fame.

If you follow baseball at all, or if you witnessed Detroit radio host Paul Edwards’ near-heart attack on Twitter on Wednesday night, you now know the names Jim Joyce and Armando Galarraga.  Galarraga, a pitcher for the Detroit Tigers, threw a perfect game this week in front of a home crowd.  The only problem was that Joyce, a 22-year veteran umpire, blew a ninth inning, 2-out call at first base, robbing Galarraga of his place in the history books.

The Twitterverse exploded Wednesday night when what should have been a perfect game thrown by the virtually unknown pitcher, Armando Galarraga, was inexplicably denied by a blown call from umpire Jim Joyce.

With only one out to go in his quest for a perfect game (that’s when you retire all 27 batters you face in a row), Galarraga induced a difficult grounder to his first baseman, Miguel Cabrera, who played the groundball nicely and threw it to Galarraga who was scrambling to cover first base. Although the play appeared to be close, it was obvious (even to the naked eye), that the throw had beaten the runner to the bag and Galarraga got his foot on the bag before the runner. However, umpire Joyce called the baserunner safe, taking away the perfect game, the no-hitter, and quickly stamping his identity as the umpire who stole a historic night from Galarraga, the Detroit Tigers and Major League Baseball.