Last Sunday morning, I woke up to the chatter on ESPN radio about the turning point of the second playoff game between the New York Mets and Los Angeles Dodgers. the Dodgers’ Chase Utley broke the Met’s Ruben Tejada’s leg while successfully preventing the completion of a double play, resulting in a four-run rally. The Dodgers won; Tejada was lost for the rest of the season; and I was blearily upset, in part because I’m a Mets fan.

However, I pride myself on being a fan, not a fanatic, so I spent the next several days trying to make sense of the chatter about the double-play preventing slide.

“Was the slide `dirty?`”

“Yes,” most commentators agreed.

“Was it `legal?`”

“No,” seemed to be the general consensus, with lots of chatter about not being near the base and “rolling” vs. “normal” slides.

But when the baseball powers announced that Mr. Utley would be chased away from baseball for two games, almost everyone — except for Mets fanatics — howled. Mr. Utley said he would appeal on the grounds that he has been sliding this way throughout his career without any prior consequences. Most sportscasters sympathised, arguing that while the slide might be dirty and illegal, players have been getting away with this for more than a century.

Fast forward to the 53-minute seventh inning of Game Four of the Texas Rangers at the Toronto Blue Jays play-off game, full of more twists and turns than the 2016 Republican presidential campaign: thrown ball hitting bat, allowing Texas to break a tie; fanatics throwing stuff on the field; three consecutive Texas errors; a Toronto game-winning three-run home run; and more stuff being thrown on the field.

But the ESPN Radio chatterboxes have been strangely silent about one of the more disturbing parts of that inning. Bases loaded with nobody out for Toronto, and the batter hit a ground ball to an infielder, who threw the ball to the catcher, who couldn’t complete the double play because the runner slid into him. The Texas manager charged out of the dugout to argue that the batter should be called out because the slide was illegal.

“I think the manager has a point,” said play-by-play broadcaster Dan Shulman as the stadium became eerily quiet. He went on to argue that the slide was similar to Chase Utley’s slide.

“Or worse,” said Dan’s sidekick.

Eventually, the umpire didn’t change his ruling, and the noise level swelled as the game continued.

“Maybe it was the right decision,” I said to my wife as she monitored the cooking down of spaghetti sauce. “But I can’t help but wonder if part of the umpire’s decision was based on his fear of what would happen if he ruled against the home team.”

While pondering the fairness of these decisions, I thought about how the Chicago law enforcement authorities only made six drug arrests during the three-day weekend of Grateful Dead shows. Really; With Deadheads known for rolling joints and consuming other illegal substances? To what extent did this low arrest rate have to do with the prosperous, well-behaved vibe of the Dead’s fan base? Would the arrest rate be equally low if the audience were hip-hop fans?

And what does it mean when the Old Testament prophet Amos hopes that “justice roll down like waters And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24, New American Standard). How do we know that we’re moving towards “justice” and “righteousness?”

I believe that baseball’s leadership team should alert everyone that they will begin enforcing the “no-rolling-slides” rule during the 2016 spring training season — and then rigorously follow through. I believe that adults should be allowed to roll joints legally. I believe that justice has something to do with affirming life and promoting a level playing field.

Let’s go, Mets!