current specialty. That would be the physics of
lunar
sports, which probes the scientific issues that would be involved should, for example, George Steinbrenner contemplate moving the Yankees from the Bronx to outer space.
“About 10 years ago, there was talk about returning to the moon,” Mr. Brancazio said. “I taught astronomy, and I’m a sports fan, and I wondered what it would be like to play all sorts of sports on the moon.”
His lecture on the subject, delivered at the City University of New York, was initially composed for a science fiction convention. But he eventually discovered its uses as a teaching tool.
“There are things you take for granted in sports that affect the field of play, like the Earth’s gravity and its atmosphere,” he said.
LUNARDOME
There’s no air on the moon, of course. This means all athletes would have to wear unwieldy spacesuits, and how interesting would that be to play or watch? Mr. Brancazio, who brings a measure of earthly practicality to his calculations, concluded that lunar sports must be conducted indoors, in pressurized, domed arenas where air—and air resistance—would be the same as it is on Earth.
Jay North, star of TV’s
Dennis the
Menace, was also the voice of Bam-Bam Rubble.
Lunar gravity, about a sixth of what it is here, would remain a significant factor indoors, rendering certain sports impossible. Tennis is out; you couldn’t hit a ball with enough topspin to keep it on the court. And basketball is out; the baskets would have to be 60 feet high. On the other hand, diving and gymnastics would be more balletic.
Mr. Brancazio’s primary focus, however, was baseball; he’s the kind of Brooklyn Dodger fan who still winces when you say Ralph Branca, and he seems hopeful if not serious when he envisions future recreational possibilities on a populated moon base. An understanding of how the game would change, he said, begins with the difference between mass and weight. The former is a measurement of an object’s resistance to being accelerated; the latter measures the force of gravity on an object. Given equal air resistance on Earth and in a lunar stadium, the mass—of a person, say, or a ball—remains constant; its weight on the moon, however, is one-sixth of its weight on Earth.
So you couldn’t run any faster on the moon than you can here (you would have to develop a kind of low-lying, hopping stride, however, so you didn’t launch yourself into the air with every push off the ball of your foot); and you couldn’t throw a ball any faster, either.
“The bat will feel lighter when you pick it up,” Mr. Brancazio said, because it doesn’t weigh as much. “But swinging it”—its mass doesn’t change—“isn’t any easier.”
FLY BALL
Is this an advantage for hitters or pitchers? Well, that depends on how you spin it—the ball, that is. The rotation on a ball is a force that works in conjunction with air resistance and gravity to create a total force that determines the path of a ball. Curve balls, sliders, and sinkers—which are all thrown with a degree of overspin and break downward—would be less effective on the moon because the break is not as enhanced by a lesser gravitational pull. A ball thrown with enough backspin, however, would be something no major leaguer has ever seen—a rising fastball that isn’t merely an illusion.
Official distance from home plate to second base: 127 feet, 3 ⅜ inches.
The distance between the pitcher’s mound to the plate is 60 feet, 6 inches, and on Earth, over that span, gravity causes a thrown ball to drop about 3 feet, Mr. Brancazio said. A backspin of, say, 1,800 rotations per minute can reduce that drop by a foot and a half.
“But on the moon the ball rises if the spin is greater than 600 rpm’s,” he said, “because the lift force it produces is greater than the weight of the ball.”
PLAY BALL
Of course, if the batter does manage to hit the ball, a whole other set of these physical
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