Soon, Nats or Astro fans will join us in the dark certainty that they wuz robbed

This is untimely to say, given the sad death of MLB umpire Eric Cooper, age 52, due to a blood clot. And let's wish for a speedy recovery for ump Jeff Nelson, who took a foul to the head in game three of the ALCS, and who won't return this month. These guys are blue collar heroes, troopers, salt of the earth, in every sense. But last week's Yankee-Astros series showcased on national TV an arbitrary, haphazard system of calling balls and strikes - a minefield of mistakes that altered the course of every game. It was awful. 

You cannot predict baseball, Suzyn. But here is a certainty: Next week, either the Astros or Nats will be sitting at home, kicking puppies, knowing they were were screwed by bad calls on balls and strikes.  

Time after time last week, the Yanks and Astros dealt with botched home plate calls - so often and so blatantly that the Fox announcers Joe Buck and John Smoltz had to mention it - amazing revelations for employees who are paid handsomely to look the other way. But when the strike zone automation shows a pitch eight inches off the plate, and it's called a strike - well, you cannot un-see it. Last week, with supposedly the finest umps in the game, blown calls happened with regularity. 

And each one carried a huge impact. A count that should be 2-1 becomes 1-2, putting the batter at a huge disadvantage. (How often this year did Aaron Judge become victim to an imaginary strike zone worthy of Andre the Giant?) And here's the dirty little secret: They don't equal out. 

That's the crapola they feed us: That the occasional bad call gets balanced out by another bad call. When Gary Sanchez came up in the critical 11th inning of Game Two, his single at bat lasted 10 pitches and eight minutes. At one point, instant replay showed Sanchez striking out, though the ump declared it a foul tip. A few pitches later, the ump called out Sanchez on a pitch well off the plate. So, said the spin doctors, everything came out fine in the end, right? Justice was served, and Sanchez went down. But that's bullshit. 

Several times last week, close calls at first base were overturned - in this case, they regularly favored favor Houston. But who can grouse? The calls were done correctly, forensically, and the right decision was made. There were no arguments, no screaming matches. The players simply turned and yelled for a replay, and one was done. It worked quite smoothly. 

But at home plate, there are no challenges, no replay, and numerous at bats were corrupted by horrible calls, dramatically changing the outcomes. 

When Aroldis Chapman faced George Springer in the fateful bottom of the ninth of game six, it looked as though one of the pitches clipped the corner - but the ump called it outside. Thus changed the dynamics of the entire at-bat. Instead of striking out, Springer walked, pissing off El Chapo and setting up Jose Altuve for the final home run. Well, so be it. Good riddance. But in the course of that game, the calls did not even-out. I don't buy that. For my money, they favored Houston. (Yes, I'm biased, but I know what I saw.) 

As we speak, the NFL faces an existential crisis due to the stark inability of refs to police the game. On virtually every play, some penalty occurs. It's a crap shoot as to which one gets flagged. New replay reviews of pass interference - an almost impossible penalty to define - have only made the game more frustrating. I'm a lifelong Giants fan. In part because the horror show of the franchise, I've found games almost impossible to watch. But one huge problem is the number of flags that fly - canceling big plays with the knowledge that other transgressions were simply missed. Maybe football is too popular to fail, but with every 10-minute video replay delay, the game becomes harder to watch.

Comparatively speaking, baseball has no such problem. Instant replays can be amazingly easy. For decades, umps fought video reviews; now, they quickly go to the booth and make the right call. 

I have always believed the zeitgeist of umpires should have changed with the millennium. Long ago, umps were big, brawny cops - 300-pound linebackers who ruled the game with shouts and fierce stares - God bless 'em. For better or worse, they shepherded the pastime for 100 years. But today, the burly man thing doesn't work. For starters, umps shouldn't rotate: The first base ump should be a specialist, who always works there. He should be young, tech savvy and carry an iPad. Rather than make a call, he should quickly use his own camera and other video angles - with full transparency on the Jumbo-tron - to get it right the first time. (The fact than an ump on the field made the wrong call should not affect the video decision; this bit about "overturning the on-field call" is pure crapola. Often, that call is wrong.) The right call should take 30 seconds, not five minutes and a commercial break. We can wait for it. Once a call is challenged, we have to wait five minutes, anyway.

Likewise, it's time for automated home plate trials in the minor leagues. They should start in the low levels, so that prospects of every franchise are affected. By including it slowly, the full impact of automated balls and strikes can be tweaked, so eventually the network cams - which give every player the same strike zone - can be perfected. In three to five years, a change could be made at the Major League level.

Before you start screaming, listen: It's going to happen, eventually. 

Yes, I realize that such a change will rob the professional game of yet more of those homespun, cracker barrel vagaries of humanity. Well, that ship sailed long ago. Baseball's great bond with its fans comes in the high school and Little League levels, where there's always an insurance agent or firefighter behind the plate, earning $10 per game. That won't change. But at the corporate, billion dollar level of MLB, why are we still pretending the human element is sacred? It's been thrown overboard since we were young.

Sometime next week, we Yankee fans will be joined by our counterparts from either Washington or Houston. They will suffer from a form of PTSD. They will have watched their team - in crucial at bats - get certifiably robbed. The calls won't balance out. One team will simply get screwed. All condolences to Mr. Cooper and Mr. Nelson. But it's time to start the change.