JUST DUH FACTS

Eight so-obvious-it-has-to-happen visions of the near future

NEVER MIND that a ball hitting the foul pole is fair. The most confounding thing in baseball is this: Thanks to boxes superimposed to show the strike zone, fans watching on TV know instantly whether a pitch is a ball or a strike, but the home plate ump is left to rely on his superb—but not unerring—judgment. MLB's recent embrace of instant replay has been a success; the minimal disruption for reviewing a call is outweighed by the satisfaction of accuracy. Look for baseball to rely on technology to call pitches, prompting the inevitable question: Are officials, with their capacity for human error, necessary at all in sports?

WHEN ROGER FEDERER lost in the fourth round of the 2018 U.S. Open, yes, it had a bit to do with the formidability of his foe. But the 37-year-old was really done in by humidity so oppressive that he needed to get his breathing under control after the match. It was both a dispiriting defeat and a glimpse into the future. As the planet warms, it will impact us all, not least those who tax their bodies in increasingly extreme conditions. Whether it's moving the 2022 Qatar World Cup to the fall or rethinking football's training camp drills, sports will change as climates change.

HOW FAST does the wheel of change spin? In 2003 the NFL rejected a Super Bowl ad promoting Las Vegas as a resort destination, so toxic were the city's ties to gambling. As early as next fall an NFL franchise—the Raiders—will join the NHL's Golden Knights, various Pac-12 tourneys and the fastest-growing league, the UFC, in Vegas. That boom traces evolving views on gambling. Given the rise of sports betting, a growing young population, an agreeable climate and all those hotel rooms, Sin City will become the new gravitational center for American sports.

THE PGA TOUR may yet wait for the Tiger Effect to take, but the WTA is already seeing the impact of the Williams sisters. Including Venus and Serena—still going strong at 38 and 37—six African-American women sit in the top 100, not least 2017 U.S. Open champ Sloane Stephens. The best American junior prospect, 14-year-old CORI (COCO) GAUFF, is black; so is Whitney Osuigwe, who at 16 is No. 15 in the international junior rankings. And tennis's current star-in-ascent, Naomi Osaka, is the daughter of a Japanese mother and Haitian father who employed what they called "the Williams blueprint." As more and more minority women make an impact, this trend will continue.

WHILE RULING in 1984 that the NCAA was acting as an illegal cartel when it banned schools from cutting their own TV deals, Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens slipped in this line: "In order to preserve the character and quality of the 'product,' athletes must not be paid." Those last five words have been an effective line of defense in preserving college sports amateurism. But that was 34 years ago, before D-I programs grossed hundreds of million of dollars apiece and defensive coordinators started making $2.5 million per year. Amid this new commerce, the idea of enforced amateurism is beyond offensive; it's such a distortion that, as any Econ101 student knows, the market will seek to correct itself. Right now, that comes in the form of clandestine payments to players and side deals with sneaker companies. In the future, a right-thinking court will reverse Stevens and rule that free market trumps free labor.

FOR ALL his endorsement lucre, Michael Jordan earned only $90.2M in salary for his entire NBA career. Compare that to STEPH CURRY, who not only makes $42M annually in endorsements, but who will also have earned $258M in salary when his contract is up in 2022. (He'll be 34.) The Warriors' guard is one of dozens of pros poised to have made nine figures in their careers, rich to the point of absurdity. Yet there's a sensible purchase available to those with this sort of wealth: a team. Look for a spate of today's stars to be like Mike and buy a majority interest in a franchise, just as Jordan has done with the Hornets. The NBA owners' meeting of tomorrow will resemble the NBA All-Star Game of today.

THE UFC has always had a problem with injured fighters pulling out of cards. But this one came with a twist: Days before Max Holloway, 26, was to defend his featherweight belt last July, he experienced flashing vision and slurred speech. The official reason his tussle with Brian Ortega was canceled: concussion-like symptoms. Holloway has not fought since. Football, of course, has been reassessed by so many fans after revelations about the high incidence of head injury. And CTE is so common in boxing that its specific variant has its own name, dementia pugilistica. While sports and head injuries collide, so far, the UFC has bobbed and weaved to avoid getting hit. The outfit is only 25 years old, so data is limited. But given the nature of a sport whose vernacular includes smashing and obliterating, MMA will have to confront the issue, well, head on.

MATT: What's your prediction on the three-man broadcast booth?

ALEX:Yeahhh, I see them dying a merciful death.

MATT: Why's that?

ALEX: They're like a conference call: They feel forced. Unnatural. You're straining to be heard, but also straining to include everyone. Lots of dead air, or awkward inter—

MATT: —awkward interruptions, you're saying—

ALEX: —right. So much so that it distracts from the actual game. [Pregnant pause.]

MATT: You agree, Jessica?

JESSICA: Agree with—

MATT: —this notion that the three-man booth will, or must, die.

JESSICA: Yeah. Though I'm focusing on the man part as much as the three part ....