Friday, April 18, 2008

A Baseball Story

Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved baseball. He thrilled to the home runs of Frank Howard, and didn't despair at the loses piled up by the Washington Senators. When he moved to San Diego in 1969, he met a new love on April 8th ... the San Diego Padres. Again despite the team's loses, hope sprang eternal, and joy was found in the slugging feats of Nate Colbert, in the pitching feats of Randy Jones, in the speed of Gene Richards, and, finally, in the sometimes winning ways the team played with HOFer Tony Gwynn in the lineup.

As a teenager, one of his first paying jobs was as a scorekeeper (who doubled as the PA announcer) for the city league softball ... triple-header nights behind a microphone and with a pen & scorebook in hand. It was fun ... and it paid decently ... but it was also an introduction to pressure. The flow of the games depended on the scorekeeper ... and the 6-hours of non-stop games never seemed to end ... literally. The pressure of those evenings would get pent up inside ... but come flowing out as nightmares ... as any and all flubs or slipups were relived from 2am to 5am.

That was me ... many years ago. Since then, I've been to many games ... major leagues, minor leagues, college, high school ... even little league, coaching my daughter, and lately connecting with friends with kids who are playing. A couple of those friends have 12-year-old sons playing their prime little league season ... and they asked me if I could help them out by being an umpire for their games. Hey, that does sound like fun ... I'm in!

Rather than commit to a first game, I decided that I wanted to go watch a game and keep a keen eye on the umps ...I know the basics, sure ... but nothing local or specific to this league, these fields, this level of play. Fate would go a different direction.

While walking onto the grounds, one of my friends saw me ... he was a bit panic'd ... and relieved to see an option ... he needed an ump for his game that started in 5 minutes ... could I do it? Sure, I'm in. I figure if they are that desparate, they'll take what they can get and I'll be a bit off the hook if things go poorly :-)

I got pointed to the shack with the gear I'd need ... shin guards, a chest protector, a mask, and a ball bag with a ball/strike counter and a brush in it. Hustling back to the field, I don the gear ... rats, the chest protector straps don't have clips ... bag it, I don't want that thing flopin' all around ... they don't protect much anyway, do they?

I got a few tips (ex. a bigger strike zone will keep the game moving and encourage the kids to swing more) ... met the coaches and the base ump ... and yelled "Play Ball" ... aaahhh, I have always wanted to do that! The first inning sailed by ... I was able to keep track of balls & strikes ... managed to keep home plate clean ... and get out of the way of a few wild pitches.

The second inning introduced me to the concept of pitches that were on the border of the strike zone ... having been reminded that the key to success for the home plate blue is consistency, I found myself learning quickly how I introduced inconsistency into my calls. I realized sometimes I was setting up inside, sometimes outside ... sometimes standing up high, sometimes crouching low ... and always feeling a twinge of guilt when a pitch was close enough that I wasn't *sure* that it was a strike ... and letting that twinge influence me to want to "even out" what felt like a possible bad call. All those demons got combated for the next 4 innings ... never letting them dominate me ... but never leaving me alone, either.

In the third inning, I got my first nick ... a pitch in the dirt got by the catcher and plunked me in the toe ... ouch! Hmmm, that reminded me that I don't have that chest protector on ... perhaps that wasn't a good decision. After the 3rd inning, I figured out that I could put the chest protector on under my sweatshirt ... ah, that works.

Besides the ubiquitous borderline ball/strike calls, my first tough call was on a play at the plate ... throw and runner ariving at the same time ... catcher catches the ball as the runner slides in ... OUT, I call. Hmmm, is that the ball rolling away from the catcher? What happened there? Yo, the coach is yelling at me! Time-out ... I'll go talk to the base ump ... and figure out a way to change my call :-)

In the fouth inning, men (boys, really) on base ... the pitcher balks ... I call "balk" ... everyone groans ... I guess they don't have balks in little league ... who knew? With a runner on third, a wild pitch gets by the catcher and the runner breaks for home and scores ... where's the ball? It's bounced up into some netting high up on the backstop ... huh? Play on, but ask the coaches later what the ruling on that should have been (note to self: ball thrown out of play, runners advance).

The game marches along at what seems like a pretty good pace ... I hear a few parents commenting on that (I guess their last game drag'd on and on and on). A moment that made me both cringe and laugh at myself (on the inside) was in the fifth inning when an inside pitch appeared to hit the batter ... I instantly called out "it hit him, take your base" ... and then when the hitter looked at me, with a bit of a surprised look on his face, I said "it did hit you, right?" ... and when he looked at me with even more surprise and said "ya", I realized my folly :-)

A 5-2 lead for the visiting team going into the 6th (and last) inning becomes a 10-2 lead with a bit of a rally and some struggling by the pitchers. I only learned that fact in retrospect ... as the game seemed much closer ... but it was easy to not pay attention to the score of the game ... I was getting the knack of "being in the moment" ... being focus'd on the play that was happening "now". But as the home team got a rally going in the bottom of the 6th, it was easy to get caught up in the excitement as a couple of runs scored and it seemed like surely one of the baserunners represented the tieing run, if not the wining run. With 2 outs, the batter hits a HIGH popup, right in front of home plate ... the catcher, who'd just caught a similar popup in foul territory, moved into position, made the call ... and flub'd it ... OUCH! You could feel all the players and parents and coaches sigh and groan ... until one of the players realizes that the batter hasn't run and there's yelling and screaming to get the ball to first base, and for the runner to run to first base all while the runner from 3rd base has already crossed the plate. Can you picture the bedlam? I run out and call the batter out at first ... which ignites the 1st base coach ... what's he saying? He's saying it's a foul ball? How could that be? Could that be? He's pointing and yelling that the catcher never touched the ball and that it spun foul ... really? Perhaps ... rats ... wait ... I heard the ball tip the catcher's hand or mitt ... I'm sure I did ... right? I'm sure, right? Sure ... I'm sure ... well, I'm sure enough ... I bark out "ball was touched in fair territory ... fair ball ... batter is out". The coach gave me a bit of a whine and a bit of a dirty look ... but quickly & respectfully backed off as the opposing team celebrated its victory. Hmmm, that was the final out of the game ... now that's a bummer.

I'm reminded of the line from Terms of Endearment ... that close to a clean getaway :-)

Was it a good call? Yes, of that I'm sure. Was it the right call? I'm not sure ... I think so ... which is why I know it was a good call ... but there's no way to be sure. I wish I'd hustled into a better position to see the catch / no-catch ... I wish I'd made an emphatic "fair ball" signal right away. I got a bit of a cold shoulder from the coaches and parents/fans of the losing team ... I think they honestly think I blew the call ... and for sure nobody did or said anything rude or disrespectful ... but it was awkward ... just a bummer ... that such a good game ended on a controversial play.

I changed out of my gear ... and hung around to chat with my friend after he had given his post-game talk to his team ... and, man, were those boys excited to win that game! That was fun to be around. My friend told me that the catcher, who turned out to be his son, told him that he did, indeed, touch the ball ... with his bare hand ... it bent one of his fingers backward and it was sore ... I believe the kid ... at least I think I do ... man, now I'm not sure of *anything*!

As I drove away, I began to calm down ... to relax ... and also to rehash the game in my mind ... and I felt a twinge of something deeply familiar ... reliving the pressure. It will be interesting to see how I sleep tonight ... I expect I'll be OK ... I'm a bigger boy now ... and ever more in love with baseball :-)


ps. It's also nice that I could go out after the game and run a couple of miles ... a time to think and reflect on who I am ... where I've been ... where I am ... and where I'm going ... and who and what I love ... on a day and a lifetime that God has blessed.

2 Comments:

Blogger Rob said...

Good grins, not often we get to read about a game from this perspective... glad you had fun!

7:54 PM  
Blogger John said...

Howard, good story. Got some good grins from me too. I'll have to tell you my umpire story some time.

John

3:39 PM  

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