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The umpire's lot is not a happy oneBy C.T. BOWEN © St. Petersburg Times, published April 15, 2001 Kill the umpire. We've all heard it. Probably even thought it, if not actually verbalized it, once or twice in the heat of a sports contest involving a favored team. Don't we all remember how the Buccaneers' chances in the 1999 season's NFC championship game ended when a replay referee overruled a call on the field and said a receiver failed to catch a pass from Shaun King? The next day the then-first-grader in our household came home reporting, "Did you know the referee got paid to make that wrong call?" Yes, I know they are compensated. Uh-uh, that's not what he meant. He was suggesting bribery. Swell, Junior and his classmates think referees are corrupt. If only the behavior were limited to children. Pop singer Jimmy Buffett got kicked out of his courtside seats at a recent Miami Heat basketball game for using profanity while encouraging the referee to call a foul. A colleague in the Times' Carrollwood office, Tim Grant, referees high school basketball games. I asked him if he ever did likewise for adult recreation leagues. No, he said, there's too big a risk of getting your butt kicked after the game. Despite these warning signs, I foolishly volunteered to umpire for my son's Little League game recently. Not even home plate. I took the easy task of umpiring the base paths. It didn't seem like a big deal; almost a convergence of my personal and professional lives. After all, they pay me to offer a strong opinion after viewing circumstances with an impartial eye. I had umpired behind the plate in the winter instructional league, a setting so relaxed I wore my own mitt to haul in the pitches missed by the catcher. And I can testify that 7-year-olds miss more balls than they catch. The spring season, though, is more competitive. Kill the umpire. Me? Probably. Before the evening was over, the opposing team complained (inaccurately) that I actually was coaching base runners from the field while umpiring, and later said I shouldn't have even been on the field because there should be only one umpire per game. News to me, considering there had been a base umpire at the six previous games. This conversation came immediately after I signaled a fly ball down the right field line as fair at the same time the home plate umpire yelled foul. The plate umpire deferred to my judgment. After the inning, I checked with another nearby adult who confirmed I had made the correct call. The aggravation of performing this thankless job is amplified by the impartiality. I couldn't cheer and congratulate my son when he made a nifty play in the field. The umpires, incidentally, are supposed to be culled from the coaching ranks of the league's other age groups. For two consecutive games, however, nobody had shown up on our field. "They're tired of getting yelled at," one coach volunteered after our game. Completely understandable. A parent from another team confessed earlier in the season he would never agree to umpire. "I would just tell them I don't know the rules," he said. Knowing the rules isn't imperative. In a recent game, the home plate umpire asked to have the coaches explain rules on foul tips. Hey, at least he asked. The feelings of disdain aren't exclusive to Little League. Consider this posting, compiled by Joel Balberman, who has been umpiring in Ontario since 1973. It appears on http://www.amateurumpire.com: "In the public mind, the umpire appears at best as a necessary evil; at worst as a Neanderthal bent upon robbing the home team of its just deserts. How else to explain the singular propensity of umpires to blow calls obvious even to those sitting in the last row of the upper deck, and to misinterpret rules known even to those who have never read a rule book?" So, it was with great interest that I observed the umpiring three nights later. There was, in fact, only one umpire that night, and calling balls and strikes was his main duty. Unfortunately, he had to rule on a close play at second base from a great distance away. My fellow coaches weren't happy. If it had gone our way, it would have been the third out of the inning. Instead, the opposing team remained at bat and scored four additional runs. Me? I didn't grouse at all. I thought he made the right call. - C.T. Bowen is editor of editorials for the Pasco Times editions of the St. Petersburg Times.
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