Then Came Saving ‘Grace’
As a kid, one of my first paying jobs was scraping the cow manure from my uncle’s corrals.
I didn’t mind.
I got a buck an hour and was allowed to drive the John Deere. Besides, it prepared me for my life’s work as an editorialist. Some think I still shovel manure.
The slings and arrows I give and take as an opinion writer, however, never prepared me for one of life’s toughest tasks - umping fast-pitch softball for girls 11 and 12 years old.
My daughter has had to defend my honor among teammates who thought I was “stupid” because I called a couple of them out on close pitches. My mother-in-law has yelled at me from the stands for calling a borderline strike against my youngster. And I’ve almost tossed coaches out of games for complaining too much.
Before going any further, I’d warn anyone with only a passing knowledge of baseball rules to remember a prior commitment when your coach asks for volunteer umps. If, for example, you don’t know an infield fly from a sacrifice fly, stay on the sidelines. What you don’t know can hurt you (or your feelings).
Fortunately, I know what an infield fly is: It’s a pop fly to the infield with runners on first and second, and less than two outs. It’s an automatic out.
On Friday, a member of my kid’s team, a quiet girl with sandy, shoulder-length hair, unleashed baseball’s furies against me by hitting a soft line drive to second. The little second baseman dropped the ball, allowing two runs to score and inciting her two male coaches to riot because they thought I should have called an infield fly.
The assistant wanted to know if I knew the infield fly rule. He ignored me when I said I did and began shouting out the rule from the dugout. Butch and Sundance came running when I said the ball wasn’t high enough.
By now, the dads in the stands were getting into it. The coaches are jerks, said the dads from my daughter’s team; the ump is a jerk, responded the opposing dads.
Finally, the upset coaches announced they were playing the game under protest. The two not only didn’t know what an infield fly was, they also didn’t know that you can’t protest a judgment call.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
As play was about to resume, one coach continued to “chirp.” To restore order, I threatened to throw him out of the game and glared down one father clinging to the screen behind me.
At that point, the opposing team’s catcher said two words as she set up for the next pitch that made the hassle this year worth it: “Nice call.”
, DataTimes MEMO: D.F. Oliveria’s “Hot Potatoes” runs Tuesdays and Thursdays. You can comment on the items by calling (800) 344-6718 or (208) 765-7125, or by sending e-mail to daveo@spokesman.com.