By Ben Joravsky
One coach at the park–I’ll call him Steve–screeches like a deranged bird at every call that goes against him. In his back pocket he carries a wrinkled copy of the league rules, and he’s always ready to argue with the ump, no matter how hot the sun.
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And then there’s a third coach–OK, it’s me–who fell into the habit of calling the outcome of a play before the ump had a chance to. I thought I could trick him into calling things my way. I got chastised by an ump, felt humiliated, and promised never to do it again. (I swear.)
“The funny thing is that every coach has his explanation. They’ll tell you that they’re arguing for the kids because it’s just not fair to work so hard and then lose a game ’cause of an umpire’s call. But come on, it’s never about the kids. It’s about the coach’s ego. We tell the coaches, you have to live with the calls. Deal with it. More important–use them as lessons to teach the kids. The ump’s human. He makes mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes go against you. You’re not always going to get your way. There isn’t always a remedy for every wrong. Deal with it, and deal with it as a good sport.”
He stays close to the game by umping. “I’ve been doing it since 1998, and I love it,” he says. “Baseball’s in my blood–I’d miss it if I had to give it up. I ump in parks all over town. For me, the season starts in March and goes through August. I do at least 90 or so games a year–north side, west side, south side, you name it. I’d do more, but I’ve got a wife and children to think of.”
The Cardinals came to bat, but the game had to be delayed as three teenagers strolled through the outfield.
The innings went fast: pop outs, groundouts, strikeouts. The jogger returned, the two pit bulls growled at an approaching collie, the woman closed her book and shut her eyes.
