Softball Articles

Eassay on Umpires

Now that I'm playing catcher I understand the nefarious domicile of the umpire. I'm relegated to the filthy pit behind the plate. It might provide a great perspective of the game, but it's completely void of glamour. I feel as though I've been kidnapped by Bigfoot and held hostage in his den. The position holds the din and odor and acoustics of a black bear's cave.

Everybody hates umpires and now I know why. They are nasty creatures fortunate to wander the free society. They hang out together; what else? I think I saw one once in public - at a tire store. I just had a sense that the guy across from me in Bermuda shorts was an umpire on his day off. I can't explain why. Maybe it was the way you could see the black hair follicles subdermally transparent on his thigh; maybe it was the shape of his ears. Peering over the edge of a People magazine, I saw that he'd picked up the pink box of sugar cubes from the coffee stand and was rearranging the little food blocks with his stubby index. What a foul man.

Last night's ump was particularly uncouth - dour, greasy, fidgety, irascible, aloof, wrong. A figure appeared behind the cage - an apparent companion of his. The ump says, "I wanna get outta here; I'm feelin' lucky tonight." Then he lays out a large lasso gas field sent from bad lunch. I'm captive in his waft. Last week's ump kept spitting at my feet as I crouched between the batter's bad side and the ump's clutches. Spraying nervous spittle through his chipped teeth forming a mist of fear like morning dew on a black widow's web. And yet, as catcher, I'm responsible for developing a rapport with these possums. If not, my team gets every bad call at best. Ump is the root word for slump, bump, chump, sump, hump, lump, and dump. These guys are the boils on the skin of humanity. If they go on strike it never works - good riddance!

I've been told there's a room behind home plate where the umpires meet before big league games to rub mud from the Delaware River on six dozen balls. I've been in the area behind home plate. The only rooms are a men's room and a broom closet. I don't think they're in the broom closet, and I'm not sure it's Delaware mud.

By John (The Worm) Wood - Co-Founder of the Flying Mangos Softball Team
* Flying Mangos Team Site *