Date: Tue, 21 Oct 2008 14:03:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: T H <ref_sport@yahoo.com>
Subject: SUMMER BASEBALL  (PART 7)

SUMMER BASEBALL (SATURDAY)
-------------------------------------------------


DEMONS AND ANGELS


Now the temperature's really starting to rise.  It's the losers bracket
finals.  If a team loses today, they are done.

For the 1st time all week, the crowds are getting testy.  The teams are
easily agitated and on edge.  You can feel it in the air.  It can happen
when people are away from home this long.  When it's the end of the week,
and its do or die.

The committee wants the strongest umpires working today.  Logic says
tomorrow, the championships, will be a walk in the park by comparison.  The
teams tomorrow have proven they are winners.  The teams playing today have
yet to prove that.

  ***** We're working a 3-man crew today.  Phil is older than me and is at
1st base.  I am at 3rd.  A somewhat younger umpire has the game behind the
plate.  His name is Joel.  He's 22.  He deserves to be here or else Pete
and the committee would not have chosen him.  And he is good, he knows the
history of the game, carries himself respecting the game.  This is crucial
dear readers, not the history, but the respect.

Presence commands respect.  See, Joel's only problem is he doesn't project
his presence.  Therefore, he doesn't get the respect.  Let me explain
another way.

We all go to restaurants.  Some wait staff are experienced.  Enthusiasm.
Confidence.  They know the menu, they know how to work their customers.
Some others have little or no experience.  He or she does not have to tell
you they are new.  You just know it.

With experience, Joel will receive his due respect.  He will earn it.  The
same way a waiter or waitress earns a great tip.

Today, he is by design with me.  I have walked the walk.  Now maybe, just
maybe, I can talk the talk.

   *****

Joel was getting a new asshole today.  Nothing he did was right.  One of
the coaches was questioning every pitch.  Chirping from the dugout, instead
of being a real man, and coming out to complain.  And his players were
reflecting his negativity in their own actions.  The crowd was feeding on
this and becoming downright nasty.

Reminds me of Earl Weaver, the hall of fame manager of the Baltimore
Orioles.  Weaver would pick on you just because.  Period.  He got thrown
out of games as he handed his lineup card to the umpires.  He got thrown
out of games before they even started.  He got tossed after the 1st pitch.
Earl the Pearl.  One of a kind.

Anyway, it was time for me to step in.  I suggested to the coach he pick on
ME for a change.  I booted a call on a big play at 2nd.  I called his
runner out on a slide, and he should have been safe.  If anyone, he should
be crawling up my ass.  I knew the importance of the game and did not want
this to escalate.  I thought to myself, this will be fun!




So he took me up on my offer.  He questioned my ancestry all the way back
to Adam.  He knew my vehicle and he questioned why I would drive that piece
of shit.  He tried Earl Weaver's pet trick...he didn't like the color of
our shirts.  Or the color of my hair.  And the icing?  He was complaining
to me about getting fucked all over the place.  Fuck this.  Fuck that.  He
was just plain getting fucked.

He didn't realize I was walking him towards center field as he ranted and
raved.  I listened patiently with my arms at my side.  By contrast, his
arms were flailing everywhere.  His face was a crimson red.  I expected to
see him burst like a balloon.

As I led him past 2nd base, simple eye contact with all the players within
earshot told them to get far away.  I heard all sorts of giggling going on
behind us as we continued.

Finally we stopped, as he was having trouble catching his breath.  I asked
him if he was through.  He mumbled yes.  So I looked him squarely in the
eye.  I said these simple 4 words, with the presence to back it up...

"Shut the fuck up!"

End of discussion and end of problems the rest of the game.  It was
hilarious to see him have to chug all the way back to his dugout.

When Pete, our supervisor , wasn't laughing about it, he was reaming my ass
for my choice of words.  MY choice of words?  And wishing I had stepped in
sooner.

This coach won today on the scoreboard.  Means he'll play tomorrow.  Hope
he's got an angel pitching...coz he may need all the heavenly help he can
get.  Because I'll be there.

*****

Phil decided to change back at the hotel and immediately left .

Joel was almost in tears when we went to our cars to change.  I asked Pete
to make sure no one got close to us in the parking lot.  He did.  With the
exception of another young man.

He came closer.  His eyes were focused only on Joel.  He brought us bottled
waters to drink.  He stayed quiet until Joel finished changing.  Then they
hugged.  And kissed.  And cried.

Joel had faced his demon this day and now had his angel with him.  I waited
til they drove away.  I nodded to Pete, then drove away as well.

Will I have an angel waiting back at the hotel?

 ******


Yes my baby will be there...


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