Zero to sixty in 0.1 seconds

Yesterday was another of the hated five-game umpiring shifts. It was also at one of the fields that has no shade. It also involved two of my least favorite teams to umpire. They both had doubleheaders. It was a recipe for a meltdown.

As meltdowns go, it was pretty tame; still, I'm not proud of my blowing up and I'm also not saying the players involved didn't deserve some shouting at. Mostly I point to it as a reason five-game shifts are generally not a good idea.

It wasn't really a big deal to start with. There is a notation in the rules of this league that if someone hits an over-the-fence home run, they don't have to run the bases, we just count the runs and move on. That's all well and good in theory, but in practice when there are already runners aboard they too just leave the field rather than come around to score. So in game four of the day, someone on this team I don't like very much hits one out with runners on and doesn't run the bases. Later on they belatedly complain that I have the score wrong, they say they have one more than my tally shows. We trace that to the aforementioned homer, which I tallied as a three-run shot and they claimed was a slam. I let them have the run, because this tends to happen: baserunners see the ball hit and just leave the field, while I watch the ball to make sure it clears the fence, then tally the runs, and if one or more runners is already in the dugout by that point they don't get counted.

I'm six hours-plus into the shift by this point, they're pissy, and I have no patience. "This is what happens when you choose not to run the bases," I say, loudly, in response to more bitching. "Someone leaves the field before they're counted! That's the risk you run!" This is misinterpreted, of course, as me telling them none of their runs-on-homers count and there's arguments about how that's not how it worked last time and it starts going in circles.

After the inning, I go to their dugout again to try and smooth things over and better explain, but instead three of the team's number double down on hostility. "Show me in the rulebook where it says we have to run the bases!" "You should just know how many runners are on all the time!" "None of the other umps ever take runs off the board because of this!" So instead of smoothing things over I shout back. "This is how you want to play it? I've been out here for 6½ hours, imagine how much patience I have for shit like this! Just don't leave the damn field before you're counted and there's no problem, you got it?!"

I considered going to the adjacent field and swapping games with the new guy who's working that field, but dismiss the thought as unprofessional and unfair to him. I stuck it out. One of the problem guys hit another home run later on and turned to me and pointed to the fence and said "that's a home run," condescending as he walked to the dugout. In their second game he was on base when someone else hit one out and did the same thing, and I said, "Dude, are you trying to get thrown out of the game? 'Cause I'll oblige you." He shut up and later came up to me and pretended he was only saying those things to make sure I had the run count right, which is undermined by the fact that he never mentioned the run count, but hey, he's trying to smooth things over in his own CYA kind of way and I just want the game to be fucking over, so I say fine, all good, play on.

There was also shouting and hostility about a play involving the infield fly rule. This same team was batting, runners at 1st and 2nd with no outs, and the batter popped one up. "Infield fly, batter's out!" The defense let the ball drop and the baserunners—not knowing the infield fly rule, apparently—try to advance and the defense—not knowing the infield fly rule, apparently—try to claim a double play because they threw the ball to first and stepped on it, thinking they got an out because the runner didn't tag up. "Not how it works," I said, and explained that all the infield fly rule means is that the batter is out and thus the runners aren't forced to move. That's all. Play is live, runners can do what they like, and tagging up would only apply if the ball had been caught. More yelling, more bitching, more overheard comments from the dugout about how I cheated them out of something. More of my patience worn away forever.

We also ran way late in the latter half of the day because of the other team I don't like to ump, who is incapable of starting on time or moving the game along at a normal pace, which is bad enough when they only have one game and is twice as bad when they play two. This is mostly because of one person, who is on the autism spectrum, but everyone who's been around a while knows that trying to rush them along is counter-productive because you risk a shouty delay of anger and sometimes crying. The opposing team, understandably, wants their whole time and doesn't want me to cut the game short because of the other side; I think that's a fair request, even though I would prefer to end the game on time anyway as a disincentive to that delaying team to keep pretending that it's fine to make things run late. So instead of wrapping things up at 7:30 like my colleague on the other field was, I still had half a game to go and wasn't done and leaving the field until nearly 8:30pm, tired, hungry, frustrated, sunburned, and a little upset with myself for losing my cool.

Wasn't entirely bad, though. The earlier portion of the day involved interactions with teams and players I do like, so for two games I had a good time. Third game was still OK. Wheels fell off after that.

I'm not on again until next Sunday as summer schedules are starting to wrap up, though I do have a message I've yet to answer about filling in for someone for one game tonight. Haven't decided yet. I can always use another $50, and it is just one, but I still have the headache from yesterday going. We'll see.

Tagged Umping, Softball, Posted on August 10, 2026 at 4:42PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Yer outtaheah!!

Umpiring has been fairly routine of late, with fewer shifts than the plethora that I was assigned in May and June and those I did have being mostly unremarkable. But yesterday deviated from the norm when I ejected a player.

This makes four times that I've thrown someone out of a game in, what, eight years, I guess, if we don't count that year when nobody did much of anything. That's not many, and I probably should have tossed a couple of others that I let continue despite bad behavior. Point is, there is rarely cause for that sort of thing, and in this case, if the incident had occurred earlier in the day I might have let it go.

It was late in game four of the day, I'd been there for going on six hours, and it was playoffs (ergo a little more intensity on the part of some players). My patience had worn thin. We were playing at a field that has unusual boundaries, which is to say that in lieu of a fence the outfield is bordered by foliage. For the most part, this is manageable; we lose a lot more softballs there than elsewhere, but there's understanding among all involved what happens when a ball goes into the bushes. But there is also a huge tree that is mostly in foul ground but overhangs into fair territory in deepest left field, which has been a point of contention from time to time because umps who get assigned there that haven't worked that field before don't know how to handle it when a ball is hit and that tree deflects a fair ball. The written rule says that anything that hits the tree is a foul ball, but nobody likes that. (There's a similar rule at another field, but in that case the tree hangs over first base, it isn't deep in the outfield, so it's easier to tell from home plate what a ball might hit; also, it's thicker, so more likely that there'll be actual interference. It's easier to accept such a rule there.) Every new season at this field—and the majority of teams that play there are returnees from way way back—it gets a mention, and my solution has been to say to everyone, "OK, no one likes the idea of a ball hit into the fair side of the tree being called foul, so here's what we'll do: First, the tree will not be a factor unless it interferes with a ball in play. If a ball is hit at/near it and nothing is changed by the existence of the tree, it's a non-factor. On the other had, if a batted ball hits the tree and changes direction or otherwise impedes a fielder from making a play, it will be called dead and either ruled a ground-rule double or foul ball depending on what side of the line the ball is on when it hits." That gets uniform approval every time.

So here we are, late in game four—which I was not initially scheduled to be at, it was supposed to be a split-shift between me and another ump, but he'd called in sick—and this guy, I'll call him Vance (not his name), was on deck when his teammate hit one that barely grazed the tree and came down in left field to be played cleanly by the outfielder. I let it play on as a live ball as grazing the branch didn't affect anything. Vance insisted that it should be a dead ball, and got kind of worked up about it even though it would have changed nothing, the batter ended up with a double. I explained that there was no effect on the ball or the play, no need to invoke any weird tree rule. He didn't like that. Then he stepped in to hit, and between pitches he continued to complain about it; I told him, "STOP. We're done with that." Vance then hit an almost identical fly ball that may or may not have also nicked a leaf of the tree, proceeded unhindered, and was caught by the left fielder. I called Vance out and he lost his shit.

"IT HIT THE DAMN TREE!"

Instantly, I tossed him. "OUT OF THE GAME!" Van started to argue, I didn't let him, I repeated, "OUT. OF. THE. GAME." He collected his stuff from the dugout and stormed off to his car and drove away at speed. One factor in my instantaneous reaction may have been that Vance had been in my face a bit the week before for an utterly stupid reason, complaining that I hadn't given him enough time between innings to practice throws; I never give time for that purpose, if teams do infield practice between innings it's because for some reason not everyone else is ready to go yet. Once everyone is on field at their positions, it's time to go. I dismissed Vance without comment on that day, just ignored him rather than fuel an argument, but it was in the back of my mind when he was bitching about the tree. Not that the tree-bitching wasn't enough. Still, had it happened at, say, 1:30, before I'd been out in the sun all afternoon and before I'd had a number of players complain about balls and strikes or whathaveyou and before my feet started to hurt, it's likely I would have just given Vance a more formal warning rather than eject him. Things build up, you know.

Fortunately, his teammates were apologetic and didn't try to excuse Vance's behavior. For the rest of the shift I was antsy, gnashing my teeth a little, and just willing outs to be made so the game would end. When we were finally done, everyone was nice, a fairly standard end-of-game parting of ways. I started packing up the gear when some players from the third game of the day, who had stuck around to watch and drink beer and keep their social day going, came up to me wide-eyed and wanted to know what happened with Vance.

I like these folks, they're among my favorites to ump; a few of them even play against the Spuds in the Ballard Wednesday night league, so I kind of know them from different angles, if you will. So after I finished packing up I sat down on the bleachers and gave them the details, which also allowed me some valuable decompression. I could vent remaining steam and get some good feedback and support, and half an hour or so later I was much more relaxed and could head home sans teeth-gnashing.

For good or ill, Vance's team won that game in an upset, so they'll be there next Sunday for the playoff finals. I'm not looking forward to it, but I'll just ignore Vance as much as is reasonable and hope he doesn't make any more trouble.

Also, it was another full Sunday on the field and thus today was another of me being wiped out, nursing a headache, and not getting as much done as I wanted to. Alas.

Tagged Umping, Posted on July 20, 2026 at 11:36PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Bits and pieces

All-Star Game AQI: Very Unhealthy

So, there've been a few things I've been meaning to post about, but time and energy haven't been forthcoming for it. So a disjointed one today and hopefully back to real posts over the weekend(?).

• ITEM: The MLB All-Star Game was a dud for the 7th consecutive year. I don't know exactly what to suggest for de-dudifying the All-Star Game, other than doing away with the unconscionable home-run derby tiebreaker that marred last year's ASG (some of the best ASGs have been extra-inning affairs, which can never happen again so long as that stupid rule exists). But it would be in baseball's interest to tweak some things. As a friend of mine put it last night, in a way it's amazing anyone gets any hits at all in these games, since every pitcher is elite and they're only in the game very briefly. And this time around, the National League team barely had any, with Juan Soto notching a base hit in the 4th and nothing else until PCA got a hit in the 8th and Otto Lopez lined one in the 9th. One walk in the first, one in the seventh. Zippo otherwise in a year when the NL is far and away the superior league in terms of team strength (of course, the ASG is all about individuals, where there's more parity). Meanwhile, the American League team plated three in the first inning and that was effectively it for the game, after that just a solo homer from Miguel Vargas in the 8th that went by in a blink. We were wondering if this game would set a record for most strikeouts, but no; that happened a few years back in another dud.

  Other than changing the selection process to better choose the participants, I don't know how to fix this, or even if it needs to be fixed, but there are a couple of things I'd like to see beyond obliterating the HR Derby tiebreaker. One, mandate that the starting pitcher pitch at least two innings unless he gets hurt or unless he gets lit up. Then it's actually a bigger deal to be named starter than to just be an opener in a bullpen game. Two, no more mid-game interruptions—in Bud Selig's day we'd get mid-game delays to make a speech or something, these days it's a delay for some sort of stunt or performance like it's a miniature football halftime show. This year it was a video of a bunch of kids riding their bikes to a ballgame followed by real kids riding bikes onto the field, I think as some sort of homage to the film The Sandlot. Also midgame fireworks that flooded the ballpark with particulates and haze. Do that shit before the game or don't do it at all.

  Maybe the biggest problem, though, isn't the game itself but the broadcast of the game. It's hard to follow the game as it's being presented to us. Fox Sports has taken to interviewing players—including, this time, both the pitcher and catcher at the same time—while they are actively playing the game, which, OK, can be entertaining in spots but generally is pointless and has to be distracting for the players, in addition to being a sideshow from the game itself. The commentators have interviewed players after they come out of the game forever, that's fine (so long as we can still see what's happening on the field) and less intrusive. But I'd do away with players taking earpieces with them out to the field to chat with Joe Davis and John Smoltz, or whomever takes over play-by-play duty in the future. Not unrelatedly, the Fox crew doesn't reliably let us know when players come into the game, and there are a ton of substitutions going on after the third inning of an ASG (elected starters have to play three frames); many fans are wanting to see "their guy" play, and sometimes we don't know until a ball is hit to his position and we see the guy make a play. "Hey, my guy is in! Wonder how long he's been out there. Could've been two or three innings for all we know." The broadcasters are too into doing their goofy/inane Q&A with players as they're trying to play to really pay attention to much else. We also should get more in the way of graphics and info on the All-Star players; you get some with the starters as the lineups are announced, but a lot of these guys are unfamiliar to the audience outside of their home markets, it'd be nice for the casual fan to see why, say, rookie Tristian Peters made the squad instead of just wondering amongst themselves as we did, "hey who's that White Sox guy, what's his deal?" Do a little graphical info dump when new players enter the game. And John Smoltz is his own category of problem, he's just terrible as a commentator whether it's the ASG or a playoff game or anything else.

  We enjoyed mocking the thing here, though.

• ITEM (related): Another quote from Craig. From the "this date in baseball history" section of Craig Calcaterra's newsletter today: "1909 — Ed Summers of the Detroit Tigers allows only seven hits and pitches all 18 innings of a 0-0 tie—the game was called due to darkness—with the Washington Senators. It's the longest scoreless game in AL history. Yet, somehow, it was still far more compelling than the 2026 All-Star Game."
• ITEM: People are dumb, and people with fireworks are super dumb. My umpiring shifts for Capitol Hill games have been/are being moved elsewhere because some idiot set off fireworks on the Cap Hill field's synthetic infield and damaged it to the point of unplayability. That whole set of athletic fields is in need of resurfacing, yes, but until a week-and-a-half ago it was still plenty usable. This happened to a lesser extent last year at the Ballard fields where the Spuds play and we had to navigate our play around a hole between first and second base. Can we just be done with fireworks? They're pretty, but the particulates, the smoke, the noise, the fire hazard, is it really worth it? Drone shows are less damaging.
• ITEM: Spuds done for ’26: Speaking of the Spuddies, we played our playoff game yesterday and it did not go well. Full post on that coming later on, but we were trounced.
• ITEM: The health care system in this country is a joke, part 2,352,091. I had my annual checkup today, and I had to go to a new doctor for it. My prior doc doesn't take the insurance I have now, which I switched to because Republicans made the premiums on the insurance I had the last couple of years unaffordable. So I had to go through the rigamarole of again finding a new primary care doc, which I did a couple months ago and today was the next available appointment I could comfortably swing. So I find my way to the new place, go to check in, and am told this doctor isn't taking new patients, but we can do my annual check. "Wait, what?" This didn't compute with me. "If she isn't taking new patients, why am I here? Why did this appointment even get accepted in the first place?" The reply was gobbledygook that made no sense to me, but I was already there and my Rx is going to run out in a couple weeks, so I said fine, we'll do this and then I'll go through the whole process yet again next time I need to see someone. The nurse/med tech guy was sympathetic when he was getting my vitals and such, and after he left the exam room I heard him explain to the doctor in detail about the scheduling fuckup, and in the end the doc agreed to take me on anyway. It may or may not work out well, I don't really have a sense of her as someone I can relate to. The prior doctor was a good fit, I wish I could've kept seeing her, but we live in the US of A, where everything medical is dictated by what insurance you can afford, because people are stupid and keep electing Republicans.
• ITEM: Felon47 went on TV with his tin-foil hat. The alleged President of the United States, a convicted felon and perpetrator of several frauds that were settled out of court as well as many that have yet to be charged, the most grandiose and prolific liar on Earth, made a "speech" about made-up election conspiracies tonight. He distorted intelligence that we already knew about to make it sound (to him, anyway) like there were rampant issues with foreign operatives that are not the actual issues with foreign operatives which benefit him, he made already-debunked claims of mass-voting by non-citizens. He whined and grievanced his way through a pathetic spectacle intended to do two things: Create support for his pet voter-suppression bill that as it stands has no chance of passing either house of Congress, because he wants to be able to cheat in elections with impunity; and take the news media's focus off of the Iran debacle, gas prices, oncoming economic calamity, the outrageous things said by his unqualified criminal lackey nominees in confirmation hearings going on this week, his Air Force One fuckups, the reflecting pool bullshit, ICE murdering people and getting away with it, RFK Jr.'s direct responsibility for both screwworm and parasites in our lettuce (and the need for me to have gotten a measles vaccination today), deaths in DHS custody, the embarrassing NATO summit, his petulant refusal to sign a bipartisan housing bill that became law anyway (which he may not know), his staff getting caught using inside info to make Kalshi bets, his flip-flopping Strait of Hormuz "policies", a judge slapping him down hard on his "settlement" with the IRS, the Republican push for an unconscionable increase in military funding, his and Pete Hegseth's various war crimes, his illegal harassment of journalists, and the evergreen scandal of the Epstein Files. We can't wait for this maniac's term to run out, we need to elect as may Democrats to Congress as possible, by margins too big for him to cheat against, and remove him ASAP.

Tagged Baseball, MLB, Umping, Softball, Politics, Republicans, President VonClownstick, Health, Craig Calcaterra, Posted on July 16, 2026 at 8:51PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Umpire angst

Yesterday was another five-game Sunday for your friendly neighborhood umpire, only it wasn't quite in my friendly neighborhood. Usually on Sundays I get assigned the park that is, in fact, nearest my neighborhood; close enough to comfortably bike there if I so choose, which I have on occasion. No, this shift was in my old neighborhood, the first Seattle neighborhood I ever lived in atop Queen Anne hill.

The hill has changed a great deal since I lived there, but it's still a terrific little community within the city. What hasn't changed much is the West Queen Anne park, with its three ballfields and playground. That's where I spent my day, field number one, which thankfully has shade over home plate for most of the afternoon.

It wasn't as hot as the previous Sunday, about ten degrees (Fahrenheit) cooler, so in that respect it wasn't as bad as last week. Nevertheless, eight hours plus is a long time for me to be out there umping, and as expected, by the time I was five hours in I was getting cranky.

While the first game included a few people I like and the second featured a team I've become rather fond of, game three was with two teams I didn't know. New to the league and/or new to me, they were a little on the too-competitive-for-my-taste end of the scale and there was a fair amount of weirdness in the game. Add to the weirdness was the fact that we were behind schedule by 20 minutes as it was, thanks to the first game going off the rails in the seventh inning with the then-losing-but-ultimately-winning team plating 11 runs and forcing a bottom half of the inning; that hosed the schedule for the rest of the day.

Anyway, there were a few arguments in that third game, none of which lasted long but also none of which I was sure I was on the right side of given the circumstances. When there's only one ump working a game there are bound to be things that fall outside one's visual field, and I was getting tired and cranky anyway, so by the time we got an hour and ten minutes into our eighty-five allotted minutes of gametime, I had to call a conditional last inning—though we were only going into the 6th, it would be the final frame unless this top half went by in under five minutes. It did not, so when the bottom was completed, I called an end to the game and some of the players were pissed. "But we started 20 minutes late!" "You didn't call 'last inning!'" "What the fuck, man?" I had zero patience left and my replies showed it. "Yes, and if we continued we'd be at least thirty minutes late for the next one." "I absolutely did, you just weren't paying attention." "Say that again, see if it helps your cause."

We moved on, but as the teams were clearing out of their respective dugouts I felt a need to extend an apology for the sake of keeping peace within the league if nothing else, saying sorry for the sharp tone, this wasn't my best game and I'm a little pissed with myself about a couple things and it's leaking out. Half true, half CYA.

The final two included a doubleheader with a team two guys I know from Cap Hill games were subbing for, so I had some friendly faces there. It went OK, but I was beat. By game five of the day I could barely muster enough energy/motivation to jog down toward first base to make calls, I stayed in the shade and hoped nothing was too close half the time.

My fellow ump working the opposite QA field got the short end of the stick in the sense that he had to work the field with no shade for the first three-plus games, but then one of the teams scheduled for his fifth game didn't show up, so he got to declare a forfeit and bug out early. He could have come over and been a base ump for my game, but I don't begrudge him for taking off. Five-gamers are brutal, even for a twenty-something punk like him. (Kidding, I don't think he's a punk. Barely know the guy at all, really.)

As I was returning our gear to the office, I ran into another ump who had the games at my regular Sunday spot and asked him how it went and I learned that I'd been shifted to QA for the day because he had newbies to train and the schedule worked best to do that at Northacres. Huh, OK. Nothing against my fellow ump there, but he's relatively new himself and maybe the youngest guy on the staff. I later looked over the rest of the assignments for Sunday and saw that every field except QA had trainees.

Used to be, I trained a lot of new umps. Then the owner of the business came down to check out one of my trainee games and undercut everything I said the the new guy and I told him off, not knowing who he was. Oops. (On the other hand, if you ask me he wasn't helping the new guy at all and I was prevented from doing so myself.) Since then, what do you know, I don't get trainees anymore. OK, that's their business and all, but I kind of resent it; teaching is one of my roads-not-taken and I enjoyed training the new guys, I think I was good at it. But whatever, their loss.

Anyhow, after I got home I was completely wiped out and nursing a headache; I watched the afternoon's Mariner game and crashed hard, then slept away a goodly chunk of today. Spent the rest of the day lounging on the balcony reading and dozing. These long Sunday shifts do me in for far too long, I shouldn't accept them anymore, at least not more than once in a while. Next week I'm back to my normal spot and it's only four games, so that's good. And I have a relatively small schedule of games during the week too, which will be a welcome little break.

Between the long Sundays; the fact that I as one of the senior, seasoned, most popular umps is barred from training newbies; and the fact that I am thirty years older than most everyone else on field staff (and probably older than everyone in the office too), I have been wondering again if I'm much longer for this gig. We'll see. I think the thought will pass, I'll get over my age-related insecurities, and keep on doing it as long as I feel fit enough to and they keep asking me back.

But no more  five-game Sundays, maybe.

Tagged Umping, Aging, Posted on June 23, 2026 at 12:15AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Umpire diary

Last night I had a three-game umpiring shift at Cap Hill starting less than 24 hours after the five-gamer at Northacres the day before ended. Because I'm the old man of the league staff, I don't bounce back from those brutal five-gamers like the other umps do and I was thus at less-than-100% and would rather not have been working. My feet hurt before we even got going. (Though that last probably had more to do with me wearing the wrong shoes. Those need more insoles.)

Still, it wasn't a bad night. In what might be a first, the many people sprawled all over the field when I was setting up moved out of the way on their own accord, not one of them required cajoling of any kind. Then my first game featured a bunch of players I like and who were happily bantering with me and each other the whole game even though it was a lopsided affair in which the losing side only avoided a shutout with one run in the final frame. It's good that the earlier game featured those folks and wasn't close because of the usual problem of the sun setting directly in my line of sight from behind home plate; on a few pitches/plays I simply could not see. During the worst of it I only half-jokingly said to the pitchers, "I'll warn you right now, I'm just guessing on these." On one pitch I just flat out said, "I couldn't see it, so ball one. It has to be something." Apparently it was a pretty good pitch, if the reaction from the (very understanding) pitcher is anything to go by.

It occurred to me between innings that what we really need at that field is a giant tarp, maybe 60 feet wide and 20 tall, strung between the center/left-center field light poles. Preferably with a mechanized mount and a sort of pulley system and a remote control to shift it up and down as needed when the sun sets. That shouldn't be so hard to put together, right?

Game two turned out to be a mere scrimmage as the favored team only had seven players show up and thus had to forfeit. So instead we did a little mixing and matching of players to fill out two full squads and did six innings of practice; not ideal, but hey, no stakes on a playoff night means no arguments, so I'll take it.

The final game was 180º from the first, a back-and-forth affair that ended 21-19 after a reversal of fortune in the bottom of the 6th. It was also interrupted by (a) soccer shenanigans, including soccer players clumsily shoving their goal structure through the middle of our field because they couldn't maneuver it around; (b) a small child throwing a tennis ball into our outfield over and over again for his dog to fetch until someone finally found the kid's parent/supervising grownup; and (c) a dude on a scooter crossing back and forth through the field, once perhaps not knowing he was in the way, but subsequent times, apparently, just to be an asshat. We didn't finish until 11:15.

No rules or call debates last night either, unlike Sunday afternoon when I had a guy whine about the arc of pitches being somehow insufficient because of not just height but angle, which is not a thing (that's what the strike zone is for) and someone else claim that baserunners who advanced on a sacrifice fly had both left their bases too early and should have been called out. (a) I know from lots of experience that you simply cannot watch more than one baserunner at a time with a sac fly to see when they leave their respective bases, and (b) that's not how outs work. The complainer did make a proper appeal at one of the bases, but it was the one I was not paying the most attention to since it wasn't the run-scoring possibility, so when I signaled "safe" (i.e. he didn't leave early) I was less certain than had they appealed at third, but since the complaint was about both of them I knew it wasn't really based in fact so I just ignored all further protest and moved on. Don't test me on five-game days.

Today I feel much better rested and will not make the shoe mistake again, so when I go to do tonight's single game it should be smoother sailing. It also won't be at Cap Hill, so crazy antics will be at a minimum.

 

Tagged Umping, Softball, Posted on June 16, 2026 at 5:49PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Potpourri

The metaphor isn't subtle. Americans, represented on the left, and the Republican Party, represented on the right.

Seems like a lot went on in the world this past weekend, but did it really? Let's see...

• White House announces war in Iran is over: Except it's not, at least not yet. All we really know is that there's a "memo of understanding" that includes a "cease-fire" and a 60-day timeline for a full agreement to be reached. Whatever documentation that has been agreed upon is still secret. Felon47 says we'll see it after a "signing ceremony" on Friday, which strikes me as more hyperbole since this is reportedly not a peace agreement but an agreement to discuss a peace agreement. A thing about which we've heard before that turned out to be baseless. So I'll believe it when I see the text and get confirmation from someone not affiliated with this corrupt and dishonest White House that all parties are on board with it. Regardless, it will shock me and most everyone who's been paying any attention at all if the end result of this fiasco is remotely close to what was the status quo before Felon47 as Fraudster45 torched the previous diplomatic agreement with Iran. No matter how he spins this, the alleged president undertook this deadly adventure for no sane reasons and achieved only negative results.
• Alleged president celebrates 80th birthday as if it's his 8th: Last year the toddler-in-chief held a military parade for himself that required massive repair to the DC road infrastructure after it was done. Almost no one attended and he fell asleep in the middle of it. This year he hosted corporately-sponsored brutality on public land, the White House lawn, where 14 modern-day gladiators-for-hire, decked out in faux-patriotic wardrobe, beat the shit out of each other in perhaps the most spot-on metaphor for the entire Felon47 regime. This was a crass, corrupt, likely illegal event which Felon47 and his sons have a financial stake in and which financially benefits corporate executives who will be expected to return the favor, yes. But it was also a spotlit image of Felon47’s id. Brutal violence as entertainment, bloodsport under advertising banners, all on grounds he does not own and does not have rights to use for profit. It combined almost all elements of the man's persona: Violence for violence's sake; grift and profiteering; spectacle, glitz, and "showmanship"; abuse of public property for the sake of flexing his own power; propaganda; mob-like dealmaking/extortion; and above all, a belief that brute force (and the threat thereof) is the only power that matters.
• American idiot leaves for G7: Felon 47 departed for Europe and a meeting of the G7 nations, a summit at which the other heads of state will have to find a way to tolerate his presence. As articulated by Ned Price, a State Department spokesman, “The bar for success at a multilateral summit like this is quite low during this administration.” Price elaborated to define success for the U.S. as the president "avoiding a massive blowup either in person or on social media." Summit host Emmanuel Macron is choosing the butter-him-up tactic, choosing to flatter Felon47’s ego to either smooth things over in general or as a means of manipulation for whatever good thing the rest of the G7 wants to achieve. I put the likelihood of Price seeing his bar for success met at maybe 35%.
• Ump works 8½ hours in the hot sun: On the micro scale, I had a five-game umpiring shift yesterday, a Sunday afternoon that reached 90° Fahrenheit, during which there are no breaks and only sporadic shade until about 6pm. As expected, by game five I was worn down, cranky, hungry, and good and ready to go home, but at least there weren't many points of conflict throughout the day. Just a couple of stupid things about balls and strikes that I never have patience for on a normal day. And now I've got to go out and do three more games tonight, and tonight's contests are playoffs. Hopefully, nobody amps up their machismo for them. I've been doing a whole lot of umping these past few weeks, and largely that's fine, but the five-gamers do make me question some of my life choices.

That's all I have time for right now. Ittekimasu.

Tagged Politics, Umping, Republicans, President VonClownstick, Posted on June 15, 2026 at 5:35PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Lemonade from lemons

Last night my softball team, the Smiling Potatoes of Death, played another game and once more got to play a full seven innings without being mercy ruled. You might think this is a celebratory event, continuing our unprecedented streak of non-mercy-rule-shortened games, but the only reason it wasn't shortened was because our umpire, the newly-christened Worst Umpire in the World, did not know what the score was.

I mean, we'll take it. We never like being told we only get four or five innings to play. But it was hard to enjoy once again, because of the ridiculous officiating.

We played against a team that is made up mostly of players I know from my Northacres ump shifts on Sundays, so it's not like we had no fun at all. And, most likely, I am more sensitive to the atrocious umpiring than the rest of my team is because I, as an ump myself, am so much more in tune with just how very bad this dude was at his job. (I'm by no means a perfect ump, I make plenty of mistakes, but not like this guy. I know the rules, for one thing, and if I'm not sure of something or I know I've blown a call I'll own it.)

Like a couple of weeks ago, I was only partly successful in holding my tongue during the game. While I did not attempt to give this guy a seminar on what the rulebook says about the batters' box, I did tell him that he had to actually, you know, make it known to the players beyond the batter that he was calling someone out for any reason, even if it is a made-up "violation" of a rule. When it seemed there was a missing baserunner, we had to ask him what was going on; he said he'd called someone out for stepping out of the box, and I told him that "none of us knew that," to which he replied, "that's not my fault."

"YES, IT IS." I said. "YOU'RE THE UMPIRE."

I also yelled to him that he had not called an out-of-play ball as being out of play and allowed an illegal home run. I also made reference while batting to his quiet "humf" noise to call a strike call as insufficient. I also did several nonverbal things that no doubt revealed my displeasure with the umpire's performance. At one point it became clear that my co-captain was a hair's breadth away from making a visit to the mound (I was pitching) to keep me from getting ejected. And yet, I really was holding back.

But after the game was over for a while, I began to change my attitude. Too late for this game, of course, but for next week and then on, I will not be voicing or expressing clear displeasure with the Seattle Parks & Rec umpires no matter how absurd their job performance. Instead, I will appreciate it. I will probably even laugh.

These guys provide a service to the league I umpire for by being so incredibly bad. My work league is, after all, considerably more expensive to play in than is a season of SP&R softball, so a vast disparity in officiating quality can only help. The rules we use are better, the time limit on games is longer, and the officiating is far and away better, giving, hopefully, a proportionate value for the higher fees. I don't know all of the umps that share in my work league; we always have some turnover and I'm not allowed to train the newbies any more, so it's possible we have a lemon or two in the mix. But I feel safe in postulating that the worst of us is an order of magnitude better than the best ump working an SP&R game. (I think we had the top of SP&R's heap last week and he was merely inoffensive.)

It occurs to me that I'm beginning to repeat myself a bit, having written some of this same stuff two games back, so I'll move on.

Oh, we lost by a score on the order of I-don't-really-know-but-let's-call-it-17-3. In SP&R the teams themselves are responsible for scorekeeping and reporting winners and losers and so on, and our dugout was a bit inattentive when our side was in the field and didn't keep track. Plus, with a couple of runs disallowed by the umpire because reasons, I'm not even sure how many we scored. I do know that I had another crap game at bat, with nothing but weak grounders and another 0-fer. Alas.

Meanwhile, my week as an umpire myself continues in a little while as I have two games tonight. I had four games last Sunday, two scheduled on Monday which were rained out, and three Tuesday. I'll cap the week with two tomorrow night as well. Tuesday at Cap Hill was rather uneventful as Cap Hill shifts go, but there was still a fair number of squares to mark off on the bingo card. It was my only shift there this week, so I'll have to wait until Monday to try again for a first bingo.

 

 

Tagged Softball, Umping, Posted on June 11, 2026 at 6:15PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Diamond doings, etc.

Making up for some fallow weeks earlier in the spring, I'm getting assigned a lot of umpiring of late. Mostly that's good, I can certainly use the extra money in this age of Felon47’s economic sabotage. But it does cut into my TV time, and I'm just getting around to finishing the latest season of For All Mankind (not its best season, to put it mildly, but FAM remains a great show) so I can start on the first season of its companion show Star City. I still haven't gotten around to The Testaments, either, and need to find time for Spider-Noir sometime despite it being an Amazon property. (Is it kind of ridiculous to be singling out Amazon as an evil corporation these days? I mean, SNW returns next month on Paramount and I'll still watch that despite the CBS/Paramount takeover by fascist enablers.)

But the umping has been fun this week. Since the ugliness at the end of last Sunday's shift, I've had three nights calling games and they were all positive. Tonight I only had one or two familiar faces among the four teams on my schedule, but Monday's and Thursday's slates included a lot of old faves. Last night, in fact, included a championship game that was won by a team that goes by the name "Jeans," as several of them wear jeans or jean-shorts as their "uniform"; when I handed Robin, their captain, the team's winnings (a voucher for substantial bar credit and a discount on their next signup), he asked why they weren't getting the typical nothing-prize of league-branded wristbands again. It was sarcasm, as those prizes are pretty lame, but I hadn't been given any to hand out. But, as I was packing up the equipment bin, I found a stash of prize wristbands left over from previous seasons, so I handed some of those out to Robin and his team. He then led his team an a "Tim! Tim! Tim!" chant as they put on the wristbands and jumped around. It was goofy and made me laugh.

Tonight's only issues were with spectators. There were two versions of a peanut gallery in the seats behind the plate: the 8:00 game had the small children of some players doing cheers and chants for everybody; it was cute for two innings or so, then it was very much NOT. The 9:30 version was the boyfriend of one player and a friend of his that were drunkenly heckling me on nearly every pitch. Hard to say which version was more annoying. (Wait, no, it's not, the kids were way more annoying.)

The nights I didn't work this week were spent playing with the Spuds (Wednesday) and taking K & E to the Mariner game on Tuesday. That M's game vs. the New York Metropolitans was a fun one; we had terrific seats and the Mariners won handily to extend their winning streak to eight games (where it stopped, as they've dropped two straight since then). I don't know if their expenditure matched what I spent on the tickets or not, but K & E bought our concessions, which were plentiful and included the biggest soft-serve ice cream cone I'd ever seen, let alone eaten. It's three days on and I think I still feel some of it in my gut. Sure was tasty, though.

Another thing about these full-up weeknights is that I've been consuming less news than usual, but I still get the headlines and a few stray articles. This, from John Scalzi's newsletter today, I thought was worth sharing because schadenfreude. Felon47’s grift-scam "Freedom 250" event in DC has lost most of its star power as every musical act it had advertised as participating has either bowed out or insisted they were never going to be there in the first place. Except for Vanilla Ice and Lee Greenwood. Per Scalzi: "Trump is now having a rally on June 26th, where his aimless meandering mouth pooping will be occasionally interrupted by Lee Greenwood singing 'God Bless the USA,' or some such. If you attend, you deserve what you're going to get, and that's all I have to say about that. Greenwood's own reputation as a musician will not be notably dinged for his appearance; being hauled out for a single moment of performative patriotism for politicians who actively hate the majority of Americans is what he's been known for this entire century. I hope it pays well."

OK, I need something to eat and perhaps I'll start on Star City before calling it a night.

Tagged Umping, Seattle Mariners, TV, Politics, President VonClownstick, Posted on June 6, 2026 at 12:42AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Still no bingo

Yesterday's umpiring shift had a lot of "atmosphere," if you will. Sirens galore, dogs bounding all over the field, oblivious park-goers getting hit by fly balls, a not-really-a-traffic-accident automotive altercation. Lots going on.

Oh, including two pretty fun games, the first of which breezed along and was finished in under an hour and the latter of which took a while but ended in a come-from-behind walkoff victory for the home team when they plated five in the bottom of the 7th inning.

That second game was marred by machismo, though.

There was one guy who was being an ass pretty much the whole game. Yelling a lot, cussing out kids who deigned to kick their ball into our outfield, generally advertising his lack of serenity to all. Then when the game was over, during the handshake/high-fives between the teams, he slapped an opponent's hand so hard he wrenched the guy's shoulder and nearly started a fistfight. Fortunately, his team took charge and moved him off the field before things could escalate too much, but there was some pushing and words exchanged and general hostility being stoked, and this from someone who was on the winning side. You can bet I reported him to the league; we'll all be keeping an eye out when his team plays, keeping a pretty short leash on him. It won't take much more for him to find himself added to the league's banned list. The rest of his team is cool, though, and they promised me they'd handle the situation "in house," but I'll believe it when I see it. I mean, I know they'll try, but I've seen this kind of attitude before and I kind of doubt it's confined to the softball diamond.

Midway through the shift, we also had this as an accompaniment:

I think what happened is that the driver of the red truck deliberately bumped the back of the Prius out of impatience; not sure of it was a light-turning-green thing or what, but that's my guess. When the Prius driver naturally became concerned about being bumped from behind and didn't move on but wanted to see what was going on behind him, the truck driver lost his shit and started screaming, leaning hard on his horn, calling the other driver every cuss word he could think of. (He and the problematic softball player could be twins separated at birth.) One of the other players and I mused that the truck driver ought to just keep it up as the police station is just at the end of the block; attract their attention and he'd really learn the folly of impatience. Didn't happen, though, as the truck driver eventually just drove over the various barriers to go around the Prius, running a red light in the process. Then the Prius driver calmly looked at the back of his car, got back in, and went about his day. Way to perpetuate the stereotypes of Prius drivers and pickup truck dudes, fellas!

Anyway, on the whole it was a pretty good afternoon/evening, even though the games were playoffs and a couple of times guys got in my face about close calls at the plate. Also, for about half an hour I was looking right into the sun and had to basically guess at a few things that I could not see; I didn't take much flak for that, though. I curse the city planners who situated the fields this way.

Also, it was as close to a bingo shift as I've had yet:

All I needed was for the one spikeball group to launch one our way, but for once they were playing at a respectful distance away in deepest center field.

I'll get another chance in a few hours, though, I'm back out there tonight for three games. After which I plan on coming home to watch the Mariners play the visiting New York Metropolitans on time-delayed TV and eat an entire pizza, assuming nobody at softball spoils the M's game for me ahead of time.

Tagged Umping, Posted on June 1, 2026 at 4:04PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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What not to do

I'm heading out to ump three games tonight at Cap Hill in a bit, but last night I was on the other side of things as a player in a softball game. My team, the Smiling Potatoes of Death, took on the oh-so-cleverly named Sea-Men, the team in our league (Seattle P&R softball, Ballard division) that nobody likes. To be fair, their rep is from years past and it seems like they've had some turnover and are perhaps not so annoying anymore, but still. Anyway, we held our own and had, in Deep Space Niner terms, a manufactured triumph by playing an entire seven-inning game without being mercy-ruled into an early finish.

So not bad. Fun. Ish.

The game was marred not by the team with the not-as-clever-as-they-think-it-is name, but by the umpire. As a fellow umpire, I had trouble keeping my opinions to myself on the subject but did refrain from making any comments directly to the ump working our game. I did not say to him, for example, "home plate is 17 inches wide, you can't only count ten inches of it," or "you are interpreting that rule wrong," or "that call may or may not have been technically within the bounds of the rulebook, but it violates the spirit of the rules and is just petty." The missed calls on the bases I wouldn't have complained about anyway, those will happen with anyone on occasion, and even if they're the norm with this guy that's a can of worms you don't want to open.

When I'm umping in the league I work in, there will sometimes be occasion to ask players why they're not coming back the next season or why they returned after an absence or something like that. It's pretty expensive, I get why teams might look for alternatives. But aside from the considerably lesser fees, no one yet has voiced a positive opinion on the Seattle Parks & Rec league when comparing. The rules are different and inferior, for one thing; SPR doesn't have a say in some of them because they contract with USA softball for umpires and they have certain mandates, but not one of the special rules is favored. But the main reason I hear from players returning to my work league is the officials. We're independent, not subject to anyone else's rule mandates, and even the worst of us is a better umpire than the best one you'll see at an SP&R game.

So, last night being an especially egregious example of how a bad umpire can taint everyone's enjoyment of a game and threaten to ruin a good time is something of an object lesson for me. Nothing I didn't already know, but an effective reminder that it pays to know what you're doing, it pays to acknowledge and own up to mistakes, and it pays to be clear and communicative. (Also, it reminds me once more that my employer league's best asset is its field staff and they really ought to step up when it comes to how they treat us; or, more accurately, take better care not to be insulting/reductive when dealing with us. But that's another topic.)

Oh, I went 1-for-3 (lineout, infield single, fielder's choice) and pitched six frames, giving up 17 runs; I'm guessing six earned, but I've yet to compile the numbers. Walked two, both umpire-aided and one was awarded on ball three because see above. Struck out one.

My three games tonight are a welcome return to a fuller shift after having a few one-gamers the last couple of weeks. Those hardly seem worth the trouble of going out there, especially in the age of $6 gasoline. Next week I've got two on Sunday, three Monday, two Thursday, and two Friday. That's a pretty decent week.

 

Tagged Umping, Softball, Star Trek, Posted on May 28, 2026 at 5:40PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Game of oddities

One of the outs that wasn't

Last night my friend Dave and I attended the game at TMP, as Dave's hometown Chicago White Sox are in town for a series against Your Seattle Mariners. It was a good time all around, but it was also one of the weirder games I've been privileged to see in person—not one, not two, but three things I'd never before seen in a baseball game happened last night.

First, in the opening frame a White Sox baserunner—Sam Antonacci, who had singled—tried to go first-to-third on a walk. As soon as "ball four" was announced on batter Munetaka Murakami, Antonacci sprinted to second base and just kept going, trying to steal third before the Mariners realized what was going on. It did not work, as pitcher Bryan Woo casually tossed the ball to third baseman Colt Emerson who easily tagged Antonacci out.

I get the thinking. I mean, on a walk the defensive team is usually just waiting for the batter to take off his elbow guard or whatever and make his way to first base, so if you're the runner at first it may seem like a cunning strategy to take them unawares. But dude, you're not that fast. Woo threw you out by 15 feet. Fun moment, though.

Then the real weirdness occurred in the bottom of the 3rd inning. Seattle catcher Jhonny Pereda was aboard at first base after being hit by a pitch. With one out, Julio Rodríguez then lined a laser beam to second baseman Antonacci, who appeared to allow the ball to hit the inside of his glove and fall to the ground, thus allowing him to attempt a double play. It seemed to work, the relay throw from the shortstop to first baseman was in plenty of time to double up the jogging Rodríguez; the inning was over and the White Sox began moving toward their dugout. But second-base umpire Mike Muchlinski waved his arms and pointed to second base and disallowed the double play, returning Pereda to first base and ruling Rodríguez's liner as caught, apparently retroactively.

Now, there is nothing illegal about deliberately allowing a would-be catch to bounce out of your glove; Antonacci, from what we could see anyway, was being a dick but not breaking the rules. Thus, my interpretation is that Muchlinski must have signaled catch/out prematurely, causing Rodríguez to give up his run to first base, and realizing his mistake was making a corrective ruling. His premature out call prevented Julio from running out the ball and thus the double play was unfair. I might be wrong in that assessment, perhaps Muchlinski saw the catch as a legitimate catch that Antonacci then dropped to fool the runners, but it seemed to us that it happened much too fast for that to be the case. And, as a softball umpire that has a bad habit of making calls a split second too soon, I empathize with the idea of having to correct a mistake.

But that was never-seen-it thing number two, never seen a double play disallowed before.

Then on the very next play, Randy Arozarena hit a drive into the left-field corner. As Pereda was rounding second base, he collided with shortstop Colson Montgomery, who was watching the ball with his back to the infield. This is what umpires refer to as "type-2 obstruction." Unlike with type-2 diabetes, you don't do anything to mitigate a type-2 obstruction, you just note it with a call/gesture and let the play continue, then when the play is over determine whether or not the obstruction actually made a difference in the result of the play. It is entirely up to the umpire's judgment whether or not to impose a penalty for the obstruction, which would be allowing the runner to achieve a base he didn't achieve during the play as it happened. Anyway, Pereda was delayed for perhaps half a second by the collision, continued around third base, and was thrown out by the left fielder by maybe 20 feet. It was not close, Pareda is not fast, and sending him past third was a mistake on the part of the Mariners' third-base coach. Nevertheless, after a lengthy conference between the four umpires, Pareda was awarded home due to the obstruction.

Because the conference took so long, Dave and I suspect there was disagreement between them and eventually the crew chief's opinion prevailed. Both of us thought that the delay was inconsequential. That half-second was not enough time for Pareda to have made up the 20 feet or so between him and the catcher when the catcher received the ball from left field. Thus, while Pareda being returned to first base on the previous play we adjudicated as proper given the interpretation of remedying an ump's mistake, we deemed awarding the run to the Mariners here as unreasonable.

Regardless, I had never seen an obstruction call play out like that before, let alone one called, in my opinion, erroneously.

Fortunately, that run didn't matter in the end. Josh Naylor lined out to end the frame in the next at-bat, and the M's had put up another run by the time Chicago had scored even once (on a solo homer in the 7th). The M's capped the scoring in the bottom of the 8th when 20-year-old rookie Colt Emerson barely cleared the right-field wall with his first big-league hit, a three-run homer over the head of White Sox RF Jarred Kelenic, who himself was a highly-regarded Mariner rookie whose first hit was a home run a few years back. Kelenic ended up being a flop (though I suppose he could still redeem himself somewhat). Emerson will have to wait and see, it was only his second game.

So, good game to have chosen, fun was had, and even though Dave was disappointed in the outcome, his team is still over .500 while the M's are still under. Go figure.

Tagged Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Umping, Posted on May 19, 2026 at 5:03PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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2-for-3 is good at the plate, but it sucks in the field

Cal Raleigh broke an 0-for-30-something slump earlier tonight in Your Seattle Mariners' win in Houston. I'm hoping that I break out of my own slump of sorts next time I'm out on the field umpiring.

On the heels of last Wednesday's mistakes, Monday night at Cap Hill there was other weirdness. I had three games, and the first two were fine. They featured some of my favored teams and included a couple of firsts for me, including umping my first shutout, which in rec league softball is a rarity indeed. The Superstars beat the Pancake Batters (Capitol Hill edition) 24-0. Freaky. I also had to have a team adjust their lineup for having too many women bat in a row. Too many dudes in a row happens all the time, but it was a welcome first to have a team with so many women on it that they had to stagger them more than every third batter.

Anyway, first two were fine, even though I continued to have issues with being quick on the draw. You'd think after eight years of this I'd be better at that, but not yet. The only time it resulted in a wrong call I was able to reverse it right away, so it was just embarrassing, but it's a bad habit I have to break.

Game three, though.

That one pitted Pitch Slap (a not-as-clever-as-they-think team name) against the Chop Zone Outlaws (a truly inspired team name). The Outlaws I like a lot, I've gotten to be friendly with a few of them and they're always fun and trouble-free. The other guys have been around for years and I'm reasonably acquainted with them, too, but just as they've never been a favorite, nor have they ever been a problem for me. Never got any flak from them. Until Monday, when I heard not one complaint out of them, not two, but several—on dumb stuff, too. A close call at first went against them and I got an earful about how it wasn't remotely close (say what?) and the outrage was outsized even if the call had been wrong (and we don't have replay and there's just one of me, so on close ones like that we'll never know). At the other team's suggestion, I overturned that one in the name of keeping the peace (it helped that the score was lopsided). I got flak for calling a down-the-middle pitch a strike, with claims that it was over the batter's head when it crossed the plate at stomach level. I got flak for resisting those complaints. I got flak for something else they didn't like that I never conclusively identified. I suspect PS was cranky because they were getting the tar beat out of them, but it befuddled me nonetheless.

Anyway, all that got in my head to the point where I really did screw up later in the game. It's a minor thing that didn't affect the score in the slightest, but I found myself being way late on calling a ball out of play—because the catcher was still talking to me about the prior dustup—and then having to make a call on where to place runners when I hadn't paid a lick of attention to where they had been (and thus what they were then entitled to). I made a guess, PS got cranky and yelled at me again, and I owned it that I screwed up and didn't see and went to reverse the call, but damage was done and there was no restoring confidence.

We finished the game, PS made a valiant attempt at a comeback in the 7th but still lost handily, and nobody from their dugout offered to help me pack up. Unsurprisingly.

For what it's worth, the Outlaws thought I'd gotten nothing wrong at all, but whether any of the calls were incorrect or not, I still failed in my mind because (a) I let grousing get to me, and (b) as such I wasn't watching what I should have been on a later play and exacerbated a bad situation.

I left the field feeling quite annoyed with myself and grateful that I don't have another shift until Sunday. Give me time to reclaim my damaged calm, to paraphrase Jayne from Firefly.

Also, because we were running late all evening (hazards of a nice day, clearing people off the field takes a while), I barely had any opportunity to say hi to a couple of favorite players before or after the middle game and after we were done I only had the chance to vent a bit with Meg, a fave from the Outlaws, but missed nerding out some with Jared, who was wearing a Punisher T-shirt; The Punisher is probably my very least favorite Marvel property, but the character does feature in the Daredevil TV show that just wrapped its season and I wanted to ask Jared's opinion. First-world problems, am I right?

Anyhow, Sunday I have another brutal five-gamer to do, but at least it isn't at Green Lake so I'll have some shade at least part of the day. Then a three-gamer Tuesday and a one-gamer (barely worth it!) on Thursday and nothing next weekend because of Memorial Day. Monday I have M's tickets with Dave, so I miss out on a potential three other games, but right now that's just fine with me. I feel like I'm worthy of being benched for a few days.

 

Tagged Umping, Posted on May 13, 2026 at 3:08AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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