Umpire diary

Tonight was my first shift back on the field after Monday's very weird experience with bad management from the league. You know me, I was mildly obsessing about that encounter all week and was curious to confer with a fellow ump about it, so before taking over from the guy who had the early games today I mentioned it to gauge his reaction to being policed; we agreed it was weird, negative, and had to be based in some context we are not aware of.

The more I process it the more I think this is two people from the office not talking to each other very well resulting in either correctly-understood bad and counterproductive instruction or misunderstood intentions being relayed in an unintentionally misleading way. Knowing the personalities involved it could really be either one.

I have been and still am considering writing something to the office with detail that expresses just how petty and disrespectful this instruction turned out to be for both us the officials and for the messenger, but I'm also reluctant because even though I can see how such feedback would be useful and help to repair the alienation they've managed to create with staff, and how a couple of others would also see it, I don't think the person who really needs to hear it would accept it in the manner intended. I may try to bring it up with someone in particular next weekend at an event, we'll see. But I don't think I'll put it in writing as it might make things worse for the messenger, who is already being treated poorly. At least, it seems that way. Again, context would help, as this remains a big fat WTF? mystery.

Onward. My games tonight were rather unremarkable save for three calls that I may or may not have gotten wrong. Two I did not see, one was just super-close (tag play at third base). The ones I didn't see are just the way of things when there's only one ump and lots of possible plays on the diamond; I get set in position for what I think is the most likely play to be made and then the team goes and tries for a different play and I'm suddenly at a terrible angle to see it. The questionable calls went one against each side and I got some pushback on just one, from the losing team (the other team cut me slack for only having one set of eyes), who insisted that a runner not be allowed to score because she missed third base; I did not see her round the bag as I was watching other runners, but her team insisted she did tag it and really one run wasn't going to make a difference here. But the defensive player insisted that she couldn't have touched the bag because he'd been standing right on it.

"You sure you want to go with that argument?" I asked. He looked blankly, so I elaborated. "In that circumstance she'd be awarded home because you obstructed the basepath by standing on the base without possession of the ball." He threw up his hands and retreated to his dugout, unsatisfied. Oh, well.

It wasn't anything that festered beyond the moment and we moved on and all was well. A few of the players were also present for the game on Monday that had The Incident, and one of them made sure to greet me and say, "hey, I'm glad you didn't quit after whatever that was Monday."

Though the league may or may not respect and value me, the players do. For now, that's enough. I'll take it.

No BINGO again tonight.

 

Tagged Umping, Softball, Posted on February 1, 2026 at 10:53PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Umpire diary

I worked a shift at the softball field tonight. Two games, both with teams I really enjoy. It was going really well for about an hour—I was feeling good, energetic, had managed to successfully switch my brain over from news outrage to facilitating a good experience for good folks and having some fun in the process.

Then there was an interruption. After which my focus was disturbed, I made a couple of bad calls, and generally went from having a great shift to one ruled by distraction.

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritty details of the interruption because the point of writing this now is to process my reaction to what was said more than the actual things said. Suffice to say the interruption was from a league office colleague and it turned from a jovial "hey, [name], nice to see you, what are you doing here?" to me considering quitting this gig in the space of about five minutes.

Most (not all) of those things said were, while not delivered with much respect for me or my fellow umps, reasonable in and of themselves; in fact, in large part the message delivered to me was more of a heads-up than a critical berating, but it reinforced the feeling that the league doesn't value me as it should and that it was treating my colleague the messenger even worse. I was, and remain to some degree, pissed off on his behalf.

I've no idea what prompted this interruption, I just know that they're going to be standard for us umps and refs now, at least for a while. It's been determined that we need to be policed, and I resent it. It may have nothing to do with me personally, which, really, is part of the problem—I dislike management types that take a one-size-fits-all approach to situations where context is everything.

Now, I am fully aware that I am overreacting. That I am taking things personally when I shouldn't. I am also aware that by nature I resist taking orders, I insist on things having justifications that make sense, I have very little patience for clumsily disrespectful behavior. I'm not exactly one to just take a metaphorical slap without just cause nor am I one to accept whatever's told to me without knowing some context.

And I have very little context here. Something happened to instigate my colleague being ordered to do what he was doing, and my impression is that he's not pleased with how it's playing out either. Whatever "it" is.

Anyway, there's nothing to be done about it, I'm going to continue to do what I do as an ump for the league just as I've always done it because I know my job and, not to toot my own horn overly much, I do it better than most if not all of my fellow umps and make it a priority to facilitate the players—the people who pay the fees and who we want to see keep coming back for more—having a good time and don't just go through the motions. If I can make it more fun for them, I figure that's part of my job.

So being given shit for wearing grey pants—which is very umpire-norm, frankly—instead of khakis—which are very much not, and that's a thing? Since when is that a thing?—and getting no acknowledgment that, for example, players know me by name and always like games I ump better than games someone else does is ... irritating. Maybe they'd all keep coming back season after season and paying the fees without my being there (they probably would), but I don't think it's out of bounds for me to say that it's an easier decision for them because I am there (me and maybe one or two other well-liked officials). Too bad the league apparently doesn't give a damn.

On the flip side, nearly everyone else on the field tonight, all the players in both games, quite independently of this other crap, went out of their way to say they were glad to see me and let me know I was at least appreciated by them. Boku no ichiban suki na senshu was there for the first game tonight as well, making me appreciate that sometimes a gig is worth having even if the people that pay you think you're a replaceable cog.

Given a couple of days to process/get over this thing, I'll likely pivot to ignoring it and just move on and it'll be fine. In the grand scheme of things it's pretty trivial, after all. And if not, if it gets worse or escalates to a point that it genuinely offends me, well, I don't need the gig. I could get by without it just fine.

Tagged Umping, Society, Posted on January 26, 2026 at 11:51PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Umpire Diary

Last night I got home from my umpiring shift feeling pretty good. Today I woke up with one of my patented Sinus Migraines™, something I haven't had to endure in quite a while. I think the last time I had one I was working at Disney? Been a while, at any rate. (And by that I mean, last time I had one that wasn't brought on specifically by allergy—I get a similar reaction when exposed to the odor of spearmint. It's a weird, and as far as I know, unique to me allergy.) Regardless, it's a good thing I wasn't scheduled to ump tonight as well, it would have been less than pleasant as it's taken until... [checks clock] almost 11:00pm for it to run its course. Nasty fuckers.

But I'm OK now, more or less, so I'll try to recall anything of note from last night.

I had three games, all of which had at least one team I love to draw. Once again, Pitch, Please! was in the mix, as were the Seattle Squids. PP had a doubleheader, so twice the time trading barbs and such with them, and Brook made sure to give the proper response to my razzing him last week for "hitting like a pitcher" (i.e. striking out) by clubbing multiple extra-base hits.

One thing that came up that's a rarity, even in rec-league softball: I called a baserunner out for being hit by a batted ball. While another runner left from third base, the runner in question was taking off from second and the hard grounder smacked her right in the foot a few steps off of the bag (no runner on first). No complaints about the call of "runner out," but one infielder, a good dude named Wyatt, did challenge me for letting the runner from third score on the play. "It's a dead ball," Wyatt insisted, "he should have to go back to third!" With some real and some feigned confidence, I replied, "No, it's a base hit, so one base." Nevertheless, I wasn't 100% sure. Was Wyatt right? I didn't have the luxury of checking it out in the moment, so we moved on, but I did look it up when I got home, in Rule 5.06, Running the Bases:

5.06(c) – Dead balls:

The ball becomes dead and runners advance one base, or return to their bases, without liability to be put out, when:

...

(6) A fair ball touches a runner (or an umpire) in fair territory before it touches an infielder including the pitcher, or before it has passed an infielder other than the pitcher. The struck runner is out and the batter is awarded a base hit.

Well, that's not helpful. The vagueness suggests it's then umpire's discretion whether or not the runner from third would be allowed to score. Yay, me! However, when consulting a second source (umpirebible.com), I see that Wyatt was right:

 Section (6): A fair ball touches a runner or an umpire on fair territory before it touches an infielder including the pitcher, or touches an umpire before it has passed an infielder other than the pitcher; runners advance, if forced. The struck runner, if any, is out and the batter is awarded a base hit. (emphasis mine)

My bad, Wyatt. Something to remember for next time. Good thing it didn't factor into who won.

It was not a rainy evening this time around, so the field at Cal Anderson Park was not as free from interlopers as it was last week, but the shift still concluded without a BINGO.

Tagged Umping, Posted on January 19, 2026 at 11:53PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Umpire Diary

I'm a week into the Winter League with my umpiring gig. I thought I might start posting notes on the experience this year; we'll see if it remains interesting enough to continue as the year progresses. But for now, some bits and pieces...

• Firstly, unlike prior winter league seasons, it's not just me and basically two other guys vying for shifts. Everyone wants hours now, even though it's 39 degrees and wet out there. Hard to argue with that, everyone needs extra dough in the age of the Felon47 crash-and-burn economy. But it's disappointing to me because I'm getting two shifts a week, which translates to four or five games. I'd rather have three, or six or seven games; I could use that extra hundred bucks a week and I would get to see my favorite players more often.
• Speaking of favorites, last night I got to see some, including boku no ichiban suki na senshu, who generously provided me with hot cocoa and baked goods. She's awesome. (She also homered with a fly ball that hit the foul line and evaded the left fielder. Sugoi.) The evening prior I had another fave team, called Pitch, Please!, and razzed the Orioles fan wearing the Jim Palmer jersey for striking out and thus batting like a pitcher. Which, unfair, as Jim Palmer had 13 extra-base hits in his 19-year career, which is likely 13 more than any of us on the softball field could manage in the bigs. Anyway, great to see Megan, Joel, Wyatt, Ray, Aidan, Owen, Emma, "Oil Can" Boyd, and the rest of the gang from Sunday and Monday evenings.
• Last Wednesday night's action I don't remember much of, because that shift was dominated by my having to call paramedics to the scene. A gal playing third base took a line drive to the face. It was pretty scary (mostly for her, there was panic for a bit) and very bloody, as many facial lacerations can be. It was severe enough that the paramedics decided it was more than they could handle and they called a "real" ambulance and had her taken to Harborview. Fortunately, I rarely have to call for medical help; I think this was the fifth time(?) in however many years I've been doing this, and I would like for it to be the only time this year. Yesterday afternoon while at the league office I asked if we'd heard from anyone on her team as to her status and no one had followed up! Holy crap, someone dropped the ball there.
• Weird for winter league, I've already had three teams I didn't know, including two that were what we call "indy teams," people that sign up as individuals and are thrown together, many of whom haven't played much softball in their lives. Generally, these are fun groups because they signed up to be social rather than be competitive, and even if they play like they could only ever aspire to the relative success of the 1899 Cleveland Spiders, they have fun doing it. Winter league has historically been near-exclusively populated by the die-hards, the teams that sign up all the time and have been around for years, so it's strange to have so many newbies. I can't recall the last winter I had to give the Opening Day Speech more than once, but I've given it three times already.
• The day after my first shift I was seriously feeling my age, as my legs were ridiculously sore. Shows just how sedentary my "off-season" was. Get fitter, you lazy bum.
• Sunday was rainy and unpleasant, which for games at Capitol Hill is actually a good thing in the sense that few other people are using the park. So there was no BINGO! this week:
  

  

No new shifts until Sunday. Stupid economy making people want my hours. Alas.

Tagged Umping, Softball, Posted on January 13, 2026 at 6:13PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Experiment insights

The bot invasion continues, but my newest experiments in combat tactics are at least revealing some information. The Cloudfare service I'm trying out is a mixed bag, to be sure, and I'm still not sold on it being all that useful, but it is able to see through some of the bot camouflage. That in and of itself might be helpful in creating IP blocks that actually work. We'll see.

For example, there's a hit in my access logs from about an hour ago ostensibly from Senegal on a certain IP, using Chrome version 103 on Windows 10. It's obviously a bot because it matches certain patterns in my access logs, but it successfully oozed through all the "bots keep out" forcefields and convinced servers it was a human user. The extra layer of filtering reveals that this bot was actually in Venezuela on a different IP, using Chrome 110 (headless, which means no user interface, which means entirely under-the-hood snooping), using or simulating Windows 10. Another hit claimed to be from Mexico on a certain IP and was really from El Salvador on another, pretending to be on a MacOS.

It does appear to be intercepting a lot of bot traffic, but I'm still a bit unclear on what's being reported; a lot of these, I think, are bots not trying to disguise themselves (like Googlebot) and thus hit my robots.txt file and see the "keep out" sign and obey it. These would be stopped anyhow, I'm just seeing more data on it this way. It's also reporting more bandwidth usage than my actual usage seems to be, which hopefully indicates intercepted bots that don't make it through the filter? It's going to take a few more days worth of data to give me any sense of difference its making in terms of stopping bots in their tracks.

Meanwhile, I am also considering turning this site into a "members only" sort of thing that requires a login for anyone to see it. I don't like the idea conceptually, but password-blocking is a sure way to eliminate bot theft. At the moment, I can only assign members manually, from my admin interface, so that's a non-starter. I would need to code a new feature into the site guts to allow people to sign up from outside, and then add stuff to prevent bots from signing up (or at least minimize them). I may have a low-tech workaround for that, based on the idea that bots, especially these newfangled scraper bots, will look for more technical means of defense to thwart and might miss a simpler approach.

How would people feel about being forced to log in? I well understand that the average websurfer has the attention span of a gnat, and that any obstacle might be enough to cause them to move along to something else, but this seems like a simple enough ask. Any thoughts?

I'll try and implement that simple workaround login test tomorrow/later in the week. Can't start on it now or I'll end up losing track of time and I have to be out of here in another hour or so because I start my 2026 umpiring this evening. It'll be cold, the field will be wet, and the teams playing don't include any of my favorites (though no serial troublemakers, either). I'm not exactly excited about it, but it will be nice to be back on the field again.

Tagged Site issues, Umping, Posted on January 7, 2026 at 3:30PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Last game of the year?

Eugenio Suárez strikes out to end last night's game

I attended one final regular season game at the ballpark by Elliott Bay last night, the first one of the year that basically didn't matter. With the results of other games around the league, the hometown Mariners were already assured of their second-seed spot in the American League playoffs and the visiting Los Angeles Dodgers were already assured of their third-seeded spot in the National League playoffs. Would have been nice to win, but the M's failed to capitalize on their rallies in the late innings and lost 3-2.

Wasn't a great game. But it was a fun time anyway, made possible by Neal—thanks, Neal—and his generosity in gifting me a pair of raffle-won tickets that he couldn't use. Much appreciated, and I paid it forward somewhat by giving the other seat to another softballer from my umpiring world; last Sunday in my umping season finale I had been chatting with this fellow Woalter about how the asking price for tickets to the Dodger series was sky-high and thus he wasn't going. When Neal's offer came, I figured this was a good way to earn a little goodwill and get to know him a bit.

Neal's free seats were in the center field bleachers, which is not my favorite vantage to say the least; we were in pretty much straightaway center, so it wasn't bad for calling pitches, which I of course couldn't help but do with umpire reflexes. Otherwise, though, lousy view. Woalter and I were also surrounded on three sides by Dodger fans, which, OK, not as bad as Yankee or Red Sox fans but still slightly obnoxious.

Once again, this was a 6:40 start time, and once again the number of empty seats at 6:40 was vast compared to the number of empty seats at 7:10. Placing the start time closer to rush hour is not a good idea, you jerks.

I don't know how well this shows the empties, but just after first pitch (top) vs. about 7:10 (bottom), which had been the normal start time for years. Looked to me like it was about 20% empty at 6:40, basically full at 7:10.

Woalter and I talked about the World Baseball Classic—he's going to see Venezuela play next spring's WBC in Miami, I'd love to go to Tokyo to see Japan play but probably can't afford it—favorite players, how the experience of a game is different here from how it is in his homeland of Venezuela, why Josh Naylor is awesome, and whether or not José Altuve should be a Hall of Famer (he will be). My faves of Keith Hernandez, Willie McGee, Ichiro, and Marco Gonzales were a bit off from Woalter's picks of Andruw Jones, Franklin Guttierez, and Altuve, but we both appreciate great defense and success by smaller guys that aren't necessarily built for pro sports.

I also got a free vegan hot dog after I tried to pay for it with a gift card and essentially broke the register at this little concession cart. After several minutes of trying to make it work, they basically sent me on my way with "enjoy the game" and rebooted their system rather than work it out to charge my gift card. So that was nice, though I did miss the better part of an inning while they tried to fix it. Pretty decent hot dog, too.

Anyhow, not a bad way to potentially bid adieu to the ballpark for 2025. There will be playoff games, but whether I will attend is uncertain. My season ticket group will divvy up our regular seats and some very expensive extras sometime this week, and I will pass on the very expensive extras so my odds of getting a seat for next Saturday or Sunday are less than 50%. After that, there may or may not be ALCS games to go to with the same arrangement. Hopefully, I'll be back. If not, well, it was a fun season and I can give my tinnitus an offseason rest.

Tagged Baseball, Umping, Seattle Mariners, Posted on September 27, 2025 at 5:08PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Softball finale

Slightly Washed Up, the Capitol Hill Sunday softball champs

Today was my final umpiring shift of 2025, and it was a pretty good one. Three games, so not too many, not too few. Teams I generally like to ump for. Good weather. Pretty nice evening to end the year's ump work on. Playoffs and the championship game, and yet nobody brought any extra machismo, which is unusual and very much appreciated.

It was at Bobby Morris Field on Capitol Hill, though. Good field, nice location in some ways, not so nice in others because of the inevitable interference from outside forces. You remember the Cap Hill Softball Bingo Card, right? Well, we had our hecklers, we had our drunk hecklers, we had our various sirens. Foul ball to a vehicle. People wandering onto the field mid-play. But a new one tonight was this: Thrash metal concert in the adjoining skate park.

I could do with never having one of those show up ever again. Two of three games with this noise for a soundtrack:

 

 

The recording doesn't do it justice because my phone-camera emphasizes sound it picks up nearest to the mic—usually a nice feature, but cross-purposes to this bit. Trust me, they were loud. Not PA-at-the-stadium loud, but still.

The three games were fun, especially given that the first one was an upset victory (though sad to see the Grounders bounced out early), the second was a dramatic come-from-behind squeaker win, and the third a blowout that everyone had a good time with despite the score. (When you lose by 20 it's good to reflect on the fact that you made it to the last game at all, right?)

The champs were a team known as Slightly Washed Up, living up to their name—if they were more than slightly gone they'd have lost, right? They're a fun bunch and even helped me pack up afterward, always something I remember for when I see them again.

One highlight was a player on the runner-up team that hit two of the longest home runs I've ever seen in a softball game. If you're familiar with Bobby Morris field, you know that there are two softball diamonds on opposing sides of the park; the first of this guy's homers cleared the backstop fence of the far diamond. Not straightaway, but near enough. The second was in a more traditional left-center trajectory but cleared the skate park and landed on the street by the apartment building. The pitcher that served up the first bomb, after her outfielder retrieved the ball and threw it back to her, did a classy thing and gave the ball to the hitter as a souvenir. (I mean, technically it wasn't hers to give, but still, if I'd thought of it instead I would have given it to him too, and since these were the last games of the year we had plenty to spare.)

I didn't eject anyone this year, though there were a few I maybe should have. There were a few truly bad days on the field with complainers and hotheads. But by and large it was a fun time and a good way to earn some scratch. And, of course, it's always good to be out at the park with people I enjoy being around.

So, as we bid adieu to 2025 umping, I say thank you to the players, especially: Megan C., Neal C., Amy B., Frankie E., Chuck H., Woalter G., Joel N., Wyatt C., Ray L.,  Pat W., Chase S., Connor K., Mal G., Gwen M., Alex Z. ("Mr. Atoz"), Rachaele M., Celena O., Emma C., Aidan S., Carrie A., Annabel T., Aaron K., Troy L., Brent P., Brandy B., "Blue Jean" Brandon B., Ed F., Robin D., Aaron Y., and a whole bunch of others I'm not recalling names for just now—oh, and Lewis, the Jasons, Cerissa and the rest of the Leftovers, Abe, other Meg, other Emma, Boyd, Tess, hell, even Kevin, who is sometimes a jerk. 

Not Marcus, though. If I never see that guy again it'll be too soon.

And shout-out to my fellow umps Laz and Ben, you guys have fans too. But just remember, I'm the favorite. :)

Tagged Softball, Umping, Posted on September 22, 2025 at 3:38AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Turning the page

The last couple of weeks haven't been great here in the confines of my chemistry-addled brain, but it's a new week now and the world keeps on turning.

Last night I had an umpiring shift, one of the final ones of the year as things wind down (I may get two or three more at most) and the final one that will involve some of my favorite players in the league. Bonus, I got to chat a little bit with Stephen, a guy that had been one of my favorite players to ump until he moved away last year, but who has now returned. Welcome back, dude! Hope to see you on the field next year. Also good to see Megan, Joel, Pat, Wyatt, Ray, and the rest of those folks yesterday for one final time until we convene again after New Year's. And Megan, thank you as always for the baked good samples. (Hey, I heard that, and they're not "special" baked goods. C'mon.)

I'm going to miss umping in the fall, but there'll be plenty of chaos to keep me occupied. Which is good, because the continual meltdown of the nation will undoubtedly pummel my psyche some more.

Meanwhile, there's three weeks of baseball left before the postseason and I've got tickets for three more Seattle Mariner games with the ever-present possibility of an extra or two. Despite their crappy last three weeks or so in which the M's went 6-15, they've decided to put some effort into it here at the end and have won their last three with 18 games to go. They're somehow only two games worse off in the standings since starting that 6-15 would-be collapse, going from tied for first place to, well, two behind, and two games is plenty surmountable with 18 left, especially since three of those 18 are against the team they're chasing. I say that, but I've also been a fan of Your Seattle Mariners for long enough to know that the most likely outcome is yet another missed-it-by-that-much end to the season.

This week also will see the season finale of Strange New Worlds, which has been really uneven in this third season of the series. After I have a chance to process Wednesday night's episode, I think a season recap/analysis post will be necessary since this show has been so frustrating to me—it has been so good in prior years, has the potential to be really great, and has shortchanged itself this season in some annoying ways.

Also, I watched Thunderbolts* the other night, having skipped it in the theaters. You know what? Pretty good. Certainly by the standard of recent efforts from Marvel Studios. I'd been forewarned by Erik's review that I probably ought to be in a decent headspace when I saw it, and I was. It is an interesting way to go, making depression the actual Big Bad of the film. Wielded by The Sentry, a character I was aware of in comicdom (a would-be Superman type created on purpose by nefarious experiments but that ends up being unstable) but never paid much attention to, I appreciate the way the depression was depicted, with Sentry's victims just poofing away leaving an ashy shadow behind; later we see what happens to them post-poof, they're trapped in a mindspace of sorts, reliving their traumatic or hurtful memories over and over. It's not a perfect representation, but damned if it isn't at least in the ballpark. The solution is for our reluctant (except for gung-ho Red Star, played to perfection by David Harbour) would-be heroes to coax Sentry out of his depressive episode and then after that restores everyone to normal keep working with him to manage his moods. There's also some absolute-power-corrupts-absolutely messaging here, which is good, but it is entirely unsatisfying to have the film end with Julia Louis-Dreyfuss' character Allegra de Fontaine slither out of trouble and manipulate things to her advantage again. Maybe that's appropriate given the real world we're living in, but that's also the main reason it's so irritating. Can't these criminal asshats even face justice in our comic-book movies??

Anyway, new week, new turn of the page, life goes on.

 

Tagged Umping, Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Star Trek, Movies, Posted on September 9, 2025 at 7:13PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Trickle-down bitterness

The other night I had an umpiring shift that included something I'm not accustomed to these days—hostility directed at me from a player.

You'd think I'd have been in a better mindset to recognize/deal with such a thing; before the shift began, I and my fellow ump Laz, who was working the other field, had been comparing notes on difficult teams and conflict with players since Laz had some issues the previous day. But no, none of that stayed in my upper consciousness once I got going with the game, so when I had a close play at second base in the early innings and called the runner out, his irritated backtalk didn't really phase me and I just moved on. Then every subsequent time that player was involved in a play, offensively or defensively, he had something to say about me. Not directly to me, he had things to say to his fellows in the dugout—just making sure he was loud enough that I'd hear him.

After the third such remark I got it that he wasn't somehow trying to be funny, that he meant things literally, and it started to bug me; it also confused me, though, because I've gotten a little full of myself in this gig. I'm used to being everyone's favorite umpire. (Not everyone's, obviously; I mean, Laz has fans despite his newness to the league, which he should since he's good.)

Most players that have been around for a while know me by name and are glad to have me working their games. It's an unusual shift if no one asks me as they're getting ready to leave if I'll be doing their next games or not and if not asking me if I can't switch things around so I will. Once I was running behind schedule and texted Laz that I was going to be 10 minutes late or so to the park and would he please tell my teams to hang in there; Laz's reply was that they were "willing to wait without making trouble, but only because it's you coming." Banter even before I was there in person. Even in cases when a player argues with me about a call, most often after the game ends that player wants to make sure I knew it was just a heat of the moment reaction and s/he gets that it's a tough gig and close calls are part of the deal, no hard feelings. And if I blow a call and know it, I always own up to it even though most times it can't be undone; nine times out of ten, that goes over well and buys good will.

The guy the other night would have been the tenth out of ten had I actually got something wrong and knew it and said so. Makes me wonder what his life must be like elsewhere, can't be much fun.

Anyway, after that game was over I went up to this fellow and asked him what was up. "You've been badmouthing me the whole game, it can't just be from that close call at second, so let's have it. What's going on?" It was an attempt at conflict resolution, but either my tone was off or he just wasn't interested in coming to any understandings (maybe both). He then reminded me of the last time I had his team, about three or four weeks prior, when I also called him out on a close play at second base. Once he mentioned it, I recalled it was an almost identical play, including him sliding in and kicking up so much dust as to make the view of the tag questionable. He was still pissed off about that, had been holding a grudge about it. I told him that close plays were part of the game, they're bound to happen, and they always inevitably go against someone. He just doubled down on his hostility, offered me $100 to never umpire again, told me I sucked at it, and wanted me to know he was better than me in every way. OK, goodbye, then, conversation over. I turned away to get prepped for the next game and heard him continuing to badmouth me to others (but not as loudly this time). One of the players waiting for the next game, having heard some the exchange, came up to me and let me know that he and his team would have my back if necessary, which I appreciated but also dismissed—this guy wasn't looking for a physical fight and I wouldn't let him have one if he was. Too much machismo was the whole problem, after all, no need to add to it.

It's a nothing incident. A comment from another witness player reminded me of something else that happened after that game weeks ago that the hostile was holding a grudge from, when after the dustup someone asked me from the bleachers how often grown men yell at me about a rec-league game with no stakes at all. "More often than anyone would think appropriate," or something like that, was my reply.

Shit like that happens. Like Laz and I were saying before the shift, sometimes some people are asshats and the worst part of the gig is finding the line where competitive macho asshattery crosses into unacceptable abuse asshattery that ruins things for the rest of the participants and requires ejections or other means of reminding people who has authority.

Being me, of course, it took me a good hour or so to process the experience out of my head to the point that I was clearheaded for the rest of my shift. I always replay things in my head, puzzle over what I said, think of better things I could have said, wonder if my ego is so needy that this should bother me, then eventually just conclude that sometimes some people are asshats.

Fortunately, the rest of the night was filled entirely with players of good cheer and fun attitudes that didn't take things seriously even though their games were (a) a tight one that came down to the last batter of the game and (b) a lopsided trouncing that resulted in a 36-0 shutout.

Since then I've alternatively completely forgotten about this incident and pondered the why of sometimes some people are asshats. In this particular time in the world, I think people have shorter fuses, have more frayed nerves than ever, and are quicker to explode than what had been normal. Me included. There's so much threatening us on a daily basis from our alleged leaders that it's hard to remember we're supposed to be civilized. Or, for those on the other side, there's a new and intoxicating permission structure to lash out, to take responsibility for nothing, to make anything and everything into a grievance that personally offends and demands retribution.

It's like the GOP has finally found a scenario where the "trickle-down" theory works: Supply-side spite, anxiety, and antagonism.

Tagged Umping, Politics, Softball, Posted on August 20, 2025 at 8:00PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Celebrating the greats

Seattle's Hall of Fame #51s

This past weekend was Ichiro Suzuki weekend at the ballpark by Elliott Bay. The newly-inducted Hall of Famer had his jersey number 51 retired in a pregame ceremony on Saturday, which included a fine speech from the man itself, just two weeks after he gave a different speech at the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. He began his remarks by saying, "Who's idea was it to have me give two speeches in English in two weeks?" calling it "one of the toughest challenges of my career." This got the requisite laugh, and Ichiro demonstrated a more than competent command of the language, which he remains somewhat insecure about despite having greater fluency than the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue demonstrates on a daily basis.

It was a nice speech, humble yet acknowledging of his merit in receiving the honor, and pointed in its advice to the current team of Seattle Mariners—seize this moment. "As Edgar [Martínez, Mariner batting coach and fellow Hall of Famer] and Dan [Wilson, the Mariners' manager] know, winning is tough.... The thing about winning is it is always tough and never comes without pressure," he said. "Accept the pressure and figure out how you can perform at your best." The other unexpected thing was the amount of time Ichiro devoted to the man who wore 51 before him, fellow Hall of Famer Randy Johnson. Randy will have his own number retirement next year, and the two of them seem to really enjoy each other. Johnson was among the several Mariner greats and luminaries in attendance and the two of them taking selfies and goofing around afterward was a fun cap on the event before the game began. Ichiro will attend Randy's ceremony as well and will no doubt engage on more clowning around then. (No word on whether or not Rey Quiñones will be invited.)

Yesterday the festivities continued in a way, with giveaway replica Hall of Fame plaques (I didn't get one despite arriving more than an hour early) and video tributes between innings and such, but aside form the Mariner victory—their seventh straight and a capper on a 9-1 homestand—the highlight was the ceremonial first pitch, thrown by Ichiro to Johnson, whose six-foot-ten frame was decked out in catcher Cal Raleigh's chest protector and shin guards, which looked like a grown man wearing the clothes of a six-year-old. Both wore Sunday-variant versions of Mariner jerseys with 51 on the back and posed for more goofy pictures.

I umpired Friday night, missed an opportunity to attend Saturday night, and did attend yesterday afternoon before again umpiring last night. But I watched all three games and enjoyed them all, bookended by umping shifts that were fun and included plenty of appreciation from players. Pretty decent weekend, well timed and needed given the continuing state of the world.

It wasn't worth taking the time to come home after the M's game and then turn around an hour later to go back to Cap Hill to ump, so I spent the intervening time at Elliott Bay Books, where I ran into one of the softball players I've become vaguely acquainted with over the years (and who I would see later in the evening on the field). She recommended to me a sci-fi novel called The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, which I purchased and read the first few chapters of while awaiting the start of my shift. So far so good.

 

Tagged Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Ichiro, Umping, Books, Posted on August 11, 2025 at 5:14PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Navigating the new normal

Every day there's a new outrage in the news surrounding the regime occupying 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Every. Damn. Day. It just doesn't let up, except maybe during the weekends when the wannabe king is off cheating at golf.

Whether it's relocating his buddy the convicted child sex-trafficker from a high-security facility to a cushy "Club Fed" prison, human rights abuses at his Florida concentration camp, his HHS secretary setting back vaccine research and development by decades, his open declaration that he needs states to further gerrymander their congressional districts because he feels "entitled"—seriously, he said "entitled"—to five additional Republican seats in the House from Texas, or opening up bullshit investigations into the perfectly legal activities of Democratic officeholders, every day there's more crime committed by the alleged President of the United States and his regime of sycophantic neo-Nazis.

It's overwhelming.

Once again, our friend Craig Calcaterra has put something into words that is more eloquent than what I feel like I could articulate at the moment:

I honestly think something has happened in the past six months that has prevented me from ever truly understanding and, possibly, caring about most of the nonsense afoot in this country. Like, I lack the energy to mock or critique on most days. I just stare into the middle distance and offer an accepting nod. The acceptance is not substantive, of course. It's just acceptance of the fact that, yes, this is how people are now and it's doubtful that anything is going to break the fever of insanity which has overtaken so, so many of them.

This is how I've been feeling, though I don't think "acceptance" is quite the right word. Close. Not sure what would be better.

But a significant percentage of people in this country—including, importantly, people in Congress, who could put a stop to all this tomorrow if they wanted to—embrace this "fever of insanity," as Craig put it, and the rest of us suffer for it while we watch the end of the Republic barrel along at ludicrous speed.

I'm certainly not one to advocate tuning out. We can't fight the authoritarian takeover if we're not aware of what's going down. But for personal mental health reasons, I have been allowing life outside of politics to kind of pretend things are normal and just try to enjoy things that, so far, have not collapsed into nightmare fuel.

I've been watching some good TV—"Upload," "Platonic," ST:SNW—reading Enterprise fanfiction, even getting in a little bicycling. And, naturally, baseball and softball.

I had an umpiring shift tonight, championship games, which tend to bring out the worst in people. But tonight was almost entirely positive, with only one player giving me grief for a strike call that he had no business being mouthy about. Otherwise it was good spirits all around and general fun, plus some ego boosts for me when, upon my arrival, several players from the adjacent field objected that Laz was umping their games and not me (hey, Laz is a good dude, cut him a break); players in games I did officiate went out of their way to compliment my style and declare me "best ump we've ever had," which I will take given the state of my head lately.

The other night I attended the Mariner game with my friend Dave, and clearly I had a good time talking with him throughout the game because my scorebook has a number of scribbles in it where I had to cross things out and correct because I had lost track of who was batting or whathaveyou. Too busy conversing with Dave to have a clean scorebook. (Good game, too, went from what looked like a blowout in the making to a close one at the end, with the M's prevailing.) Sunday I have both another M's game and an ump shift to look forward to, a rare Sunday night shift of three games at Cap Hill. Hopefully those will also be engaging, fun, and leave me in a good mood.

'Cause the news sure isn't going to help me.

Tagged Politics, Umping, Seattle Mariners, Posted on August 9, 2025 at 12:02AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Laugh when you can while depression abounds

Hiya, netizens. It's been a few weeks. I've had a couple of folks check in with me to see if all was well, given my brain chemistry issues, so I figured a new post was in order.

The lack of posts hasn't entirely been black-hole related, but I have been fighting the gravity a bit. Not in a really dark, can't-get-out-of-bed sort of way, more in a mild ennui kind of way. Weary. Lethargic. Spurred on by the continual descent of the country into dictatorship and the corresponding frustration and anger with all the idiots who voted Republican despite having seen the sneak preview version of this play from 2017-2021.

Anyway. I won't turn this into a political rant today, at least not yet, because coherence when thinking about it is elusive. There's too much. Which atrocity to focus on? What can be said that hasn't been said already elsewhere? So I'll save that for later.

Instead, I'll just share something that amused me greatly when watching the baseball game from last Saturday between Your Seattle Mariners and the visiting Texas Rangers. There were two outs in the inning, M's at bat, Julio Rodríguez on 2nd base. Batter Josh Naylor taps a comebacker to the pitcher, who has a brain cramp and throws to third base trying to get the lead runner out even though he had an easy play at first which would have ended the inning. The throw gets past the third baseman because he wasn't expecting to be thrown to, Julio scores the tying run, Naylor safe at first, the inning continues.

This is something I had never seen in a big-league game but see all the frickin' time as a softball umpire. It has become kind of an inside joke just for me, one that I have stated out loud on occasion to the next batter in such a softball game, that one day, sometime before the heat death of the universe, I will be umpiring a game wherein the score is tight in a late inning and the defensive team takes the easy out at first to end an inning rather than attempt to get a lead runner instead. (To be fair, teams do take the easy out now and then, but never in a tense situation.) So when seven-year Major League veteran Merrill Kelly of the Texas Rangers did it I laughed very hard.

The M's still lost, though. Oh well.

Tagged Baseball, Seattle Mariners, The Black Hole, Politics, Umping, Posted on August 5, 2025 at 8:58PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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