Sunday activity

Yesterday saw POTUS47 commit yet another impeachable offense by illegally deploying the National Guard to put down a protest and incite violence in Los Angeles. That's just par for the course in 2025, though, so it might not have made your particular newsfeed. But it happened. Since it happened 2,000 miles away form me, though, and this sort of thing doesn't move the media needle anymore, I wasn't aware of it because I was otherwise occupied on the ballfield.

We're having record-breaking heat here, so it was a taxing day for me. Fortunately, I am well-liked by the teams I umpire for (mostly), so I was kept well-hydrated when I ran out of my own water and gatorade by players tossing me bottles from their own coolers. I got through my games without any real difficulties. (The one time there was a problem no one complained; a batter hit a popup with runners aboard that was deeper than the infield dirt and not immediately near a defender, so I didn't call the infield fly rule; I should have, though, because the defending shortstop had proven himself to be quite good and in fact he did get under the pop and let it fall, proceeding to attempt a double-play. So I did the unusual thing and called the rule after-the-fact, owning my mistake and placing one of the runners back on base. Everyone was cool with it.)

The final game involved The Leftovers, who as readers know are among my favorites, and though they lost in a squeaker, 10-9, they always make a game more fun for me to work and this time they even invited me out to the bar with them after the game. So I joined them for a short while and shared tales from the umpiring side while they told of their experiences with other umps and other teams. We talked about the Mariners latest slide in the standings, our respective elderly parents, and how I am frankly so much older than all the other umpires in the league yet also the most active on the field.

It was a nice time, and when I returned home the heat of the day had caught up with me and I developed a gargantuan headache that was probably building all through the afternoon under the direct sun and I took some ibuprofen and read until I finally conked out. 

Tonight I have a briefer shift, tomorrow a standard three-gamer, Wednesday I'm playing, Thursday back for three, and Friday for two before a killer 8-hour day on Sunday. Here's hoping I can stave off the heatstroke.

Tagged Politics, President VonClownstick, Softball, Umping, Posted on June 9, 2025 at 5:06PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Spikeball sucks the fun out of everything

After being out sick for must of my scheduled umpiring last week and working sick for the rest, the other night I was back on the field in the Capitol Hill neighborhood for what turned out to be an exceptionally good shift of games. Now, was it really so much better than my average umpire shift is? Perhaps not; I may have just felt that way because the previous time I was out there I was getting by with the aid of cold meds and barely able to stand up by the time the shift was over. Regardless, I had a good time out there and I daresay the players all did too.

But anytime I'm umping at Cap Hill, there are problems. This time, thankfully, it wasn't the soccer hooligans; the soccer guys actually volunteered to move out of the way ahead of my asking them to, a first and possibly a unique event in the annals of time for all of history. No, this week's Cap Hill shenanigans centered around two groups of people: the completely wasted tribe of eight or ten folks in deep left field that didn't even react when they were hit with a fly ball and some of whom were riding this giant spool like they were in a log roll or something and not caring when the giant spool became an interference object for would-be extra-base hits; and the perpetrators of a half-dozen or so games of spikeball being played in deep right field.

I don't understand spikeball, I had to even ask what it was called, but I do know that even though spikeball players think they're only using a small confined space, that changes every time their ball bounces off their little trampoline into our field of play. Which, it turns out, is pretty often. So there were a lot of instances of me halting a pitcher in mid-motion, calling time out between pitches, that sort of thing, when an errant ball and/or a person chasing it got in the way.

As I said, this was otherwise a really good evening out there, the prime reason for which was all the players were in great moods and were jovial and laughing and having a good time among their own teams and bantering with their opponents, just a fun tenor that usually is ... more subdued, I guess?  Anyway, one of these banterings was in progress when I had to call time out again, and the catcher—one of my favorite players in the league, I always enjoy when she catches—said unprompted, "Spikeball sucks the fun out of everything."

It was just a throwaway line, said in jest but kind of a ha-ha-then-we-move-on comment, but for some reason in the moment it just ticked us. The line itself became kind of fun, thus rendering it its own oxymoron, but we had plenty of opportunity to repeat it as the night wore on.

I'm next on the field on Sunday at Green Lake, which I'm not looking forward to as much because it's a five-gamer. Those are only fun for, say, three-and-a-half games, then they're in the category of can-this-be-over-now-no-there's-more-oh-crap.

 

Tagged Umping, Softball, Posted on April 24, 2025 at 11:35PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Life problems on the micro and macro scales

I spent much of the past week feeling sick. I mean that in a literal, there-were-germs-and-a-rhinovirus-involved kind of sick, not in a I'm-nauseated-by-our-fascist-convicted-felon-president kind of sick, although that type is ever-present these days.

This may or may not have something to do with my umpiring 6½ hours in steady rain a week ago Sunday. Can't say, really. But it was the sort of thing that is mostly annoying, saps your energy and fills your head with copious amounts of mucus. Not that big a deal, though it did force me to bail on more than a couple hundred dollars' worth of ump shifts over the weekend. I was listed as day-to-day, as it were, on the ump's injured list, but I thought I was OK to go last night so I reported to the field for three games at Capitol Hill.

Probably not a good idea. I mean, I got through it and wasn't any worse for wear, but I was seriously off my game. A congested, foggy-headed, cold-medicine-addled, slow-witted umpire is not exactly the ideal circumstance. It was a playoff night, too, so everyone except me was extra-amped up, and all three games were close, I couldn't even just coast through a blowout.

One team, the oh-so-cleverly named Sons of Pitches, was quite pissed with me after their game, as three bang-bang calls went against them, including one that ended the game. Not only were some of them yelling at me directly, but I overheard their captain and others badmouthing me in the dugout, and you know, (a) I had zero patience for any of that last night, but (b) they might well have a real beef, because aside from the last one (which I have no doubts about) I have no idea if those close calls were correct or not. Honestly, I didn't even see one of them, I was out of position and looking into the setting sun. Usually, if I blow a call or am even unsure of it, I'll own it on the spot. I'll even ask players what their view was. Nine times out of ten there's no going back on it, but I feel like it's better for everyone if we just say, "yup, that was a brain fart, let's do better" and move on. But I wasn't having any of that yesterday, all I wanted to do was get through the damn shift. SoPs was the only one of the six teams I had last night that didn't know me very well; I'd done maybe two games with them before, whereas everyone else has been around for years and I'm on a first-name basis with half of each squad and they all cut me a little slack. Oh well, I can live with not being one team's favorite umpire.

The other two games were without any acrimony, but they dragged on and I was completely gassed by the time we finally wrapped up about 25 minutes behind schedule. Fortunately, when I got home my neighbor Sean offered me a late-night homemade mac-and-cheese dinner that I didn't have to prepare myself, which lifted my spirits a bit. Thanks, Sean!

I'd have been better off trying to negotiate a trade of last night for tonight or tomorrow's shift, but as we say on Earth, c'est la vie.

 

Meanwhile, in the greater world, POTUS47 and the White House staff are now lying through their teeth about Supreme Court rulings while defying judges and going full-on fascist and yet Republicans in Congress remain silent feckless toadies when they could end this nightmare right now.

Nazi Stephen Miller, who if you can believe it is the White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy—he's the Josh Lyman of this group of totalitarian fuckers—was both caught on mic in the Oval Office and deliberately went on television to say the the Supreme Court's 9-0 ruling affirming a lower court's order that the administration must facilitate and effectuate the return of the mistakenly-deported Maryland man, Kilmar Abrego Garcia, from the El Salvadoran gulag DHS and ICE abducted him to, was actually a 9-0 ruling that no judge can tell the administration to do anything about Mr. Abrego Garcia. Pure fiction, 180 degrees—well, thanks to John Roberts and his predilection for obfuscation, say 170 degrees—from the truth, and for good measure also claimed that when several officials admitted that Abrego Garcia was deported by mistake that those officials were the ones in error and Abrego Garcia was picked up intentionally! If anything, that would make this whole matter even worse, as Abrego Garcia had a prior court order in good standing specifying he could not be sent to El Salvador as that was the country he was seeking asylum from, meaning if we take Miller at his word (as if) then the administration is willfully defying a wholly different court order in addition to the one he is lying about the contents of.

It irks me greatly that this malevolent speck of a man, this evil creature, has the same name as one of my friends from high school, but what can you do. The guy's name is the least of his problems.

The regime has made it clear yesterday and today that it has no intention of complying with the court's order to retrieve Mr. Abrego Garcia and even intends to widen the net of DHS abductions, with President Convicted Felon telling the El Salvadoran dictator that he needs to build more gulags for all the "criminals" he intends to send there.

The entire White House communications apparatus—or, perhaps more appropriately, the propaganda division—has been twisting the words that Roberts added into the Court's ruling away from their obvious meaning and into a pretzel that claims they mean something completely different. "Facilitate" simply means, according to the White House, an update to immigration status. Roberts included other language—"The intended scope of the term 'effectuate' in the District Court’s order is, however, unclear, and may exceed the District Court’s authority. The District Court should clarify its directive, with due regard for the deference owed to the Executive Branch in the conduct of foreign affairs"—that has been seized upon by Miller and the rest of the White House fascist regime to mean whatever they want it to mean, that "deference" is functionally the same as "absolute deference" and that "may exceed" is the same as "massive overreach," not to mention that the word "effectuate" is not at all in need of clarification. What John Roberts did there is find a way that he could throw the regime a bone while still not completely blowing up his credibility as an adherent to the Constitution.

Justice Sonia Sotomayor felt the need to append Roberts' order with her own statement that lays out the egregiousness of this case. Her statement reads, in part:

The Government’s argument, moreover, implies that it could deport and incarcerate any person, including U.S. citizens, without legal consequence, so long as it does so before a court can intervene.... Because every factor governing requests for equitable relief manifestly weighs against the Government, I would have declined to intervene in this litigation and denied the application in full. Nevertheless, I agree with the Court’s order that the proper remedy is to provide Abrego Garcia with all the process to which he would have been entitled had he not been unlawfully removed to El Salvador. That means the Government must comply with its obligation to provide Abrego Garcia with “due process of law,” including notice and an opportunity to be heard, in any future proceedings. It must also comply with its obligations under the Convention Against Torture. ... In the proceedings on remand, the District Court should continue to ensure that the Government lives up to its obligations to follow the law.

It's that first line that should make every Congressperson call for immediate impeachment of POTUS47 right this second. "The Government’s argument, moreover, implies that it could deport and incarcerate any person, including U.S. citizens, without legal consequence, so long as it does so before a court can intervene." The White House's statements and inactions since this ruling make clear that it is no mere implication, that is precisely what this regime wants to do.

Tagged Softball, Umping, Politics, President VonClownstick, Posted on April 15, 2025 at 6:04PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Odds and ends

Cory Booker, giving his party a 25-hour kick in the ass

Just a post to catch up on a few disparate things over the past week or two. I'm a bit scatterbrained, have been for a few days, and am having some trouble keeping a train of thought going long enough for a coherent topic-focused post. Usually this sort of foggy-brain stuff is an indication of a Black Hole episode looming or in progress, but by 2025 standards—read: in the midst of existential dread from the fascist takeover of the government—it's been relatively OK of late. Still, being aware of this is sometimes half the battle, so I'm on my guard.

Anyway, onward with a hodgepodge of stuff:

• Hats off to Cory Booker. His marathon speech, disrupting the usual business of the Senate for over 25 hours, was something all prior filibuster-like holding-the-floor events were not: completely substantive. And while holding the floor for 25 hours plus—on his feet, no breaks, no food, talking continuously except for brief periods colleagues asked questions—was undeniably difficult, coming up with 25 hours' worth of substantive material to speak on was not, because this speech was about the abuses and corruption and illegality and treachery of the POTUS47 regime. There was no recitation of "Green Eggs and Ham" (Ted Cruz) or apple pie recipes (the fictional Howard Stackhouse) or aloud readings of Alexis de Tocqueville (Strom Thurmond). No need, the litany of POTUS47 crimes and destruction could fill twice that time or more.

  Naysayers have downplayed Booker's speech as meaningless, wholly performative, and a "stunt," but they're wrong. I mean, yes, it was a stunt, but stunts are cool, that's why we have action movies. In this case, the stunt was meaningful and the performance purposeful—it served to galvanize Booker's Democratic colleagues into actually doing shit.

  It's been just over ten weeks since President Convicted Felon took office again, which to be fair, is usually about how long DC pols take to move on anything, but in this case we all knew before those ten weeks even began that a clusterfuck was coming and staunch opposition was required. Thus, for ten weeks plus, we the greater public have been pleading for Congress to act and instead the Republican majority of both houses chose to abdicate their authority and suck up to the fascists while the Democratic leadership, while outraged, did very little.

  That's changing now. Is that all thanks to Booker's stunt? No, not entirely, but Booker has spurred his fellow Dems on by commanding attention. The reaction to Booker, added to the increasing action in the streets with the Tesla Takedown protests and the large turnout in special elections, has seemingly done more than all the letters constituents have sent to their representatives put together in prompting action. Adam Schiff and Ruben Gallego have declared they'll be throwing as much sand in the gears as they can to block destructive nominees to the Justice department and Veterans Administration. Schiff and Jamie Raskin are convening "shadow hearings"—with Republicans in the majority, these aren't official Congressional hearings that come with subpoena power, but they'll still serve to get information and put it on the record and in front of the public—regarding the decimation of the Justice Department.

  It's not impeachment, but it's a start.

• I sure am glad I converted all my meager investments in the stock market to a simple money market account last month, because look what happened today. Again, this was predictable. In fact, it was predicted. Repeatedly. All through the 2024 election campaign. But the American voter is, in the aggregate, willfully ignorant and so here we are.

  It is truly astonishing that the Republican party is not only allowing this to happen but championing it. This is the party that supposedly supports free markets and free enterprise and yet here they are taking a blowtorch to the global economy. Why? Because their leader is an imbecile that does not know and cannot be bothered to learn that a tariff is not what he thinks it is, that "trade deficit" is a term of art and not actual debt, that recklessly pissing off every nation in the world except Russia and North Korea is not a sign of strength, that making it impossible to import raw materials does not in fact help American manufacturing, and that driving inflation through the roof is actually a political loser. And they support their leader no matter how stupid and destructive and treasonous he is.

  Here's how our old friend Craig Calcaterra put it using clearer phrasing than I did: "Trump did this because he's a big stupid fucking idiot who doesn't know anything and because he has surrounded himself with cowards and idiots who are afraid to tell him anything he doesn't want to hear and who refuse to exercise their considerable power to rein him in."

• Yet, the economic catastrophe isn't the worst thing in the news. It's not even close. Jockeying for the top spot in the ranks of Worst Thing Happening Right Now is the actions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. ICE has always been a problematic agency, but now, under this regime, it is essentially the Gestapo. Not a joke, as our former president (the good and decent one of just three months ago) might say. ICE, sometimes identified as such and sometimes not, is kidnapping people off the street and sometimes interning them at for-profit domestic detention hellholes and sometimes rendering them to a Salvadoran hellhole, all with no due process whatsoever (or, as of today, interrupted due process). This is being done under the pretense of an "invasion" of the U.S. by a Venezuelan gang and the separate pretense of removing anti-Semitic troublemakers.

  Via Mary Trump, at least six people rendered to the El Salvador gulag have been definitively identified as having no ties to any gang, Venezuelan or otherwise, and that doesn't count the Maryland resident that ICE admits it sent to El Salvador due to "an administrative error" but has no intention of bringing back. It's not just brown people with tattoos or hijabs being swept up, either. This chaos even puts Canadians at risk of abuse and disappearance.

  This cannot stand. President Convicted Felon's American Gestapo must be stopped, and god bless the courts for doing their job in trying to right these wrongs, but without support from Congress I fear that isn't going to matter.

• Let's move on from the disasters sweeping the nation and by extension the world and talk baseball.

  Despite opening the season against the better-than-you-think-but-still-not-very-good formerly-Oakland A's, Your Seattle Mariners are just 3-4 after a week of play. Sadly, their performance thus far, even in the wins, resembles early 2024 far more than it does late 2024—good starting pitching, but anemic hitting and a whole lot of striking out. On the other hand, the sac fly rate is already double what it was under Scott Servais last year, so there's that. Anyway, early days, one week is hardly an adequate sample size to draw any conclusions from. I mean, the Padres are 7-0 and I figure they're going to end up around .500; Atlanta is 0-7 and they'll be in the thick of things.

  Some observations: The M's now have an ad on their sleeves, which sucks but isn't a surprise. Aesthetically it looks worse than the ads on some other teams' sleeves because it's bright orange. Come on, you couldn't get [video game company] to agree to use a navy or silver background, it has to be orange? On the other hand, the terrible uniforms from last year are history and the jerseys are much more professional looking again, with actual silver instead of dull gray and more standard lettering on the nameplates and heavy enough that you can't see what's being worn underneath.

• Softball has continued for me as an umpire and is approaching as a player, with my Smiling Potatoes of Death team readying to start a season next month. This is in two different leagues, obviously, and there are loads of differences between them. I much prefer the rules and setup of the league I ump for to the one I play in, I can't think of a single thing the latter does better than the former. I got drafted into a co-captain role with the Spuds this year, so I was on the conference call with the league and other team reps earlier this week talking about rules and such, and I was disappointed to learn that a lot of what I don't like is mandated by the organization the parks department contracts with so there's not much room for variation: it's mandatory to start with a 1-1 count, it's mandatory to have that stupid-ass no plays at the plate rule. Where there was argument over things we do have a say in was in roster and lineup construction, something again my umpiring league does much better than the other one, but at least there's small positive change there—we'll no longer have the alternating one-lineup-for-men, one-lineup-for-women thing in the city league, which wasn't exactly smooth.

  This week's ump shifts didn't provide much in the way of good stories to tell, I'd say six of the eight games I did were pretty standard. Though Sunday was a five-gamer, and those are brutal. By the time the fourth game is going I'm ready for it all to be over with and I've got no patience left for any tomfoolery. Fortunately, the fifth game was drama-free and ended early. Still, I had to do three more the next night and I wasn't in the mood for it. Plus, the first game on that schedule was between teams that have a history of, let's call it antagonism, so I was going in thinking more about how to deal with potential trouble than keeping my head in the game itself and it showed. There was some trouble to deal with, but it was minimal and came rather late; before that I was off my game a bit but really only made one mistake (prematurely calling a foul pop out of play that turned out not to be, and sadly when one of the few people on that team that annoys me sometimes was up so I got lip from him about it and a later call that properly went against him). Still, it wasn't fun and I was glad when that game ended and those teams—whom I usually quite enjoy when they aren't playing each other—got the hell off the field. Fortunately, the night ended with a palate cleanser game played by people with mostly excellent attitudes and good cheer.

  One thing about that Monday night, though—if I'd had a Capitol Hill Softball bingo card it would have been pretty full. Lots of, let's say, environmental color. I'm there again on Sunday, we'll see if I can get a bingo then.

Tagged Politics, President VonClownstick, Softball, Umping, Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Posted on April 3, 2025 at 6:49PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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The world sucks, and other observations

Quality TV as an escape from the world crumbling around us

It's been a rough week. Following a rough few weeks. I mean, in the world. I've already mentioned how it's been influencing my state of mind, and it continues to. But there is life beyond the chaos and destruction raging all around us. For now, anyway.

Some stray items and thoughts on the past week or so:

• I had some folks over the other night for food and conversation and general socializing, which was good. It was good in that some of these folks I hadn't seen in a long time and it's always good to catch up a bit; it was good that some people got to meet some other people that had only existed as faceless anecdotes before; it was good in the very base sense that human interaction is necessary. I've not had as much of that as I'd like of late.
• Some of the human interactions of late weren't good, though, including a near-fistfight at one of my umpiring shifts the other day. It made no sense to me, was based entirely, it seems, on some machismo bullshit carried over from prior seasons—the sort of Phil Nevin/Anthony Rendon/Jesse Winker-type posturing I have no patience for even on the best of days—and it ruined an otherwise decent afternoon/evening. I had to stop being Fun Umpire Guy on a dime and immediately shift into Guy In Charge With Authority, warn players, and was a hair's breadth from ejecting multiple men and women (!! it's almost never the women, but this time...) before one of the team captains settled his crew down a literal instant under the wire. There are on occasion days when I half-expect some sort of nonsense to occur during a shift, but never in the winter time. The teams that sign up for winter league are the die-hards that play all the time, that are so familiar to each other and to we the umpires that it's generally easy-going. (The real assholery tends to happen in the summer, when guys that are bitter about not making their JV teams in college sign up for a slot and ruin things with uber-competitiveness.) Fortunately, my relationship with the involved teams is good enough that when I saw a bunch of the players the next night everyone was cool and ready to play a conflict-free game, but hoo-boy was I not receptive to being told by rec-league softball players in a stakes-less environment that I needed to abide by some macho code of utter crapola because they were pissed off about a guy on the other team lining one back through the box. Half a dozen f-ing Phil Nevins in my face at the end of that game. Get a grip.
• Apple TV has some really good programming. If you've got budget for only one streaming service, that's probably the one you want—not just the best-of-the-best Ted Lassos and For All Mankinds, but there's great stuff in Severance, Silo, Shrinking, The Big Door Prize, The Morning Show, Sunny, Dark Matter, and the two shows I binged through in the past week: Constellation and Shining Girls. Both are just single-season, eight-episode series; the former deserves a renewal and more but won't get it, the latter wrapped up at an end point. Constellation—I had to watch it with that name, right?—is a mind-bending story following an astronaut who survives a massive accident on the ISS and returns to Earth to find things not as she left them; we learn over the course of things that two other former astronauts experienced much the same thing in years past and it's a WTF sort of mystery and psycho-thriller sci-fi exploration with quantum physics. Shining Girls is a more gritty, Earthbound murder-mystery sort of thing that also hinges on mind-bending quantum physics weirdness that stars Elisabeth Moss and only disappoints a little bit when it gets to the end and the source of the mind-bendiness is located but remains unexplained. Ambitious and well-done, both of them.
• Ty France has a job again. The former Seattle Mariner first baseman signed for the upcoming season with the Minnesota Twins and explained to reporters why he's coming off of some bad seasons. Spoiler warning: I was right. France had some smallish injury issues last year, but as he said to the press, it wasn't really the injury. He doesn't name-drop former Mariners manager Scott Servais or former Mariner "batting coach" Jarret DeHart, but he said that after he hit a rough patch early in 2023, he focused on analytics—Stacast-type nonsense like launch angles and barrel rates—which are the only things DeHart seemed to know anything about or care at all about. “There was a lot of it—the analytical side—where I tried to tap into, that I shouldn't tap into,” he said. “I should just worry about being a baseball player and hitting the ball.” After leaving the Mariners and the Servais/DeHart school of not-hitting, France started coming back into his own with Cincinnati. “When I’m at my best, I’m not focused on analytics. I’m just simplifying hitting ... the last year or two hasn’t been fun baseball for me. I think my time in Cincinnati last year, having that reset, I found that joy again." Do I still think Ty France is going to win a batting title or two? Well, I'm not as sure as I was when he first came to the M's, but if he can stay away from Jarret DeHart and keep from getting hurt too much, then...yeah, it wouldn't surprise me at all.
• And, back to the collapse of the nation, I thought last night's "A" block form Rachel Maddow was worth passing around. I live in the Pacific Northwest, and though it's not like Hanford is in my back yard, it is in my state. And similar issues are rampant across the country now that POTUS47 and his boss Elon are taking a blowtorch to the government. It just astounds me that this is allowed to happen—every single elected Republican, it seems, is on board with destroying the United States. The Senators just confirm these dangerously unqualified and destructive cabinet officers without objection, the Representatives in the House have the power to impeach all of these agents of chaos and disaster but don't see any need. They've all got to go. All of them.

Tagged Politics, TV, President VonClownstick, Baseball, Rachel Maddow, Umping, Posted on February 19, 2025 at 2:21AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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TV time and other stray thoughts

Did you know there was more Resident Alien? There is!

Last night I was umpiring playoff games, which was a reminder that we're nearing the end of 2023’s softball action for umpiring (softball action as a player ended for the year several weeks back). As the staggered-schedule late-summer leagues wrap up, there are fewer of them to go around for us umps and the last one standing will end in just a few more weeks. With luck, the remainder of my season will follow the pattern of last night, which featured many of my favorite players/teams to work with and was a fun time. It may have been a first, a shift of 3 or more games in which every game had at least two faves in it. Those are the good nights. No troubles. Or rather, even if there are troubles, they're minor and nobody raises a stink if I have to do something unconventional to make up for missing something on the field, as was the case with a weird multiple-baserunner play yesterday. Attitude is everything for umpires at this level of rec league, we're not invested in who wins (well, we're not supposed to be, anyway) we just want everyone to have a good time and to not be yelled at or belittled if we screw up a call. (And especially not when we didn't screw up a call but a player thinks we did. Those are the worst.)

Anyway, this is not an umpiring post but one about how I'm going to have a lot more free evenings going forward. Some of which will be occupied with a resumption of nerd nights here with fellow Trek geeks a couple times a month reliving the awesomeness that is Deep Space Nine, but also with new entries in our golden age of television. Such as:

• Resident Alien. While listening to a political podcast today, I heard mention of the renewal of the great Alan Tudyk show for a fourth season. All right! I thought. Quickly followed by, wait there was a third season already? How did I miss that? Turns out, yeah, the third season premiered earlier this year on a cable network, thus I completely missed it (my days as a cable subscriber have been over for a while). But knowing it exists, I will find it. If you've not seen it, the first two seasons are on Netflix. Check it out.
• Orphan Black: Echoes. The original Orphan Black series was awesome, with Tatiana Maslany expertly playing multiple roles as a woman discovers she's one of many clones and joins up with some of them to solve the mystery of their existence. This is a sequel centering on the daughter of one of the Tatiana Maslany clones, now an adult played by Krysten Ritter (who will always be Jessica Jones to me). I didn't know this even existed, but since the original was so great I will now look it up on whatever platform I can find it on. Apparently it's not a critical hit, but that isn't going to dissuade me.
• Quantum Leap. The first season of the sequel/reboot show on NBC was pretty good, but I was assuming it would be canceled, because networks tend to cancel their good genre shows before they find an audience. (Still upset about Defying Gravity? Yeah, kinda. That show would have been a big hit as a streaming show today.) But no, it got renewed and will be back in a month or so!
• Sunny (サニー). Nearing the end of its first season on Apple TV, this show appeals to me as a sci-fi show set in a near-future with "homebots" and as a show set in Japan with a fair amount of Japanese spoken. Also it stars Rashida Jones, who is always great, and a woman who goes by "Annie the Clumsy," whom I'd never heard of before but who is both funny and super-cute.
• Only Murders in the Building is back. Always fun.
• Leverage: Redemption. Again, how did I miss that this had another season? Well, it did, and I will be watching it. Moving platforms probably didn't help in terms of my missing it. It's getting a season three, too, which is cool even though it'll be on Amazon. &@%$in' Amazon.

I'll have to wait a while for Lower Decks season 5, Silo season 2, Severance season 2, The Diplomat season 2, Good Omens season 3, Outlander season 7B, and For All Mankind season 5, but those are on the way too. It's a good time to be a couch potato. Assuming you also get some exercise, of course.

Tagged TV, Umping, Posted on August 29, 2024 at 8:24PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Random dispatches

Some stray thoughts as I procrastinate doing important(ish) stuff this afternoon...

• I had umpiring to do last night, and as I arrived at the Woodland Park ballfields I was approached by one of my favorite players to ump over the years, a guy named Stephen. His team wasn't on my schedule, they were set to play on the adjacent field that my fellow umpire was handling, but he saw me deliver a gear bag to her and came up to talk to me. A few years back, Stephen was involved in (but by no means instigated) a confrontation between players on opposing teams in a game I was officiating, and after I'd sent combatants back to their corners and resumed the game, Stephen apologized to me and owned his (minor) part in what could have been an escalation of hostilities if I'd not intervened. That impressed me since he was basically the injured party and had cause to be upset. Since that game, whenever Stephen's team and I crossed paths it made my shifts a little more fun/less stressful since I knew at least one team would be well-behaved and good-humored. Anyway, last night Stephen said, "Hey, I'm glad you're here. This is my last game and I'm moving to New York next week. It's been a lot of fun playing in the league these past years and whenever we had you for our ump you made it that much better. The team loves you. Just wanted to you to know." After his game was over we chatted a little more about what he planned to do in NYC and he reiterated his praise. I say this not to toot my own horn—OK, it's partly to toot my own horn, I do enjoy my reputation, as one fellow staff member put it, as "the Ken Griffey Jr. of umpires" in the league—but to say to the Internet masses here that, if there's someone in your associative circle you appreciate for whatever reason, let them know. Odds are they aren't getting such feedback from their boss or co-workers or whomever else that might have authority, odds are they hear negative feedback far more frequently, and it can be more than helpful to know someone appreciates their effort in doing whatever it is they do. For my part, knowing Stephen and a few others appreciate how I run a game makes it a lot more tolerable when other people insult me or otherwise make an umping shift unpleasant. I'll miss Stephen! Thankfully I still have Megan, Yoon, Dae, Frankie, Robin, and everyone on The Leftovers (among others) occasionally peppering my shifts with good cheer. 
• My new car is already in the shop, though this was half-planned. I knew from the inspection I had done it needed a couple of things dealt with right away, and that was supposed to be all handled this afternoon. Unfortunately there was a parts snafu and the mechanics can't finish until tomorrow. So I'll be relying on Ye Olde Metro Transit for getting to tonight's Mariner game and back. Alas.
• Speaking of the Mariners, despite their current second-place standing behind the Houston Astros in the American League West and third behind Minnesota and Boston for the consolation-prize Wild Card position, I'm more bullish on their postseason possibility than at any point since maybe May, and they had a big lead then. All because they finally sent Scott Servais and Jarret DeHart packing. Since Dan Wilson took over last Friday, with Edgar Martinez at his side, the M's are 3-1 (against San Francisco and Tampa Bay) and have gained 1½ games on the Astros, and of those three wins I am utterly convinced that they would have lost at least two of them under the Servais regime because critical runs were scored by runners from third without benefit of a hit. Which had been a foreign concept under DeHart. Edgar made a point of telling the press that one of his goals was to emphasize situational hitting and another was to reduce strikeouts, and it paid off immediately. Even the San Francisco Giants' broadcast team noticed, as they remarked over the weekend that Seattle batters were changing their approach when they had two strikes on them, noting some guys choking up on the bat to shorten their swing and what appeared to be deliberate intent to foul off certain pitches. Shortstop Leo Rivas delivered a game-winning hit in such an at-bat on Friday. Sunday two runs scored on grounders that Julio Rodriguez and Randy Arozarena busted hard out of the box on to avoid double-plays. None of that would have happened before. Yesterday the M's beat Tampa Bay with home runs, more like the earlier regime preached, but they were "happenstance homers," not borne of swinging for the fences but of swinging for a line-drive. Josh Rojas and Luke Raley seem particularly better since the regime change; Wilson even had Rojas in the starting lineup against a lefty yesterday, something Servais never did, and what do you know, Josh was 2-for-3 against said lefty, a line single, a hard double off the wall, and lined hard just barely foul before striking out on a tough pitch. Plus he stole a base and scored the only non-homer-delivered run of the game. There have been bunts and bunt attempts in interesting situations by batters other than Luke Raley. Andres Muñoz was not called in too early from the bullpen in a close game. Surprisingly good reliever Collin "Principal" Snider was not yanked after getting in a spot of trouble but was allowed to get out of it himself. Dan is still batting Cal Raleigh third in the order, which I don't like, but it's only been four games and Victor Robles hasn't been available to lead off. We'll see if that changes soon.
• Shit, I've procrastinated too long. Gotta go.

Tagged Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Umping, Cars, Posted on August 27, 2024 at 4:44PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Tales from the ballfield

The workplace, more often than not these days

During my umpiring shift tonight, one of the teams playing was The Leftovers, one of my favorites to call games for (hi, Neal!). Unfortunately, they were on the adjacent field from me and I got stuck with other teams this time while fellow ump Ian got to do their game. Still, I had a fairly good group to work with on my field and things were mostly fine.

But I did have The Leftovers last week, and one of the fun things about them is that they record all their games and often do goofy things with the video. Last week's video didn't include any of the goofy stuff, but it did capture an argument between me and two players from the opposition team, the not-so-cleverly-named Blue Ballers, over a bang-bang call at home plate. (It may be useful to know that the Blue Baller pitcher had been getting on my nerves for a good while before this happened with snide remarks about ball/strike calls.) Usually when someone bitches at me about a call I can say, hey, it's not like we have video replay here. And that's true even when Neal and co. are recording, because I can't exactly ruin their video setup to check it. But, it does mean there's video to review after the fact. And in this case, I can definitively say that the call was...made. Was it right? Wrong? Even with video, I can't tell. Which is good, because it means the arguing players, who claimed (a) the call was made before the runner had reached home plate, and (b) that the runner never stepped on the plate, were both full of shit. Either way, I did a better job than C.B. Bucknor does on any given day, so stick it, Blue Ballers.

 

 

Nothing so dramatic tonight, just some embarrassment for me as I reverse-Denkingered a call at first base. I knew it right away, too, but I let it pass because the team it was against was leading by a ton of runs and I knew it wasn't going to matter. Except the other team started to come back. When they got within five I was nervous. Fortunately for me, their lead blew open again in the final inning and my botched call mattered not. Whew!

Tagged Umping, Softball, CB Bucknor, Don Denkinger, Posted on August 22, 2024 at 12:46AM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Head games

It's not been a good week for me in terms of The Black Hole. Nor has it been a terrible one. It was—and continues to be?—another of those stretches wherein I feel basically OK but I'm scatterbrained.

If I didn't have a long history of this as a manifestation of my clinical depression, I'd be worried about long COVID or something. But I do have that history, and, frankly, given the choice between a stretch of foggy brain and a severe Black Hole episode of despair, I'll take this in a heartbeat.

A friend of mine—whose birthday I forgot this week, apologies—has mentioned a couple of times over the years that she's observed my Black Hole symptoms are worse in the summertime. I don't know if that's true or not, but this has been a rather quick return for a foggy-head stretch, seems like I just got over one of those. Is it just brain chemistry? Added stress? Ennui? Too damn much sunlight? Who knows.

But here's a rundown of my last week or so:

• Forgot I had Mariner tickets for June 1st, which turned out to be a great game and it would have been fun to be there. I did realize my error in time to sell the tickets pregame on StubHub, so at least I got my money back.
• Forgot Nikki's birthday and have yet to rectify that. (Sorry, Nikki.) But she's on a road trip right now, so maybe it'll keep.
• Screwed up during an umpire shift in a circumstance that required more from me. There was a collision at home plate, completely unwarranted, but also I believe not premeditated, more one of those things that happens fast and reaction time was slow. And then my reaction time was slow. Way too slow. I handled everything in a manner that kept the peace and let us proceed reasonably well, but had I been sharper that night I would have been far more assertive and timely in laying down the law and offering better/more obvious defense of the injured party, who happened to be one of my favorite players in the league. Nobody's holding a grudge (that I know of) or giving me any sort of hard time about it, but I know I fucked up and that it was a disservice to one of my faves makes it all the worse, at least in my head.
• Was late to my own softball game this week because I had transposed the start times of games (6:30 and 7:45 became 6:45 and 7:30, which makes absolutely zero sense) and I missed the first inning.
• Screwed up yesterday's umpire shift by not remembering that different parks mean different start times because of things like lights and permits. I know this, it's basic information. Yet, knowing I was going not to Capitol Hill but to Wedgwood, I still timed things to arrive at 7pm. On my way down, at about 6:20, I got a call asking if anything was wrong since I wasn't where I was supposed to be at 6:00. Shit. Then to compound matters when I did arrive I went to the wrong field first (#3, not #2), got confused by the lack of people around when I expected two teams of annoyed softballers, and took an extra five or ten minutes to get things straight. Then I became aware that another group had the permit for that field as soon as we were scheduled to be done, so there was no wiggle room for going over time and I just had to rush things and basically those two teams got screwed out of half their time. I'm lucky that they were all understanding and not actually that annoyed. Again, had I been sharper, there was an easy solution involving moving to one of the unoccupied fields instead which would have allowed us to play later, but that didn't occur to me in time to do any good (we did play the second game on another field despite the fact that the bases there weren't pegged in and basically sucked).
• Today is my sister's birthday, and as my mind is functioning at the speed of someone trying to run a 100-yard dash under eight feet of water, I didn't realize that until I heard someone on a podcast say the date out loud. So I made a call as I was out on errands and added "buy belated b-day card" to my errand list.

Is this stretch of fogginess over? No, I can tell it's not. I still feel like it takes three times as long to think a thought than it should. But with any luck it'll pass soon. It's a problem.

I did watch the Mariners this afternoon, as they blew a big lead and decided to go to the ninth with reliever Ryne "Panic with" Stanek in for the save. Why did they do that? No one knows. It didn't go well. It felt like ol' Panic was similarly having trouble concentrating on what was in front of him as he walked the leadoff man, served up a base hit and a one-out game-tying triple, and then his doofus manager intentionally walked not just the next guy to set up a potential double-play, but the guy after that as well—a slumping (and slow) Salvador Pérez, who's seen his batting average drop 38 points the last couple of weeks—to load the bases, which even the announcers were a bit dumbfounded by. Result? A hot shot off the bat that only a superhuman effort by J.P. Crawford kept from being a hit but was still enough to score a run and end the game. But hey, those fans in Kansas City got their money's worth tonight, that would have been a heck of a game to be at to see your team give up seven runs before even coming to bat then claw their way back to a close score only to win it in exciting walk-off fashion. Enjoy our slow-witted, unthinking Seattle ways, Kansas City!

 

Tagged The Black Hole, Seattle Mariners, Umping, Posted on June 7, 2024 at 11:07PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Jazz it up a little

Sure, it's empty here, but just wait until late afternoon, when it will be filled with people lying around, spikeballers, dogs chasing frisbees, bikes, and lots of asshats playing soccer

Whenever I have an umpire shift, I file a report to the league afterward. Usually this is just a pro forma task, e.g. "No problems today, all is well," like one of Constable Odo's log entries. Sometimes it's more involved, like if someone got hurt or I had to eject somebody or there was a forfeit or something, but usually it's just "all good here," and I try to add in a little bit of color to keep it from being too dull.

Last night I was feeling a bit more creative, I guess, and put the earworm in my head of the Beatle song that had been playing in my car when I drove to the park to use in writing the report. Jazz it up some. Give the people in the office a laugh, or at least a smirk. Or maybe they're all Beatle-haters, I really don't know. Anyway, I think it came out pretty well, given that I "wrote" it in my head during the shift and on the way home while replaying the original a few times to get the cadence right. I reproduce it here for the edification of anyone who wonders what it's like to umpire at the Capitol Hill field which is usually filled with people when I show up, some of whom simply don't care about permits and reserved areas.

I give you The Ballad of Cap Hill Softball (apologies to John and Yoko).

 

THE BALLAD OF JOHN AND YOKO CAP HILL SOFTBALL

Arriving at the park at 6:40
Gear bin fully stocked thanks to Mitch
The weather is fine, people are strewn line to line
Clearing the field is going to be a bitch

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
I try to keep my tone light
But the rate this is going
It’s gonna be a long night.

The soccer guys are hostile as always
Occupying our center field
I tell ’em, “move back to play, your goal’s obstructing our way”
One throws our cones as if they’re weapons to wield

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
They always put up a fight
The rate this is going
It’s gonna be a long night.

We finally get our games underway
Twenty minutes behind our sched
A batter crushes a ball, as we are watching it fall
It nearly hits a lazing guy in the head

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
People just aren’t very bright
The rate this is going
It’s gonna be a long night.

Times like this I wish it was a rainy day
Fewer people causing havoc here
But when the catcher says “No jest,
Of all umps you’re the best”
It makes the troubles somehow less important, SWEET!

Had a call when there were two runners
Throw came in where I hadn’t planned
The infielder said, “hey she was out by a thread!”
I said, “the replay center says the call stands.”

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
Sometimes I don’t get it right
There’s just one of me out there
I don’t have Superman’s sight.

By the time the third game was ending
The good points well outweighed all the bad
Most of the players were great
They didn’t mind we ran late
All in all I think a fun time was had

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
I hope I don’t sound uptight
’Cause despite how it started
It was a pretty good night.

Despite how it started
It was a pretty good night!

Tagged Umping, The Beatles, Softball, Posted on May 21, 2024 at 10:45PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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First-world problems

My car is in the shop. Nothing horrible, really, at least I don't think so. I'll know more when the mechanic gives me an update tomorrow. Exhaust system issues. It's an old car, things happen.

Being without it for a few days isn't a big deal, but I did have an umpiring shift to cover this evening at Capitol Hill. Fortunately, Cap Hill is the only one of our parks to which I don't have to haul equipment to and from, it all stays on site, which makes getting there without the car less cumbersome. Ye olde metro buses can get me there and back in about an hour's time each way.

Theoretically.

I know from plenty of experience that relying on the bus can be a tenuous thing, so I made sure to leave early enough to accommodate delays. Particularly since no matter what, on a Sunday I have no practical alternative to what we refer to around here as "the crazy bus," i.e. the KC Metro E Line. Up in my neck of the woods it's generally not a big deal, but from the city limits on into downtown the route is often populated by a demographic cohort that is underprivileged and in various manners unhealthy. Thus, riding the E Line is unpredictable.

Still, things went smoothly on the way down and I got to the park with 20 minutes to spare. I used the time to chat up some of my favorite players that were in the game currently being played under the early-game umpire's watch and remark on the start of Major League spring training and generally shoot the breeze while defending my fellow umpire from some criticism. (I mean, yes, he did miss that call at first, but given the bases-loaded situation you got to cut him a little slack; he's only got one pair of eyes and they can't watch all three bases at the same time.) It's playoffs, people get testy.

That game ended and I relieved my fellow ump and took over, grateful that the lights at Cal Anderson park were working again and there were no obnoxious soccer players getting in our way on this cold evening. New teams took the field and I let my ego soak up the comments from both departing and arriving players—"dude, what the hell, why didn't we get you for our game?"; "hey good, Tim's here"; "you're so much better than the other umps"—and I was enjoying things. I made two bad calls, one on a ball/strike decision that was irrelevant as the next pitch was put in play, one more important on a hard grounder over the bag at third base that I called fair and that led to several runs. In the moment I didn't know if it was fair or foul, the angle from home plate on that kind of thing is pretty bad and there was no time to shift position, but it has to be called immediately anyway, so I pointed fair. No complaints, but I still wasn't sure, so after the inning I went to the third baseman, a guy I've seen a lot of doing these games, and asked him. He said it was foul. I believe him, he's not a troublemaker. Oh well. There were a few other bang-bang plays I know I did get right despite some pushback (playoffs, people get testy), so there.

The winner of that game was to play again immediately following in a semifinal match, but as we were nearing the start time for that one I wasn't seeing anyone new show up. Usually by the 5th or 6th inning the teams for the next game are at least partly there, warming up on the sidelines. We were running a bit late, but with no next team waiting I didn't rush things and let the game go the full 7 regulation frames as the Chop Zone Outlaws emerged victorious with a nice double-play turned in the home 7th to secure the win.

Still no opposing team and we were well past the permissible grace period to avoid a forfeit, so I called off the second game and packed up the gear, thinking I'd get home early and get to warm up. The Metro Transit app on my phone told me I could catch a bus in a short few minutes and be home in under an hour. Good, I needed dinner.

But this again involved a transfer to the crazy bus. So it was not to be.

In addition to the typical E Line happenings—a guy sat next to me and started rapping a tune about Jesus; two stops for wheelchair riders that required some delay; the expected onslaught of fragrance from unwashed bodies that gives me empathy for fictional Vulcans on fictional human starships—something happened just as we entered the on-ramp to the portion of Aurora Avenue that becomes limited-access. What happened I still don't know, I haven't been able to suss it out, but we stopped in the middle of the long ramp, stuck behind a disabled bus immediately ahead. Why we couldn't go around I'm not sure, but we were stuck and given where the bus was, the driver didn't want to just let us all out; there was a small shoulder, but next to that a big concrete divider with another lane of traffic and an elevation drop on the other side and opposite another divider beyond which was traffic going the other way. Pedestrians were not accommodated there.

So we waited for help. Some Metro mechanic or tow vehicle or something to clear the way.

But nothing happened. I got through the latest episode of the Fast Politics podcast in its entirety before the first passenger rebelled and broke the cover over the emergency release on the back door and let himself out. The driver resealed the door best he could, then went to talk to the driver of a third bus which was now stuck behind us. Before long other passengers pulled the same maneuver and reopened the door and just walked out into the street. Fortunately, this is on a Sunday night when traffic was relatively light.

Eventually Metro officials had blocked off a makeshift pedestrian route for us to exit the bus and walk back along the on ramp to what my California relatives would call the surface street, and we got to wait for the next E bus to arrive with two other complements of passengers. That took a while (during which time it started to snow), then we all crowded into the next bus, which made a bit of a detour to rejoin the highway later on, and I managed to get to my stop and exit the bus before the headache that had started building as soon as I got on the overcrowded coach had gotten truly unbearable. The few-blocks walk back to my place in the snowy sleet wasn't quite enough to clear my head but it helped.

The thing is, had I stayed to work that second game, because of Sunday schedules and such, I would have had an alternative to the crazy bus. There is a night-owl route out of Northgate that gets relatively close to my place, I could have taken the train to Northgate and caught that instead; barring other complications, I actually would have been home well before I actually made it here.

Alas. 

I've got another game to ump tomorrow night. This one I have to haul gear to, so my car better be ready by then. Otherwise I have to brave the crazy bus again, but with a 10-pound bag of softball gear. [Cue sad trombone noise.]

Tagged Umping, Cars, Seattle, Posted on February 25, 2024 at 11:57PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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Dazed and relatively alert

There's a scene in the TV show Ted Lasso (season 2, episode 1) in which star footballer Dani Rojas accidentally kills Earl, the team's greyhound mascot, when Earl is struck by Rojas' kicked soccer ball. It's a little bit counter-intuitive, as a soccer ball is relatively soft and full of air, but physics. You know, potential energy, velocity, mass × acceleration, that sort of thing.

Last night as I was preparing for an umpiring shift, I found myself empathizing a lot more fully with Earl. Some guys playing soccer on our field, dilly-dallying about getting out of our way so we could start our softball game, kicked a soccer ball—hard—and clocked me right in the temple. I went down, sort of blacked out (in the sense that my vision went dark but I was still conscious) for about, I don't know, 15 seconds, maybe, and then got up and made my displeasure known to the soccer jerks. One of my softball players was out to assist me straight away and he moved to go after the soccer guys, but I just shouted at them and they left without further incident. 

I didn't see it coming, of course, so I can't say if it was an accident or a deliberate attempt to hit me without understanding how hard the impact would be, but I am fairly sure there wasn't an intention to injure me. I've had enough conflict with soccer players who won't leave our fields that it makes things murky and I can't be sure of their hostility or lack thereof; could go either way.

Either way, it rattled my cage pretty good and it took a while for things to normalize. Don't ask me what happened in the first couple innings of our game, I couldn't tell you. I do know I didn't think to do some of the normal pregame stuff like clearing foul ground of obstructions (soccer goal) and checking the bases (one had a broken post the other day) until midway though our game. Things seemed fine by mid-game, but I woke up today with a splitting headache and basically lost my whole Wednesday to trying to sleep off the pain.

It's OK now. I still feel the sting of the impact on the side of my face, but the headache is gone and I don't feel at all dazed or impaired. But I'm glad I don't have another game to ump until next Tuesday.

Fucking soccer.

Tagged Umping, Posted on February 7, 2024 at 10:07PM   |   Permalink   |     |  

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