[KentuckyBlue]

After a pretty mild season AA-wise I might have had my guard down recently when I substituted in a friend’s league and encountered a team with a wise-mouthed, smart-@ss pitcher and catcher. (Adult independent men’s slow pitch, NSA, between C and D skill level).

Catcher was a particular puzzle. He told me under his breath, “I talk a lot, don’t get mad.” Then he proceeded to criticize out loud EVERY ball and strike. He never made me lose it but I was fuming inside.

Especially when combined with the pitcher, whose technique was to stretch his arms and raise his eyes to heaven after EVERY call, in obvious anguish over the fates that had saddled him with such an incompetent.

My principles are that a player can express disagreement with my calls one time without penalty – after all, we are all Americans and we didn’t lose the right to have and express opinions just because we stepped on a playing field. Express the opinion twice and I’ll warn you. Express it three times, or say anything personal about me, my mother or the other players and you’re immediately gone.

NSA has a good rule that if any player except pitcher, catcher or batter leaves the field position to argue balls and strikes, he or she earns an immediate no-warning ejection; but that rule doesn’t help when it’s the pitcher and catcher giving the trouble. Couldn’t go to the manager either, because it’s one of those collective everybody-plays teams that doesn’t really have one.

My substitute status kept me from immediately pulling the string here. (Though I only eject an average of one person a year -- a reflection of the very low-level recreation leagues I work.)

So all things considered, I decided that, however irritating the catcher’s constant comments got, I would honor my principles and not toss him unless and until he said something personal. In fact, I never responded to his indirect baiting at all except to tell an opposing batter who commented that I must be having a rough night, “Naah, got a gnat buzzing in my ear but that’s all.” Well wait, there was one other reaction. I did tell the catcher privately and calmly that “There seems to be two opinions on every pitch back here, yours and mine; how you tell the difference is, mine is the one that matters.” But those were my only reactions, I’m proud of that. (I’ve had other nights that haven’t seen me so calm.)

He never stopped his tirade about my calls, he never said anything personal, I never lost my cool, the pitcher never let up his impression of bleeding Jesus on the cross, and the only ongoing consequence was that I left puzzling over the mindset of an AA that would choose that way to enjoy an evening of softball. What poisonous personalities -- sociopathic ten-year-olds in the bodies of mid-40s adults who are presumably never as immature in any other phase of their lives.

The pitcher did make what could be construed as a personal comment griping to his teammates within my earshot as he was leaving, “Hope he calls the bases next time because he sure can’t call the plate.” (I’ve only been umpiring slow-pitch 12 years now.) But the game was over by then, and I didn’t feel like I had the authority to eject him from a game already over.

I was proud of the way I handled myself at the time but not proud of the way it’s stayed in my head since then. Gotta get over it. I guess every night you work moves you one step closer toward continuing with the game or quitting. This was one of those step-backward nights, I guess. Tonight will be different.