|
The first speech I ever gave at the Texas State Umpires Meeting was titled: "How to Call a Perfect Game, or, Why I Got Scratched in San Benito."
I went back to San Benito for playoff games in 1995 and 2003, the two years they made the playoffs (out of the last 30).
Well, I was back for a special game today/night. It was the First Annual Alumni Game. Yes, the first. Big crowd, television (for the whole game, two cameras, play by play FROM THE PRESSBOX ANNOUNCER - I hate that).
The coaches agreed that only Childress could work such a momentous event, so they called our Assignor and said: "Bert, send us Carl." Said Bert, "OK." I never liked Bert anyway.
Tonight marked a first for me, and I'll talk about that later. In the meantime....
We often make two-base awards when an infielder's first play is a throw that goes dead. Two from the time of the pitch.
We often make two-base awards when an outfielder's throw goes dead. Two from the time of the throw.
But we aren't so familiar with awards that are given after everybody has made a base.
R2, B1 hits deep to short. F6 gloves the ball on the outfield grass, looks at third to see if he has a play on R2 (no play), then turns back to first to see that B1 has aggressively rounded the bag. The shortstop's throw to first sticks in the fence.
First play by an infielder goes dead, but.... There were two runners (R2, B1); each made a base on the batted ball, so two bases from the time of the throw.
"Put him on third," I indicated to the base umpire. (Oh, I had the plate; I always have the plate.) The coach of the alumni comes out to talk. Says he, "Carl, that don't look right to me. Ain't he supposed to stop at second?"
"Joey, it's a long story but...."
Says Joey: "Ok. Put him on third."
But tonight was also the first time I ever voluntarily kept my indicator in my pocket. That happened because I was wearing gloves and I couldn't figue out how to turn the wheels.
I neglected to mention a small detail: At 6:00, an hour into the game, according to my wife keeping close watch via Weatherbug, the temperature was 41, wind out of the north steady at 25 mph, wind chill in the low 30s, light but steady rain throughout the game. The ball boy, a varsity player on the IR, said we went through two boxes of baseballs. He was so good, I told him I wanted to adopt him. He said: "I wish you would. My dad beats me." (His dead is the head coach.)
We went 8 innings and finally quit at 8:30, tied 2-2, because the alumni claimed they were out of pitchers. I think they just wimped out.
After a few posts, no doubt this thread will look like a case of "the first liar doesn't have a chance." Still....
|