Quote:
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Originally Posted by Chess Ref
I'm plate the other night. Mens SP. We're going into the top of 3 and I glance at my partner who is eating a hotdog.  I call time and let him finish his dog. Apparently one of the kids ran over to the snack shack and got him one. He missed lunch and needed something to tide him over.... |
Bear in mind that the story I'm about to tell is about an umpire whom I hold in high regards. She's professional, knowledgeable, and is normally great for the job. However, there was this one night...
My partner ran a little late (she's an EMT, so I completely understood). Arriving 5 minutes after gametime, to me, is relatively understandable, and her profession is a noble one. I wouldn't hold it against her, especially considering her solid reputation as an umpire. Needless to say, I was behind the plate for the first game, and she took the bases when she arrived.
After the first game was over, she said, "Dave, I'm diabetic, and I need to eat something fast." I told her it was no problem, so she ran to the snack shack and said, "whatcha got that's quick?"
"Hot dog?"
"Perfect!"
"Chili?"
"Sure, why not?"
Second game starts, and I've rotated to the bases. As the third inning was about to start, she gets my attention from across the field...
"Dave... Dave... You've got 3rd."
I gave her a puzzled look.
"You've got third. Hot dog. Hot dog."
I couldn't help but laugh, nod my head and say, "I've got third."