I have to admit--a fan disconcerted me the other night. He didn't like a call at 1B. A$$hole is in the bleachers about 5-10 feet away from my A slot. Gave me an earful--that went on for next 5-6 plays. As I move out to "C," I see him standing up, giving me the middle digit and pointing at me.

I considered some options: a) scratching my temple with my own finger; b) adjusting my privates; c) showing him my (svelte) derriere as I bent over to pick up an unseen rock.

I ignored the guy; he kept up with the one-gun salute.

This was a LL game (girls, no less) and I thought about running the guy out, suspending the game until the guy left. No cops, no security, but Park Rangers on call. Close game, extra innings, getting dark, District Final.

I sucked it up.

Okay, gang. Did I wuss out or do the right thing?

Ace

Now, for something completely different ...
 

Big state LL game; two excellent teams; one of the best tussles at this level I have ever seen, much less umped.

One team is down by 2, runners on 2 and 3. A big farm boy gets up to the plate and runs the count to 3-1. The next pitch is right down Broadway, a little above the belt. Country takes it. This has been a strike for me all night, so I ring it up.

Now, the 1B-side fans are from his team. In an odd config, the field allows for a set of bleachers between 1B dugout and the dish. These NAPA-hat wearing mouth-breathers are right up my a$$.

The give me a rash of sh&t on the strike call. And I can hear it all, plainly.

On the next pitch, Country whacks a blue darter to the fence, scoring both runners. The following batter K-ed to end the frame.

After the inning, I took off my mask and strolled up the first-base line, making a slight detour to get near the fans. I gave them my Class A scowl. I swear, I made 40-50 Barbara Mandrell fans (with about 80 total teeth) cower. Then I suddenly winked, smiled and said, "You guys still want that cheap walk?"

The laugh I got was so big, the team stopped warming up on the infield, and the site director came over to make sure everyone was OK.

Ace in CT

7th Inning,tie game, home team at bat, finally scores the go ahead run, game called----visitors fan stands up screaming "thats not 3 outs yet,gotta finish the inning, Blue!"

Ace..
 

Ace,
You know you did the right thing.......in your case, when it was outside the field, you handled it the best way possible......

Any reaction from you would have just made it worse.... but I expect you knew that since you didnt opt for any of your other choices....

Now coming from me thats saying something as there was a time very early in my career that I had a set of rabbit ears that would have made Bugs Bunny proud.....

This year I had a HS varsity game with a very elderly Grandfather type sitting in the first row of the bleachers at a field much like you decribed.....every pitch called , he had a comment......thats high, no way, its in the dirt, etc.....

Initially I noticed that he was just doing it when the home team was at bat...but since both teams were wearing white uniforms, it became clear he didnt know which team was batting.....of course the big cataract sunglasses might have had something to do with his "vision problems".......

Finally one of the moms had to tell him he was arguing pitches his own grandson was throwing.....

he was a bit more quiet after that...

Stan

LL junior game, catcher's trying to do his job by trying to help his pitcher, pulling in the many pitches that are way out, way in, way high. After a couple innings of this pitching travesty, the ever groaning parent lights up with "when are we going to get that strike call? I mean our boy is bringing them all right back in". I mention to the catcher he might get that strike call when he doesn't have to bring it back in. Ended up calling time so the catcher could stop laughing.

What age group was this? Kids calling the pitches and the coach didn't know what was going on? That's rich.

Nope, you didn't wuss out. Ignore fans and if they get out of control either that team's coach or tournament director will have to take care of them. If you acknowledge that one idiot fan who thinks we're out there to be subjected to endless comments and abuse, there will be five more that see what happened and will start in on you in addition to the original moron. Almost like a light goes on and they say "Ah-ha! He CAN hear us!"

Throw the putz a kiss. It drives them crazy.

Bob

One out bases loaded, Batter hits and infield fly. Both me and partner make the call, second baseman drops the ball, runners take off. when the dust is clear, two runs are in and the are runners at third and second. Well we all know that the runner at second is the batter. I tell the coach infield fly the batter is out. Coach is okay with it, but the runner won't leave base. Coach ask for time and goes to get little Johnnie Cries-alot, as he is big Johnnie rushes onto the field from somewhere in the stands (with a beer in hand) yelling at me for calling Jr. out on a dropped ball. Before he can get there and before I can say anything, two other dads tackle him in the dirt and drag him kicking and screaming from the field. The coaches and kids just stood there pale faced with their mouths wide open. Everybody, and I mean everybody associated with the team could not apologize to me enough. I felt bad for little Johnnie, he could have been a good player, but I never saw him play again as no team wanted that much parental baggage.

Bugg

That is just plain strange! Drinking beer at a Little League game, how bizarre.

I've seen it (sometimes wine), cleverly disguised in some sort of Coleman cooler along with the hor' dourves parents might have organized. Well, maybe not so cleverly, if I could figure it out.

Talk about a wine and cheese crowd.

I'd imagine LL has a policy on no drinking at games. I'll leave that one up to the TD unless the guy is spilling it on me.

i remember back in my LL playing days, id see other team's coaches and dads hanging out down the line drinking out of red plastic cups sometimes. the 12 year old me always wondered why they were drinking out of red plastic party cups at a baseball field, as opposed to bottled water or gatorade.

You led a sheltered life, my boy.

Bob

so did the rest of the league. 12 year olds in my area arent big drinkers. maybe now, but not when i was 12.

Bottled water and gatorade were a long time from being invented when I was 12. There was no such thing as an aluminum bat, nobody had batting gloves, and there were no players with equipment bags and very few had their own wood bats. Everybody had a glove.