Always trust first impressions | News, Sports, Jobs

In the 1970s, when I first attended the Chautauqua County Baseball Umpires Association’s end-of-season banquet, the acceptance speech of the top award winner, given that night in Jamestown, was interrupted by an obviously drunk umpire holding an axe. I was stunned when he rudely interrupted me. His loud, profane, and self-centered rants focused on the challenges of the game. In his mind, he felt slighted when Plum’s referee did not go his way and unjustly went to this other unjust referee.

It was unpleasant and unfair and ruined the rest of the night for all the judges and the shocked female guests.

The recipient was surprisingly kind to the obnoxious drunk. He immediately stopped speaking and stepped into the audience to speak. They quietly and privately discussed the blatantly misdirected complaint.

I was impressed by the gesture and added to my already considerable admiration for the veteran referee.

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Unbeknownst to me until that night, my feelings towards his adversary had turned in the opposite direction. I swore I would never judge this thoroughly sociopathic bastard.

For the next 40 years, I kept that promise, occasionally turning down opportunities to play games with him.

Only our board assignments knew about my dislike and definitely respected it.

Unfortunately, that streak stopped with a playoff game at the end of the pre-pandemic season. We were paired by a committee, and had I turned down the assignment, I would have been unable to do any additional postseason work that year. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Game day came and I was dreading driving to the field. I was assigned to handle the base and my partner held the plate.

The weekday playoff game starts at 5 p.m., but I arrived 45 minutes early, 15 minutes earlier than recommended.

I watched both teams practice infield while waiting for my partner.

I waited and waited and eventually, against protocol, approached the field alone, fulfilled my various pre-game responsibilities, and signed my home team voucher to ensure payment.

With less than 10 minutes left until game time, my partner’s car pulled into the parking lot. He was over 20 minutes late, but still had to don his equipment to work behind the plate.

As I crossed the out-of-play line and safely deposited my keys and bottle of water, my partner dropped his mask and engaged the dozen or so teenage players sitting in the first base dugout.

I couldn’t hear what he said to them, but I heard them gasp in unison. Is this an educated guess on my part? A joke of a different color. Very inappropriate.

After discussing the basic rules with the head coach at home base, game time was quickly approaching.

All that remained was the referee meeting, which was very important because we had never worked together before.

I started reminding him what system we use and to feel free to ask for help when needed.

I don’t think he heard anything I said. Instead, he started badmouthing his previous gaming partner for dismissing two calls. The man he was disparaging with his locker room language was a long-time and well-respected executive on our company’s board of directors. Obviously, this selfish clown hasn’t changed over the years.

When he finally finished his accusation, I was able to provide a short nugget of useful information. When I was near the shortstop with a man on base (known to umpires as the C position), I made sure to help the runner on second base by making sure he touched third base as he headed home. . Since the umpire’s primary responsibility is home plate, it is nearly impossible to make this decision with certainty.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that my voice wasn’t being heard. not at all.

In the first inning, with two outs and a double, he was carried to the infield to the C position. The next batter hit a single to center field, sending the runner home from second base. He didn’t come close to touching third base, instead watching as his coach sent him home.

The throw was interrupted, so I moved to second base and called out to the batter who was trying to extend the single. When the inning was over, I started back to my usual spot along the right field line.

At that time, the head coach of the defense stopped his team from leaving the field. He appealed to the runner who missed third base and could have taken the score off the scoreboard.

My partner immediately and forcefully denied the accusation, professing that he clearly saw the runner stepping on third base.

When the coach asked my partner to check in with me on the phone, he was having a mild meltdown. He yelled that his judgment was being questioned and threatened to have the coach ejected if this continued. He incorrectly stated that he had already handed down the sentence and the coach was not allowed to appeal a second time.

It was clearly out of the question to come forward now and cancel out his partner. To say I was annoyed was an understatement.

Thankfully, the angry team quickly turned around and won a comfortable victory, with the game ending in the middle of the fifth inning due to the 10-point rule.

Feeling angry, frustrated, and helpless, I drove home and immediately sought guidance from several executives on my board. What could I have done in that embarrassing and highly inappropriate situation?

They told me my options were limited to, you guessed it, never to work with him again, and to always trust my first impressions.

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Bill Hammond is the former sports editor of the Evening Observer