I Don't Want to Play This Game Anymore

As many of you know, I spend my summer evenings clad with mask, protective gear, and tens of faithful fans cheering. No, I don't work security for Major League Soccer, I am a little league umpire.

This is my third year umpiring, and although it is sometimes exhausting, I love it. It's a chance to be outside, participate in the game I love so much, and be active in the community. I umpire 4-5 nights a week. I have become friends with many of the parents in the community; they even know me by name. Many games come and go. People cheer, some even jeer. Every once in a while, I umpire a game that is truly unique. Case in point, last night's game.

It was a "kid pitch" game, so the players are 9 and 10 years old. They benefit from a greatly extended strike zone (nose to toes, 8 inches off the plate), and usually play pretty sound baseball. Last night's game featured 7 kids hit by the pitcher--five of which fell down and cried at the plate, the catcher getting hit by a bat and falling to the ground, and one kid face planting into the dirt as he rounded second base. It was a circus, and I was the ringleader. One kid flopped like a fish out of water on home plate after getting hit. Another was certain he needed x-rays. Another was ready to trade in his glove and never look back. I had some reservations about letting the game continue due to the safety of the players. Nonetheless, the game lasted only 4 innings, ending due to a mercy rule, 17-4.

I told Erica that it's funny to watch these kids sometimes. They have all the coolest gear, wear eye paint, give intimidating looks to one another, and put up a tough guy front, but when something bad happens, I, like many others, am reminded that they are indeed kids. They cry, throw tantrums, and want to quit. All part of growing up I guess. Isn't that what baseball is all about, anyway?