You may know me from the days when I was the “Doing It” and “By the Rules” columnist for Referee magazine. Perhaps you read some of my stuff at Officiating.com: I’m both the editor and a contributing writer. You may even know me from the Gerry Davis newsletter, Sports Talk. Certainly you’re familiar with my unique volume called Baseball Rules Differences or the BRD. Inside, you’ll find instruction and analysis devoted to amateur umpiring. You’ll also find anecdotes and war stories dedicated to the proposition that learning can be fun. The book’s subtitle reveals much about the content. My wife, who reads all my stuff, suggested there was a theme to this book. “Papa, I think ....” You’ll likely recognize we stole from the Sergio Leone film, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. We’ve reversed the categories because most the points I need to make deal with umpire mistakes. Some are egregious (the ugly), and some are easily preventable (the bad). You’ll find me in both groups. Along the way, I tip my hat to umpires whose work was just terrific (the good). I also lurk here from time to time. I know this: Even if you don’t agree with my suggestions or techniques, you’ll be a better umpire by the time you’ve finished reading these essays. Here's a sample of what you'll find: In 1994, the NCAA decreed that the batter had to keep one foot in the box. The exceptions were many, but all those words boiled down to this: The batter must remain after a called strike or ball unless the pitch forced him from the box. Violating the rule resulted in a called strike. In 1995, the NFHS followed suit. A great rule: But nobody wanted to live by it, not players, not coaches, not fans – not umpires. In my final NCAA game, May 1995, I heard a familiar refrain: “Hell, Carl, you’re the only umpire I know who enforces that damn rule!” Now, both organizations have gutted the statute by adding that it’s a penalty strike only “if the batter delays the game.” You bet he’s delaying the game. But the point of the amendment was to keep umpires from enforcing the rule without admitting the rules committees had miscalculated the storm of disapproval. I’m not kidding. If you’re a veteran, you know I’m right. If you’re a beginner, take my word for it. Some umpires have argued I waste more time enforcing the rule than I save when the batters obey. I had thought it was a fair comment – until Wednesday, 8 June, 2011, when I collected absolute proof they were wrong. I worked a 14u tournament game where the organizers told me specifically the “one-foot-in-the-box” rule did not apply in that League. Time limit: 1:40. The game ended after the top of the THIRD, the home team winning 2-0. There were no unusual delays and only two pitching changes. You’ll never convince me I don’t save time when I keep the kids from wandering around, taking practice swings, adjusting their batting gloves, yakking with their coaches. Play: Los Fresnos (with a buncha wins) plays Brownsville Pace (with justafew). R1, R2, B1 triples. I watch the two runners score and notice that the Los Fesnos dugout has emptied. Everybody is outside, even the scorekeeper. They are high-fiving, low-fiving, knuckle-bumping, butt-slapping with the two runners who scored. “Time!” say I. Now, you know what I did next, you betcha. Down I went to the third-base coaching box. I talk a moment, and then Coach Rene Morales says: “__________________________.” Fill in the blank. Hint: The answer lies in rearranging these words: Carl, damn, enforces, ever, Hell, only, rule, that, the, umpire, who, you’re After I returned to my spot behind the plate, the Pace catcher, Eric Casas said: “Hey, Carl, ball’s still in play, right?” I expect he’ll make a good coach.
