Hey,
I was reading this parenting magazine and came across this article of a
true story about an umpire. Thought you might enjoy, it got me thinking.
Donald Jenson was struck in the head by a thrown bat while umpiring a
Little League game in Terre Haute, Indiana. He continued to work the game,
but later that evening was placed in a hospital by a doctor. While being
kept overnight for observation, Jenson wrote this letter:
Dear Parent of a Little Leaguer:
I am an umpire. I don't do it for a living, but on Saturdays and
Sundays for fun.
I've played the game, coached it and watched it. But somehow,
nothing takes the place of umpiring. Maybe it's because I feel that deep
down I'm providing a fair chance for all kids to play the game without
disagreements and arguements.
With all the fun I've had, there is still something that bothers me
about my job...Some of you folks don't understand why I'm there. Some of
you think I'm there to exert authority over your son or daughter. For that
reason, you often yell at me when I make a mistake, or encourage your son
or daughter to say things that hurt my feelings.
How many of you really understand that I try to be perfect? I try
not to make a mistake. I don't want your child to feel that he got a bad
deal from an umpire.
Yet no matter haw hard I try, I can't be perfect. I counted the
number of calls I made in a six-inning game today. The total number of
decisions, whether on balls and strikes or safes and outs, was 146.
I tried my best to get them all right, but I'm sure I missed some.
When I figured out my percentage on paper, I could have missed eight calls
today and still got about 95% of the calls right.....In most occupations
that percentage would be considered excellent. If I were in school, that
grade would receive an "A" for sure.
But your demands are higher than that. Let me tell you about my game
today.
There was one real close call that ended the game....a runner for the
home team was trying to steal the plate on a passed ball. The catcher
chased the ball down and threw to the pitcher covering the plate. The
pitcher made the tag, and I called the runner out.
As I was getting my equipment to leave, I overheard one of the
parents comments: "It's too bad the kids have to lose because of a rotten
umpire. That was one of the lousiest calls I've ever seen."
Later at the concession stand, a couple of kids were telling their
>>friends, "Boy, the umpires were lousy today. They lost the game for us."
The purpose of Little League is to teach baseball skills to young
people. Obviously, a team that does not play well in a given game, yet is
given the opportunity to blame that loss on an umpire for one call or two,
is being given the chance to take all responsibility for the loss from its
shoulders.
A parent or adult leader who permits the younger player to blame his
or her failures on an umpire, regardless of the quality of that umpire, is
doing the worst kind of injustice to that youngster....Rather than learning
responsability, such an attitude is fostering an improper outlook toward
the ideals of the game itself. The irresponsibility is bound to carry over
to future years.
As I sit here writing this letter, I am no longer as upset as I was
this afternoon. I wanted to quit umpiring. But, fortunately, my wife
reminded me of another situation that occured last week.
I was behind the plate, umpiring for a pitcher who pantomimed his
displeasure at any call on a borderline pitch that was not in his favor.
One could sense that he wanted the crowd to realize that he was a fine,
talented player who was doing his best to get along, and that I was a
black-hearted villain who was working against him.
The kid continued in this vein for two innings....while at the same
time yelling at his own players who dared to make a mistake. For two
innings, the manager watched this. When the kid returned to the dugout to
bat in the top of the third, the manager called him aside.
In a loud enough voice that I was able to overhear, the lecture went
like this: "Listen son, it's time you made a decision. You can be an
umpire, or an actor, or a pitcher. But you can only be one at a time when
your playing for me. Right now it is your job to pitch, and your basically
doing a lousy job. Leave the acting to the actors, the umpiring to the
umpires, or you won't do any pitching here. Now what is it going to be?"
Needless to say, the kid chose the pitching route and went on to win
the game. When the game was over the kid followed me to the car. Fighting
his hardest to keep back the tears, he apologized for his actions and
thanked me for umpiring his game. He said he had learned a lesson that he
would never forget.
I can't help but wonder....how many fine young men are missing their
chance to develop into outstanding ballplayers because their parents
encourage them to spend time umpiring, rather than working harder to play
the game as it should be played.
The following morning, Donald Jensen died of a brain concussion.
