Home

About Homedaddy

Archives

Subscribe

Tell A Newspaper

Contact

Music

Publisher's Area

When They Don't Win It's a Shame

I recently moonlighted once again as an umpire for Little Leagueà Baseball, and although it was my first such outing in well over a year, I figured that being a Homedaddy would be pretty good mental conditioning. Already entrenched in the authoritarian mindset, I strode onto the field wearing my "Throw-that-sippy-cup-one-more-time-and-I'll-take-it-away" face. True, these kids were ten-to-twelve-year-olds, but I knew my attitude would take them back to a time of hard lessons and frontier justice.

Kids at this age are far more receptive to law and order than your stock toddler, who responds to authority about as well as Dennis Rodman. These kids were remarkably well-behaved compared to what I am used to, and after the first inning I was really starting to enjoy saying "Stee-rike" without feeling compelled to follow up with "Because I said so" by way of explanation.

Umpiring and parenting have much in common. I noticed that as long as I wasn't needed, people thought I was doing a great job. For the first few innings, all the strikes were being thrown right down the middle, all baserunners were thrown out by at least two steps, all fly balls were caught cleanly, and I had fans aplenty. "Good call, Blue!" bellowed one parent, after I raised my fist in the air to signal a swing-and-miss third strike.

I have had the same experience as a parent. When Emma is in a particularly sweet mood, entertaining herself and those around her in a checkout line, for example, I have had perfect strangers offer compliments on my relaxed, yet effective parenting style. I smile and nod my thanks, wondering what this person would have thought of the red-faced, milk-throwing tantrum that delayed the trip to the market by two hours.

The reverse also holds true, which is to say that when the game starts to get out of hand, the umpire (or parent, as the case may be) is likely to catch the blame. They love you when things are clear-cut, but when it is time to call a close one, you know for a fact that half of the people present are going to think you are stupid, blind, corrupt, and drunk with power, if not otherwise.

It's the same story at home. Emma starts to clamor for dessert before finishing dinner. I say, "Three more bites of broccoli and then you can have some dessert." She then eats two bites of broccoli, and after pushing the third one around the plate for a minute, announces "All done!" It all comes down to a judgement call. Will she reach base safely and get her treat, or will she be called out at the plate?

As an umpire, or as a Homedaddy, one must remember that it isn't a popularity contest; you have to call Íem like you see Íem. At game's end I got many dirty looks from the losers, but at least I didn't have to take them all home and make them eat their vegetables.

send this column to a friend!
have a comment about this column?

© Todd Pinsky 1998-2002. All rights reserved.