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Show Foul Lines 'Give me softball, or give me a check' By TOM HARALDSEN Years ago, a gentleman named George Plimpton made a healthy heal-thy little living by trying just about anything once. He quarter-backed quarter-backed the Detroit Lions for a series of downs, tried parachuting, parachut-ing, endeavored to do a number of different things involving occupations that most of us only dream of participating in. I'm not quite that adventurous, but a few months ago, I decided it might be fun to try some different things. In the months ahead, you'll probably read about those efforts when the Clipper Sports Challenge begins next school year. Last Wednesday afternoon, however, I got the taste of something some-thing new a little early. In a desperation move, the call went out from Woods Cross High for a base umpire for a JV baseball game between the Wildcats and Jordan High. Jed Nielsen, well-known local sports enthusiast and part time umpire, gave me the call. Now having umpired softball for seven years, I obviously knew the rules of baseball. But hardball is clearly a different game, and though I accepted the offer (I knew I could use the $24), I was in trouble from the beginning. As soon as the first pitch was delivered "overhand," the fun began. In the top of the first, Jordan had a man reach on a clean single to center. He later moved to third on a walk and stolen base. But on an attempted pick off at third, the runner's foot came off the bag, and I proclaimed him out as I ran towards the base. Of course, his hand was squarely on the bag, which made me look like-George Plimpton, for instance. After somehow surviving the change in calls (yes, I reversed my call, just like Gary Hart), the game really progressed quite smoothly. There was one close call at first that could have gone either way, but even then I felt confident in the "verdict" I had rendered. By the fifth inning, I was counting the minutes. The afternoon sun was getting very warm, my concentration level was not as sharp as in the beginning, and I felt like certain fans were starting to recognize the base umpire as "that Clipper guy." Jordan loaded the bases, and with one out and two strikes on the batter, a pitch went into the dirt and the man in the box took a half-swing. The Woods Cross shortstop asked me, "did he go?" And I realized that I didn't know. I'd been so worried about other things going on that I hadn't watched the swing in case there had been an appeal. As the sixth inning rolled around, another team began showing show-ing up in the seats. From my vantage point, I couldn't be sure who it was, but the red and white uniforms made me think the Bountiful High JV's were coming. "Great," I thought to myself. "Just what I need, word of this to spread to another school." Alas, all the fears and trauma ended shortly after 5:30 p.m., when the last Wildcat grounded out to end the game. Jordan won 5-3, the game was played very cleanly, and even my friend Glen Orme, the Wildcat coach, still spoke to me afterwards. From all this I learned a number of things. First, officiating is never easy. I've done football, basketball, softball, and now baseball. Each sport takes certain skills and knowledge of certain cer-tain rules. Baseball is more intense to umpire than softball. Second, having been both an umpire, and a fan who likes to yell at one, I prefer to be on the field. It's harder to ignore bad calls when sitting in the stands than to ignore fans making bad calls from the stands. Third, baseball umpires have gained a new-found respect .. from me. I won't argue any more calls, at least not until the Trappers begin play in June. I love to yell at the umps at Derks. And fourth, I will stick to softball. I'm retiring from hardball undefeated, thankful for the the opportunity, as the money bought lunches and gas. But I'm better off sitting in the seats with a notepad and camera. I'm beginning to think, however, that turnabout is fair play. I wonder if Glen or Jed would like to cover a story this week... |