Brand new with tags, size 36 waist and unfinished bottoms. I paid $69 for these and Davis won't let me exchange them because they were purchased more than 30 days ago.
Open to offers or trades of comparable value.
Please indulge me....
It happened yesterday. I knew it as soon as he stepped out of his vehicle wearing his Walmart greys and grease smeared umpire shirt, No sooner were his feet on the ground and I said hello then the war stories of the old days started.
I made the mistake of joking that I presumed we would be wearing blue since he was already wearing his newly approved, but widely stained blue NJSIAA umpire shirt. "Of course!" he replied. "We've been called blue forever, why wouldn't we?" Alrighty then.....
That was the high water mark of the day.
Our pregame consists of him telling me that we are going to do things the old way. He had the plate, so I figure that I should acquiesce. He's going to take all fly balls.
"Even when I am in the middle?"
"Why wouldn't I?" he replies. Perhaps because I am 80-100 feet closer?
"How about if I take trouble balls?" I ask.
"Well I guess that would be OK."
He proceeds to go on about how his partners have not been great, that we need to be a team, and that he will keep the game moving along because his strike zone is generous. The plate meeting was a Shakespearean quality soliloquy about everything except the menu of the hot dog place down the road. And so it continued. Now to the game.......
The first pitch of the game was called before it crossed home plate and I knew this guy was so full of crap that the game was going to have the potential of heading south in about three batters. Quite frankly, I am really surprised at how quietly the game went despite his antics, It is a testament to how disciplined the teams were and how the coaches had resigned themselves to my partners unique (dis)abilities as an umpire.
The strike zone. Two times F2 was set up with the point of the plate centered on his body with 2 strikes on the batter. Two times F2's glove was in the middle of his body, F1 hit his spot, the glove never moved and F2 fired the ball to F5 on the backwards K. Except two times those beautiful pitches were balls. Remember I mentioned trouble balls in the vee? F8 on a full run nabs a knee high sinking line drive while I am in B. I start to come up with "Catch" when I hear from behind me "Catch"; F8 on a sprint to the fence behind him reaches up over his left shoulder without breaking stride and guess what happened? That's right boys and girls, a call of "Catch" emanates from behind me. F9 and F8 converging on a sinking line drive...... well you get the idea. No one on, ball is hit to F8's right and is sinking quickly. I button hook and watch BR touch 1B. As he hits the bag I look to pick up the ball and see F8 fumbling on the ground momentarily and I then hear "Catch!" and the entire OT bench erupts because they believed it was a trap. Considering that F8 seemed to be scrambling for the ball, I kind of believe OT likely had a good case, but since I did not follow the ball to the catch, I had no additional information to offer. Did I mention the strike zone? Or perhaps I should call it the strike stamp. Or, depending on the pitch, strike ZIP code? Pitchers, batters, coaches, and i were all regaled with a continuously evolving interpretation of balls and strikes. Not one time during the entire game was the ball put back in play after a foul ball. Every time the plate was cleaned off though, the ball was put in play even though time was never called. Not one time during the entire game was a ball thrown to the pitcher or handed to F2 on a foul ball that stayed within the confines of the field. In the 3rd inning he took a ball out of his black ball bag walked in front of HP, licked his hand, grabbed some dirt and rubbed up the ball before "throwing" it to F1 on a foul ball that left the yard. I chose not to engage him in a post game as I knew it would simply be time that I would never get back. A college scout I have known for years saw me at my car after my partner left and we spoke for quite some time. After a while he mentioned a few of the things I have captured above. I looked at him and just smiled. He smiled back and said, "'Nuff said."
I am awaiting a call back from our assignor to find out how this guy not only was assigned a varsity level game, but how I ended up on the bases while this stooge did everything umpires should not while behind the plate.
Thank you for indulging me. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.