For most of my adult life, Saturdays in the spring and an occasional weeknight game or two have been spent at the same Little League baseball field I played on when I was a kid. I have coached, managed, been on the league’s board, but I had the most fun doing what I love – calling balls and strikes behind home plate.
One of the benefits of being a fixture behind the dish for 46 years was that you got to know a lot of families that came through this community. In a lot of cases, I got to ump games featuring kids and grandkids of people I played with. Regardless of the personalities involved, when I threw the ball to the pitcher and said, “Play ball,” all that went out the window. Whatever priors I had going into the game, I zoned in and reacted to what was taking place in front of me, pitch by pitch.
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