One more favorite sports memory

The umpire as teacher (Portland, Indiana, June 1965). As sports editor of the Portland Commercial-Review, I was covering a summer league game between the Portland High School Panthers and their hated rivals, the Mississinewa High Indians. The game of baseball, by its very nature (one team always seated on the bench), is conducive to heckling from the dugout, and with each passing inning the level of verbal abuse between the two teams inevitably escalated. Around the fifth inning, when a player wearing glasses came to bat, it seemed only natural for someone on the rival bench to shout, “Hey, four eyes!” But at this point, the home plate umpire stopped the game, walked over to the offending bench, and commenced a lecture.

“That boy can’t help the condition of his eyes any more than you can help the color of your hair or your skin,” the ump declared. “You boys can say whatever you like about each other. But if I hear anyone pick on someone because of a condition that’s not his fault, I’ll throw you out of the game.”

How much do you suppose that umpire was paid to call balls and strikes that day? I would guess perhaps $10, plus (maybe) gas money for transportation from a neutral town. His lesson — which, as you see, sticks in my mind nearly half a century later — was priceless. As a journalist and critic, I’ve tried to follow his guideline ever since: Criticism on the basis of someone’s age, gender, race, nationality, family, physical appearance — anything beyond the subject’s control — is simply out of bounds.

Some of us do our jobs; others, like that umpire, deliver added value.