We’re off today, after a couple of long days on the field learning the duties of the plate umpire in the 2-man system.[1] Harry Wendelstedt cautioned us to study over the weekend, but he also related the story of his son Hunter at college: When Harry would call, Hunter’s roommates would often say that Hunter was at the library. It took a couple of years for Harry to find out that The Library was the local bar.
I did not go to The Library last night, nor did I even go with a big group to the pub across the street to watch the Steelers game.[2] Rather, I fell asleep around 8:30, woke up in time to see the last six minutes of the game, and fell asleep again for the night. I guess doing 100 or more squats a day for two days straight can wear out an old fart like me. Big thanks are due to Woodberry’s varsity football coach Clint Alexander, who taught me the team’s weightlifting program a year ago. Without the past year’s efforts, I don’t know that I’d be able to keep up.
Today, though, I have a test to write. You object: the whole point of the Nachoman’s sabbatical was to do something DIFFERENT from teaching, right? Um, yes. But, the teacher within doesn’t hibernate without a fight. Here’s what happened.
Each morning of Umpire School begins with a biblical revival, except our “bible” is the rulebook. A reader stands at the podium and reads verbatim from the holy text, including the chapter and verse.[3] After each verse, preacher and chief instructor Paul Nauert highlights important phrases and gives interpretation, along with sermons where necessary. The only missing piece is the “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” from the crowd. I might be moved to add those in on Monday.
On Friday we studied Rule 1, the Book of the Playing Field. Mr. Nauert announced that he would administer a 10-question multiple choice test on Rule 1 on Monday. He was (to this physics teacher’s eyes) embarrassingly overspecific about the test questions, to the extent of saying “the palm width of the first baseman’s mitt is definitely on the test.” This test will require some study, as even serious baseball fans don’t always know the width of the catcher’s box,[4] but would not significantly tax even the weakest of Woodberry students.
Friday at the field we also learned some mechanics of the plate umpire, and Mr. Nauert enjoined us to practice those overnight. So, I organized a study group for Friday night. My thought was, we’d quickly remind ourselves of the playing field dimensions, then we’d work on plate mechanics by throwing socks at each other.[5] These plate mechanics are not conceptually difficult, but they require considerable physical drill. It’s one thing to explain verbally what to do on a passed ball; but I have to *do it* again and again in order to make my responses second nature.
Five folks showed up for the study group. All expressed extreme discomfiture with the forthcoming test. They couldn’t stop freaking out… “I stink at tests.” “I hope these tests aren’t the reason I don’t get into the minors.” “Gawd, I’m gonna fail this test.” Hoping to allay their fears, I went to the chalkboard, and I diagrammed the information we had to know. It turned out, most of these guys already knew most of the dimensions! They could have taken the test right then and there, and passed! Of course, no one believed me when I pointed that out. “No, you don’t understand, I’m gonna fail.”
I couldn’t help it. I took the chalk again, and started teaching, coming up with tricks to remember obscure measurements. Within 15 minutes, all of us knew pretty much everything we needed to. Then I made my big mistake. I suggested that one good way to study would be to write a pretend test. I mean, with only about 20 dimensions to learn, coming up with 10 questions should be straightforward.
Sure enough, they all pounced on that one: “When you write your practice test, can I see it?” Well, I hadn’t exactly planned to actually write one, I merely pointed out that it would be a useful exercise. But now I had an assignment.
I will spend this Sunday like so many others the past few months – writing a test while watching football. And, it’s worth it, as my offer to write a sample test got the study group away from the book work and into the sock throwing. I performed much better on the field Saturday for the study group’s practice on Friday night.
More soon, but I gotta do my homework first.
I did not go to The Library last night, nor did I even go with a big group to the pub across the street to watch the Steelers game.[2] Rather, I fell asleep around 8:30, woke up in time to see the last six minutes of the game, and fell asleep again for the night. I guess doing 100 or more squats a day for two days straight can wear out an old fart like me. Big thanks are due to Woodberry’s varsity football coach Clint Alexander, who taught me the team’s weightlifting program a year ago. Without the past year’s efforts, I don’t know that I’d be able to keep up.
Today, though, I have a test to write. You object: the whole point of the Nachoman’s sabbatical was to do something DIFFERENT from teaching, right? Um, yes. But, the teacher within doesn’t hibernate without a fight. Here’s what happened.
Each morning of Umpire School begins with a biblical revival, except our “bible” is the rulebook. A reader stands at the podium and reads verbatim from the holy text, including the chapter and verse.[3] After each verse, preacher and chief instructor Paul Nauert highlights important phrases and gives interpretation, along with sermons where necessary. The only missing piece is the “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” from the crowd. I might be moved to add those in on Monday.
On Friday we studied Rule 1, the Book of the Playing Field. Mr. Nauert announced that he would administer a 10-question multiple choice test on Rule 1 on Monday. He was (to this physics teacher’s eyes) embarrassingly overspecific about the test questions, to the extent of saying “the palm width of the first baseman’s mitt is definitely on the test.” This test will require some study, as even serious baseball fans don’t always know the width of the catcher’s box,[4] but would not significantly tax even the weakest of Woodberry students.
Friday at the field we also learned some mechanics of the plate umpire, and Mr. Nauert enjoined us to practice those overnight. So, I organized a study group for Friday night. My thought was, we’d quickly remind ourselves of the playing field dimensions, then we’d work on plate mechanics by throwing socks at each other.[5] These plate mechanics are not conceptually difficult, but they require considerable physical drill. It’s one thing to explain verbally what to do on a passed ball; but I have to *do it* again and again in order to make my responses second nature.
Five folks showed up for the study group. All expressed extreme discomfiture with the forthcoming test. They couldn’t stop freaking out… “I stink at tests.” “I hope these tests aren’t the reason I don’t get into the minors.” “Gawd, I’m gonna fail this test.” Hoping to allay their fears, I went to the chalkboard, and I diagrammed the information we had to know. It turned out, most of these guys already knew most of the dimensions! They could have taken the test right then and there, and passed! Of course, no one believed me when I pointed that out. “No, you don’t understand, I’m gonna fail.”
I couldn’t help it. I took the chalk again, and started teaching, coming up with tricks to remember obscure measurements. Within 15 minutes, all of us knew pretty much everything we needed to. Then I made my big mistake. I suggested that one good way to study would be to write a pretend test. I mean, with only about 20 dimensions to learn, coming up with 10 questions should be straightforward.
Sure enough, they all pounced on that one: “When you write your practice test, can I see it?” Well, I hadn’t exactly planned to actually write one, I merely pointed out that it would be a useful exercise. But now I had an assignment.
I will spend this Sunday like so many others the past few months – writing a test while watching football. And, it’s worth it, as my offer to write a sample test got the study group away from the book work and into the sock throwing. I performed much better on the field Saturday for the study group’s practice on Friday night.
More soon, but I gotta do my homework first.
[1] Or, if we’re working with Katrina, the one-man, one-woman system
[2] I did see that quarterback draw call on 4th and 2 for the Jaguars… great decision.
[3] And the batter SHALL be OUT when the plague of LOCUSTS doth descend upon him, unless it’s a playoff game in Cleveland.
[4] 43 inches
[5] That was actually a recommendation of several instructors. For example, we practiced keeping perfectly still in our plate stance while tracking the sock with our eyes only.
1 comment:
Greg,
I like your commentary about umpire school, I have never attended, but do plan to one day. I have created a umpire online community I wanted to let you know about at www.umpire-empire.com. I look forward to your continuing posts about umpire school and hope you have the opportunity to visit my new site.
Take care,
Wally
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