Someone Threw Socks At My Face During the Faculty Meeting

Umpire School rolls on, and is causing me considerable anxiety. I don’t quite understand why that’s the case – for me, unlike most of my classmates, a job in professional baseball is not at stake. The worst that can happen to me, even if I become the worst student here, is, um, nothing. Yet, I had knots in my stomach all day, knowing that I was scheduled to work an inning this afternoon. As a rule, I don’t get nervous, I don’t get performance anxiety… I was much calmer than this presenting my masters thesis, I was calmer in preparation for the state marching band championship finals in front of 20,000 people.[1] What is wrong with me?[2]

I put the nerves aside and turned in a non-embarrassing performance. I’d give myself an A- as the base umpire, where I moved properly, saw all touches of bases, and recognized and enforced a balk pretty much correctly.[3] As the plate umpire, though, I can’t give myself higher than a C. My main goal for today was to clear the plate area properly with runners on second or third base – that I did. But, I was in poor position to observe a foul pop; I failed to observe one touch of home plate; and, most critically, I flinched at two pitches coming toward my head.

Let’s talk about that flinching. A plate umpire is not supposed to move his head at all during the pitch, but is supposed to follow the ball with his eyes all the way to the glove or bat. One of my favorite umpiring moments of all time occurred in an Astros game last summer: the pitcher didn’t get the sign for a pitchout, so he threw a fastball over the plate while the catcher vacated the plate area. This put the ball on the very fast track toward veteran umpire Joe West’s face. Mr. West never moved a muscle, not even when the ball tipped the catcher’s glove and hit his mask in front of his left eye. FSN replayed the event frame by frame, demonstrating unambiguously that Mr. West didn’t even blink. Wow. There’s an umpire, folks.

Well, today I flinched, taking me out of position to call the pitch. More importantly, flinching actually can cause injury – I will be fine[4] should a ball tip off the bat and bonk me in the front of the mask. That’s why the plate umpire wears a mask, of course. But, if I flinch my head to the side a bit, I considerably reduce my protection. Flinch too much, and I could possibly suffer serious injury to my cheekbone. But, flinching is a natural instinct, not something anyone does consciously. We have to develop muscle memory (or, really, REMOVE muscle memory) so as not to flinch. How to do that?

Well, tonight Dan and I did a drill recommended to us by some instructors. In my hotel room, we took turns putting on the mask, getting in a plate stance… and taking a pair of rolled-up socks to the face. We threw the socks at each other again and again and again,[5] pausing occasionally to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of our situation. I wish the 4-year-old Nachoboy had been here tonight to help us, as “let’s throw socks at Dad’s face” is right up his alley.
The good news is, the knot in my stomach is gone for now. An evening of sock-throwing, *especially* while in my normal life I would have been sitting in a faculty meeting, jolted me back to the reality of why I’m here. This is supposed to be fun, not nerve racking.

[1] 1990 Kentucky state champions, 1986, 1987, 1988 state runners-up

[2] One possibility is that these five weeks of Umpire School represent the first time in decades that I’ve had no “extracurricular” activities. In high school, college, grad school, and at all of my teaching jobs there’s always been some auxiliary focus for my free time. I might have done poorly on a test, but there was still bridge club or the tennis team or professional scorekeeping to take my mind off of my primary job. But here it’s all umpiring, all the time.

[3] My misstatements are becoming part of my reputation down here. In enforcing the balk, I pointed directly at third base, and shouted clearly “YOU, SECOND BASE. I mean, THIRD BASE.” My goodness, I know which base is which. Or maybe not.

[4] If momentarily woozy

[5] My sock accuracy got pretty good. From about five meters out, I could hit Dan in the head at least 5 out of 7 times.