Being a Pussy

I have terrible manners. Several kickballers know this, even friends like "Smidty" from Hollywood's Little Lebowski's, Christian on Redrum or Kevin from Dogtown's Pregnant Cheerleaders.

Rarely, I'll go an entire game without even saying a negative word to a teammate. Last night, I didn't say much. Cameron and I quietly corrected a misapplied rule, otherwise nothing happened.

Then there was the 5th inning. We've already got a 3-0 lead and I made the questionable decision to run home after a caught pop fly caught 7 feet from where I was standing. The outfielder had subconsciously given me the "go ahead and run because I'm not going to do anything about it" look. So, I did and was called safe in a close play at the plate. No argument from the opposition. The next kicker comes up. First base ump whispers to home plate and I'm called out. A brief perplexed look and protest followed. Especially telling was that the opposition didn't fight for the new ruling and quietly accepted it.

After the game, I pointed out to the home plate ump that he rules home plate like the heroic ump signaling "safe" in the Norman Rockwell painting. He asked if I felt the first base ump "could not see the play from 60 feet away". I said I'd prefer to be judged from 5 inches away. Yes, the game's over and we won. Not the point.

Next, I learned what unconvincing hearsay I was called out on, "I said I THOUGHT it hit you." the 1st base ump said, then added, "I didn't know if it was before or after you touched the base though." He said he couldn't quite see where the base was. He WAS 60 feet away after all.

This isn't even "reasonable doubt" to overturn the call. This was reasonable doubt's retarded cousin "Unreasonable Belief". Nonsense.

So, naturally, instead of leaving the field with a "whatevs". I mumbled for the ump to fornicate himself. He returned the wishes. I told him to perform the act with extra enthusiasm on himself, which he advised me I would probably enjoy too much. I lobbed the whimsical suggestion of using his face and an icicle. He chose to end the discussion.

Towards the end of the exchange, I obviously realized I was being a douche and hinted at that with increasingly ludicrous ideas. Naturally I felt bad but enjoyed the creative exercise of taking insults into unusual territory. My opinion on the non-ruling is pretty solid but my behavior needs adjusting. I took the first opportunity at the bar to tell the ump "I have terrible manners. You're a good guy. I'm sorry, it's just what I do." Now, I'm not resigned to the way I act or always proud of it but I do like having a little fire and passion. Listen, if the ship's sinking, you'd want me on the crew. I'll never lose that but I'm always trying to apply it more positively. It'll take a lifetime but I think I'm getting better.