You’re Out
    Years ago, my son Andrew and my nephew Kenny played instructional baseball for two years. Mostly they just enjoyed playing. One reason all the boys liked to play was one pitcher was a cute young blonde girl. She was a great pitcher as well.
The boys on the team thought they were hot stuff. The team was the Pirates.Because the city of Pittsburgh was close and the city’s professional team is the Pirates. Their team’s uniforms were in the Pirates’ colors; white uniforms with black and gold trim.
    The ball fields sported aqua-blue port-a-potties, but otherwise, the ball fields were well maintained. I’m not sure who mowed and raked the fields, but they did a great job.
    My brother Ken and I helped the coaches at practices with batting, pitching, and throwing with the team. We also supported them by cheering and rooting.
    One day Kenny disappeared. We didn’t notice it until it was time for our team to take the field. We began to look for him. A red-hair topped head popped out of the port-a-potty when we finally noticed him. He had gone inside and used the outhouse only to find that there was no paper in the dispenser. He didn’t know what to do. His only hope was to catch someone’s attention to have them find some tissue.
    My brother Ken searched his car until he found some left-over paper napkins from a fast food restaurant. Kenny’s dignity was preserved and the ball practice went on.
    Occasionaly my brother and I would be pressed into service as umpires to officiate a game. My brother was chosen more often than I, because he was more assertive and more knowledgeable about the rules of the game than me. That was alright with me. I would get so involved in watching the game and I would come close to missing whether the runners were safe or out or hit balls were foul or fair. It was difficult for me to concentrate on those things.
    It was instructional baseball. They guys were learning the basics of the game; it became more and more difficult for my brother to watch some coaches being so hard on their young charges. It really irritated Ken when some coaches were overly rough with the young players. These kids weren’t professionals. They were only just learning the game. It was necessary for coaches to point out mistakes, but not to curse and swear at the boys. The rough treatment actually made my brother angry.
    The next game he was called on to officiate, Ken let the coaches know how he felt. Before the start of the first inning, he called the coaches together and explained his guidelines. “I’m warning you guys twice about cursing, swearing, or being rough with your players and then I’ll throw you out of the game. Consider this your first. Alright, let’s play ball.”