The flashpoint, the confrontation with the umpire, the fairly quick return to normal suits me and my temperament. This was a manner of relating my temperment today. I don’t reach that flashpoint very often, but still, I return to normal quickly once I have expressed myself and confronted the umpire, expressing my grievance. Getting the umpire to change his/her mind is not a concern, the necessity of self-expression, letting the feelings out is what is important about the confrontation.
I played on some teams that lost a lot of games, the College Park Lions lost almost every game one year. The theme song for the team, a rock and roll song of that year, “The Lions Sleep Tonight”. Losing a lot of games did not teach me to be a good sport. I never learned to accept losing gracefully playing baseball. Searching for more positive social skills learned in organized sports, I learned to not be critical of my teammates if they made a good effort. I got the concept and feeling of team play and some of the things that built that feeling.
Years later, when I was explaining to myself, then to others, why I was a good union organizer I could go back to the lessons NOT learned in organized sports. I was not a “good” loser, I hate losing. This motivated me to do everything that I could do, using all of my senses, in order to win. My strength in the win/lose of a union organizing drive was my aversion to losing. Hating to lose focused me, motivated me in ways others who had learned to play the good game were not motivated.
The lesson I learned in my youthful participation in sports, mostly baseball, was the antithesis of the goal and theme of youth sports. Learning to be a “good sport” even today is an indelible ideal. Like it is better to give than to receive, “it matters not whether you win or lose but how you play the game” is the stated goal of all youth sports, as true today as forty years ago.
I wasn’t buying any of it when I was young. It simply was not my read of the culture, perhaps this was the beginning of my rebellion although of course I couldn’t articulate it much more than by my heros. Leo Doerocher, “good guys finish last”, the old Tiger, Ty Cobb. Winning was what it was about, the culture screamed this to me, not some other standard, how you play the game?
Baseball was my love as a kid. I remember noticing a particular girl in the sixth grade but most of my time and affections at that time were devoted to learning to catch the short hop throw at first base or as a pitcher, throwing the ball over the plate in a way that alluded the hitter’s bat. I spent time with my gloves, studying the box score, something I still do, and perfecting the hidden ball trick.
The hidden ball trick appeals to every twelve year old who wants to win. It seems like it was tried in almost every game I played as a youth. It was not particularly effective, but it had great appeal because it was a trick, had nothing to do with skill, therefore anyone could work it. With an opposing team player on base, the first basemen (second or third baseman) goes to the pitching mound to speak with the pitcher. The ball is exchanged, pitcher to first basemen. First basemen goes back to his position. When the runner steps off of first base he is tagged by the first basement. Out!
The sub-text of all of this was winning. For me I think this was an accurate read of culture, early 1960's. Perhaps the “Cold War” with winners and losers set the cultural context. Baseball suited by temperament. I wanted to do things. Make things happen. I liked playing first base because there was action and activity over there, the same for pitching. Right field was for a different kind of person, one that didn’t want engagement. Right field was where the weakest player was positioned.
My organized sports career had several confrontations with the umpire. The one I remember best was with my parents watching, a slide at home plate, a close play. I honestly don’t know if I was safe or not, but I wanted to be safe and it was very close. I jumped up and started screaming at the umpire. The scene went on for a while, undoubtedly like one I had seen by the professionals, my mentors. I don’t know what my parents thought about what they were watching, I can only relate as a parent, if it was my daughter creating the scene.
