When I was fifteen years old I got my first job as a baseball umpire thus fulfilling my dream of getting screamed at by parents of nine year olds. The pay wasn’t all that much but the benefits were amazing (a free meal and a drink from the concession stand following the game). I got yelled at by angry parents almost every game but I must have been doing something right because after a little while I got the call that I was being promoted from the pitching machine league to live pitch baseball. My mom was so supportive of me and my “career” that she didn’t even hesitate to shell out the money needed to buy me all the new safety equipment required for me to be an umpire behind the plate which I’m sure wasn’t cheap.
My first Saturday as a live pitch umpire was a double header and I was both nervous and excited about my new responsibilities. Thankfully the umpire I was working with volunteered to be behind the plate the first game so I could watch him from the field and try to emulate his actions in the second game when it would be up to me to run the game. I don’t know how I did that first game so I’m assuming it went well otherwise I’m sure I would have remembered being yelled at. Once the first game ended it was time for the most exciting part of the day, the free chicken tenders and soda that I crammed down in the half hour between the games.
With ten minutes left until the start of the game I retreated to the handicap stall of the disgusting bathroom to put on all my equipment. It was as I put the leg pads on under my pants that I realized just how hot it was outside and how hot I would be in all of the equipment. That didn’t sound all that appealing to me nor did it sound fun to have first time pitchers with little control hurling hard baseballs towards me and that is when I thought about quitting my job as an umpire. I had never quit a job before and I didn’t quit that day, at least not verbally. Not eager to deal with an upset person by quitting just before a game started I opted for the easier option of not dealing with anyone whatsoever and I just left.
I don’t know what happened after that or what lie I told my mom but I never faced any negative consequences from her or the head umpire and was never confronted by the boss which seems strange because I still played baseball at the park and saw her from time to time. I’m not proud of how I quit but I am happy with the decision not to be super hot and have baseballs thrown at me. Unfortunately all of the brand new equipment that was bought for me was never used but it did all get opened so there was no way to return it. Sorry mom.