Random dispatches

Some stray thoughts as I procrastinate doing important(ish) stuff this afternoon...

• I had umpiring to do last night, and as I arrived at the Woodland Park ballfields I was approached by one of my favorite players to ump over the years, a guy named Stephen. His team wasn't on my schedule, they were set to play on the adjacent field that my fellow umpire was handling, but he saw me deliver a gear bag to her and came up to talk to me. A few years back, Stephen was involved in (but by no means instigated) a confrontation between players on opposing teams in a game I was officiating, and after I'd sent combatants back to their corners and resumed the game, Stephen apologized to me and owned his (minor) part in what could have been an escalation of hostilities if I'd not intervened. That impressed me since he was basically the injured party and had cause to be upset. Since that game, whenever Stephen's team and I crossed paths it made my shifts a little more fun/less stressful since I knew at least one team would be well-behaved and good-humored. Anyway, last night Stephen said, "Hey, I'm glad you're here. This is my last game and I'm moving to New York next week. It's been a lot of fun playing in the league these past years and whenever we had you for our ump you made it that much better. The team loves you. Just wanted to you to know." After his game was over we chatted a little more about what he planned to do in NYC and he reiterated his praise. I say this not to toot my own horn—OK, it's partly to toot my own horn, I do enjoy my reputation, as one fellow staff member put it, as "the Ken Griffey Jr. of umpires" in the league—but to say to the Internet masses here that, if there's someone in your associative circle you appreciate for whatever reason, let them know. Odds are they aren't getting such feedback from their boss or co-workers or whomever else that might have authority, odds are they hear negative feedback far more frequently, and it can be more than helpful to know someone appreciates their effort in doing whatever it is they do. For my part, knowing Stephen and a few others appreciate how I run a game makes it a lot more tolerable when other people insult me or otherwise make an umping shift unpleasant. I'll miss Stephen! Thankfully I still have Megan, Yoon, Dae, Frankie, Robin, and everyone on The Leftovers (among others) occasionally peppering my shifts with good cheer. 
• My new car is already in the shop, though this was half-planned. I knew from the inspection I had done it needed a couple of things dealt with right away, and that was supposed to be all handled this afternoon. Unfortunately there was a parts snafu and the mechanics can't finish until tomorrow. So I'll be relying on Ye Olde Metro Transit for getting to tonight's Mariner game and back. Alas.
• Speaking of the Mariners, despite their current second-place standing behind the Houston Astros in the American League West and third behind Minnesota and Boston for the consolation-prize Wild Card position, I'm more bullish on their postseason possibility than at any point since maybe May, and they had a big lead then. All because they finally sent Scott Servais and Jarret DeHart packing. Since Dan Wilson took over last Friday, with Edgar Martinez at his side, the M's are 3-1 (against San Francisco and Tampa Bay) and have gained 1½ games on the Astros, and of those three wins I am utterly convinced that they would have lost at least two of them under the Servais regime because critical runs were scored by runners from third without benefit of a hit. Which had been a foreign concept under DeHart. Edgar made a point of telling the press that one of his goals was to emphasize situational hitting and another was to reduce strikeouts, and it paid off immediately. Even the San Francisco Giants' broadcast team noticed, as they remarked over the weekend that Seattle batters were changing their approach when they had two strikes on them, noting some guys choking up on the bat to shorten their swing and what appeared to be deliberate intent to foul off certain pitches. Shortstop Leo Rivas delivered a game-winning hit in such an at-bat on Friday. Sunday two runs scored on grounders that Julio Rodriguez and Randy Arozarena busted hard out of the box on to avoid double-plays. None of that would have happened before. Yesterday the M's beat Tampa Bay with home runs, more like the earlier regime preached, but they were "happenstance homers," not borne of swinging for the fences but of swinging for a line-drive. Josh Rojas and Luke Raley seem particularly better since the regime change; Wilson even had Rojas in the starting lineup against a lefty yesterday, something Servais never did, and what do you know, Josh was 2-for-3 against said lefty, a line single, a hard double off the wall, and lined hard just barely foul before striking out on a tough pitch. Plus he stole a base and scored the only non-homer-delivered run of the game. There have been bunts and bunt attempts in interesting situations by batters other than Luke Raley. Andres Muñoz was not called in too early from the bullpen in a close game. Surprisingly good reliever Collin "Principal" Snider was not yanked after getting in a spot of trouble but was allowed to get out of it himself. Dan is still batting Cal Raleigh third in the order, which I don't like, but it's only been four games and Victor Robles hasn't been available to lead off. We'll see if that changes soon.
• Shit, I've procrastinated too long. Gotta go.

Tagged Baseball, Seattle Mariners, Umping, Cars   |   Posted on August 27, 2024 at 4:44pm   |   Permalink   |     |  

I'm bad at haggling

Yesterday I had the inspection done on the ’07 Prius. It was done by the very fine mechanics at Everybody's Auto Service, who are awesome and whom I heartily recommend (unlike the people at Bucky's Shoreline; I'm 85% sure they ripped me off last winter when fixing my Subaru's exhaust system). They found a few routine things and two big red marks on the inspection checklist, including the critical component of a Prius, the hybrid battery.

The car had been presented to me by the used car dealership as having had its hybrid battery replaced with a new one in 2021 and thus had years of life left in it. That was one of its main appeals over other cars I had been considering, and finding out it's actually either still the original battery from 2006 or just as bad as that is a deal-breaker. The car also has some suspension issues that are less critical but should be addressed sometime.

Anyway, the Everybody's guys quoted me a very good price for parts and labor, but still nearly $3,000 to remedy these problems. So I had to decide whether to keep the car or exercise my option to return it and reclaim my Subaru while I still could. But I decided to try a middle ground first and see if the seller would kick in for the repairs.

That is what happened in the end, but not before I gave myself a fair amount of unnecessary stress and anxiety.

As I said before, I have very little experience with the subspecies of humans known as car salesmen. But I know their reputation, and as much as I would like to discard any prejudicial thinking, it was there and being reinforced; I resented having been pressured into buying the car before an inspection and was irked about the misrepresentation of a new battery and was thus casting aspersions in my head on the men who sold me the car.

But I still wanted to get this whole transaction completed in a satisfactory way, so I thought about how to approach the dealer about covering repair costs. I called the dealership and left a message that the inspection wasn't satisfactory and we could negotiate further or I would negate the deal, then waited for them to respond. Meanwhile, I was arguing both sides in my head—I want this, they would counter with, well, that isn't really our responsibility; I'd say, you would have to do these repairs if I returned the car anyway, and you do want my Subaru, right? They'd say, well, we'll cover the suspension repair, the rest is usual expectations; I'd insist the hybrid battery is critical and they promised it was new, they'd say it wasn't us that promised anything of the kind, the notation of battery replacement was from before we took possession. This went on and on in my head.

I reached a conclusion—totally one-sided, mind you, with no input whatsoever from the dealer—that I could probably get them to pay for parts and beyond that would involve a tense back-and-forth that would ultimately depend on how badly they wanted the Subaru.

They didn't get back to me until around noon today, so my subconscious continued to plague me as I slept. I had dreams about telling off car dealers, about having to steal back the Subaru because they wouldn't honor their opt-out guarantee, about an endless feud of pettiness between me and the city of Monroe, where the dealership is. This was my state of mind when I heard back from them.

The actual conversation with the dealership went like this:

Me: "The inspection turned up $3,000 worth of repairs, I would not have agreed to the contract had I been made aware of these issues."

Car salesman: "I understand, that's why we offered you the opt-out."

Me: "If you guys would kick in for a good percentage of the repairs, we can call the deal sealed, otherwise I'll be back to see you in an hour to reclaim my Subaru."

Salesman: "Well, what would you want from us, what do you think is fair?"

Me (somewhat indignantly): "That you pay for replacement parts, that's about half the estimate from my mechanic."

Salesman: "OK, we can do that. We'll cut you a check."

So, I learned nothing from the trade-in conversation on Friday, when I clearly had the leverage and lowballed myself asking for just $100 more than their increased offer. I still don't think they'd have agreed to pay the whole $3k, but I might have been able to get $2k out of them? Ultimately, I'll get $1,350, which is the cost of parts, exactly what I asked them for based on nothing more than my inexperienced and uninformed self-arguments.

I'm not sure if this is a failing or not, really. I mean, I realize that negotiation strategy says to start by asking for more than you think you'll get and trade figures downward until you reach unacceptable levels, but that goes against the grain for me, especially when I'm at the contextual disadvantage. So I was straightforward in asking for what I thought was the minimally fair result in both cases (trade-in and repair), intending to end it right there if it wasn't agreed to; the other party is under no obligation of any sort to tell me if my interpretation of fair was lower than theirs. So do I think of it as integrity or playing myself for a sucker?

Right now I fee like it's both.

But ultimately I have the car. It will, after repair, have cost me an amount only slightly outside the budget I'd given myself. I still have to get the repairs done, which I have a request out to Everybody's to schedule. After that I can move on. Literally, and using less than half the gasoline as before.

Tagged Cars, Money   |   Posted on August 20, 2024 at 6:03pm   |   Permalink   |     |  

I bought a car

I bought a car yesterday. I hadn't really intended to. I mean, I fully intended to at some point before the year was out, I just wasn't planning on doing it yesterday.

I'd been half-heartedly looking at car sites online and budgeting things in my head for a while—first after spending $3,500 on repairs to my previous car in February and then with a little more seriousness when I got a warning light on my dash some weeks ago that promised more expense to come a few months down the line—but yesterday's visit to a dealership to check out a particular listing was, I expected, just going to be a test drive and some experience with car salesmen to build upon when I'm really ready to go later on.

I think it's that lack of experience with car dealers that ultimately had me signing papers, and I'm not altogether sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, I got a good deal on the car; all told, out the door including fees, taxes, and the trade-in of my prior 25-year-old jalopy, I got a 2007 Prius with 120k miles on it and a really good 1-owner service history for $8,100. The only Priuses (Prii?) I'd found in my searching that were less expensive had good reason to be so, either with damage histories or much higher mileage. I don't regret the purchase and I'm hopeful it will work out well in the long run.

But I wanted to do things in a certain order and the dealer wasn't cooperating with my more methodical approach. That makes it sound like I was dealing with hardass high-pressure sales dudes, but if so they were really good at it and knew just the right way to charm without overtly charming, if that makes sense. I knew from the time of making the appointment that I had competition, one potential buyer at that location and a few from their primary lot in North Bend, where the car would have been taken early next week if it hadn't sold yet. (Whether the car would really have gone to North Bend in a few days I don't know, I give it a 40-60 chance that was BS, but I was reasonably sure I was competing with three others of indeterminate seriousness of intention.) Also, the dealership was not conveniently located, it was a 45 minute drive from my home; this was a Friday afternoon and anyplace I could get it inspected wouldn't be available until Monday; there was no attempt to upsell or get me to finance with them; and they offered me more than expected for my trade-in.

I just don't make big decisions impulsively. I am the Processing King of Shoreline, after all, I generally have to think things through to an extent that goes beyond usefulness. So I had a bit of anxiety at the dealership. I was about to walk away when the owner of the dealership upped the trade-in offer by $200, making it that much more than what others and websites had led me to believe I would get for trade-in value. He wanted my Subaru. So I asked for another $100 on top of that and he agreed and I felt like, OK, now I have to do it. Also, damn, maybe I should have asked for $200 more.

Still, I did insist on a window in which to get it third-party inspected with a guarantee that if the inspection turned up anything misrepresented or omitted by the dealer the contract would be nullified and I'd get my Subaru back, and they gave that in writing without any hemming and hawing at all.

So in effect I got what I wanted out of my deliberative process, I just had to get there in a more anxious way. Inspection is scheduled for Monday afternoon, I have until Thursday at close of business to exercise my "opt-out," if you will.

If they hadn't pressured me to buy it on the spot, or if they hadn't agreed to my trade-in ask, I'd likely not have gotten to go back for it later and eventually bought something else that would either have cost me more money, been a bit older, and/or been in worse condition. Or maybe not, who knows. My other leading contender had been an ’04 with about the same mileage and a lesser service history and a higher price tag by about $500. Others I was looking at had been in accidents, had been rental cars, or were more than $10k, and beyond that I'd be looking at payments and I have serious debt anxiety. I'd previously made an appointment to see another one today that's listed at $10k+ and that I was hoping I could negotiate down, but I obviously cancelled that.

Despite the residual anxiety, I'm looking at this in a positive light. When I get the inspection report I'll feel better either way—good choice, or CTRL-Z on the whole thing.

For now, though, it's a little weird; I parked it in a lot when I went into a store on the way home yesterday and when I came back out I automatically started heading for the red car parked a few spaces away before realizing that I don't have a red car anymore. Nothing is where I expect it to be on the dashboard. The split-level rear window is a bit strange. It's a little disconcerting when the gas engine stops running at stoplights. The buttons on the key fob are way too sensitive and I inadvertently set off the alarm last night. It'll take a little getting used to.

It's a used car, of course, so it's got some wear on it. The worst is a crack in the plastic bumper cover (I'd guess from backing into a post in a parking garage), which I can fix myself if I want to take the time to do it (thank you, YouTube). There's a tiny bit of paint scratching and a bit of paint wear on the rear spoiler. Again, I can touch that up if I want to, a can of matching paint and one of topcoat would cost less than $40. Even if I screw up the bumper and need a replacement, I can get one for $100 and paint/install it myself.

Now I've just got to figure out the "smart key" and how to pair the car to my phone. Sometimes it's weird, living in the future.

Tagged Cars, Money   |   Posted on August 17, 2024 at 5:54pm   |   Permalink   |     |  

First-world problems

My car is in the shop. Nothing horrible, really, at least I don't think so. I'll know more when the mechanic gives me an update tomorrow. Exhaust system issues. It's an old car, things happen.

Being without it for a few days isn't a big deal, but I did have an umpiring shift to cover this evening at Capitol Hill. Fortunately, Cap Hill is the only one of our parks to which I don't have to haul equipment to and from, it all stays on site, which makes getting there without the car less cumbersome. Ye olde metro buses can get me there and back in about an hour's time each way.

Theoretically.

I know from plenty of experience that relying on the bus can be a tenuous thing, so I made sure to leave early enough to accommodate delays. Particularly since no matter what, on a Sunday I have no practical alternative to what we refer to around here as "the crazy bus," i.e. the KC Metro E Line. Up in my neck of the woods it's generally not a big deal, but from the city limits on into downtown the route is often populated by a demographic cohort that is underprivileged and in various manners unhealthy. Thus, riding the E Line is unpredictable.

Still, things went smoothly on the way down and I got to the park with 20 minutes to spare. I used the time to chat up some of my favorite players that were in the game currently being played under the early-game umpire's watch and remark on the start of Major League spring training and generally shoot the breeze while defending my fellow umpire from some criticism. (I mean, yes, he did miss that call at first, but given the bases-loaded situation you got to cut him a little slack; he's only got one pair of eyes and they can't watch all three bases at the same time.) It's playoffs, people get testy.

That game ended and I relieved my fellow ump and took over, grateful that the lights at Cal Anderson park were working again and there were no obnoxious soccer players getting in our way on this cold evening. New teams took the field and I let my ego soak up the comments from both departing and arriving players—"dude, what the hell, why didn't we get you for our game?"; "hey good, Tim's here"; "you're so much better than the other umps"—and I was enjoying things. I made two bad calls, one on a ball/strike decision that was irrelevant as the next pitch was put in play, one more important on a hard grounder over the bag at third base that I called fair and that led to several runs. In the moment I didn't know if it was fair or foul, the angle from home plate on that kind of thing is pretty bad and there was no time to shift position, but it has to be called immediately anyway, so I pointed fair. No complaints, but I still wasn't sure, so after the inning I went to the third baseman, a guy I've seen a lot of doing these games, and asked him. He said it was foul. I believe him, he's not a troublemaker. Oh well. There were a few other bang-bang plays I know I did get right despite some pushback (playoffs, people get testy), so there.

The winner of that game was to play again immediately following in a semifinal match, but as we were nearing the start time for that one I wasn't seeing anyone new show up. Usually by the 5th or 6th inning the teams for the next game are at least partly there, warming up on the sidelines. We were running a bit late, but with no next team waiting I didn't rush things and let the game go the full 7 regulation frames as the Chop Zone Outlaws emerged victorious with a nice double-play turned in the home 7th to secure the win.

Still no opposing team and we were well past the permissible grace period to avoid a forfeit, so I called off the second game and packed up the gear, thinking I'd get home early and get to warm up. The Metro Transit app on my phone told me I could catch a bus in a short few minutes and be home in under an hour. Good, I needed dinner.

But this again involved a transfer to the crazy bus. So it was not to be.

In addition to the typical E Line happenings—a guy sat next to me and started rapping a tune about Jesus; two stops for wheelchair riders that required some delay; the expected onslaught of fragrance from unwashed bodies that gives me empathy for fictional Vulcans on fictional human starships—something happened just as we entered the on-ramp to the portion of Aurora Avenue that becomes limited-access. What happened I still don't know, I haven't been able to suss it out, but we stopped in the middle of the long ramp, stuck behind a disabled bus immediately ahead. Why we couldn't go around I'm not sure, but we were stuck and given where the bus was, the driver didn't want to just let us all out; there was a small shoulder, but next to that a big concrete divider with another lane of traffic and an elevation drop on the other side and opposite another divider beyond which was traffic going the other way. Pedestrians were not accommodated there.

So we waited for help. Some Metro mechanic or tow vehicle or something to clear the way.

But nothing happened. I got through the latest episode of the Fast Politics podcast in its entirety before the first passenger rebelled and broke the cover over the emergency release on the back door and let himself out. The driver resealed the door best he could, then went to talk to the driver of a third bus which was now stuck behind us. Before long other passengers pulled the same maneuver and reopened the door and just walked out into the street. Fortunately, this is on a Sunday night when traffic was relatively light.

Eventually Metro officials had blocked off a makeshift pedestrian route for us to exit the bus and walk back along the on ramp to what my California relatives would call the surface street, and we got to wait for the next E bus to arrive with two other complements of passengers. That took a while (during which time it started to snow), then we all crowded into the next bus, which made a bit of a detour to rejoin the highway later on, and I managed to get to my stop and exit the bus before the headache that had started building as soon as I got on the overcrowded coach had gotten truly unbearable. The few-blocks walk back to my place in the snowy sleet wasn't quite enough to clear my head but it helped.

The thing is, had I stayed to work that second game, because of Sunday schedules and such, I would have had an alternative to the crazy bus. There is a night-owl route out of Northgate that gets relatively close to my place, I could have taken the train to Northgate and caught that instead; barring other complications, I actually would have been home well before I actually made it here.

Alas. 

I've got another game to ump tomorrow night. This one I have to haul gear to, so my car better be ready by then. Otherwise I have to brave the crazy bus again, but with a 10-pound bag of softball gear. [Cue sad trombone noise.]

Tagged Umping, Cars, Seattle   |   Posted on February 25, 2024 at 11:57pm   |   Permalink   |     |  

Bits and pieces

Returned after paying impound ransom. Glass half full.

Howdy. It's been over a week since the last post, but not for lack of material. I'd actually intended to write about a few things since the Great Car Caper, including its own follow-up, but you know how it is. Work, inertia, splitting headaches, a general feeling of "I just don't want to be at my desk anymore tonight." Anyway, in lieu of the various individual posts I'd been pre-writing in my head since then, here's a catchall one with a few bits and pieces from what I'm sure would have been much more elaborate and articulate ramblings had they gotten their due in a timely manner.

• Car update: The police recovered my car relatively soon after its theft and the only damage to it was superficial (exterior) and annoying (interior), which is to day a chunk missing from the plastic "rain guard" (I suppose it guards from rain getting into the door seal?), a small dent, and what appears to have been an aborted attempt to remove my Biden-Harris bumper sticker; and a truly impressive amount of garbage strewn through the inside. Mostly the trash was food wrappers, candy remnants, fast food bags, fast food detritus, that sort of thing, plus a few empty cans of spray paint. I presume the thieves were graffiti taggers.
  My working theory is that the thieves used the car to go from place to vandalize with spray paint to next place to vandalize with spray paint, with stops at various fast food and convenience store candy marts, until it ran out of gas, at which point they abandoned it to likely steal someone else's car rather than buy fuel. Score one for my inefficient internal combustion engine.
  I emptied all the trash, plus a little of my own trash that was still there, and aired the car out for a day or so to get the smell of fast food out of it. That done, and since I don't care to try and fix the superficial exterior damage, the only real harm done to me aside from the inconvenience of being without it for a few days was the ransom demanded by Lincoln Towing, the company that provided the impound lot the police use. They charged me the towing fee, a city regulatory fee, and hourly storage fees for the time they had the car. Quite the racket they've got going. Other cities have laws that protect auto theft victims from this kind of predation, but not this one. Apparently there was an attempt to pass a measure to address this in the state legislature some time back, but it didn't go anywhere. Alas. Still, way cheaper than replacing the car, so I'm choosing to look at it in a glass-half-full sort of way. And I ordered a wheel-lock thingy for future use when parking on the street.
• Erik went to Korea. And Taiwan. Who knew? This strikes me as a little weird, not because Erik went to these places, but because not long ago I had a strange dream in which my dad and Marty were planning on moving to Pusan. It made zero sense.
• The CNN thing with the "Town Hall" debacle featuring former President VonClownstick was something I was all worked up to write a whole screed about, but now that some time has passed I'm less outraged. Not because the event wasn't deserving of outrage, it was. The fact that CNN thought hosting such a forum would result in anything other than a fiasco is mind-boggling. On the other hand, CNN is under new management that wants it to be a place for disaffected Fox "News" viewers to go, so maybe this is just the first taste of their new business plan. Regardless, the thing did serve a positive purpose among all its rampant disservices, and that is that it provided a ton of material for campaign ads against VonClownstick. The program reminded those of us that were no longer paying attention to politics and the news as deeply as others of us do just who this guy is, that he has not changed, that he will not change, that he is among the vilest human beings to have ever lived. And of who his fans are. That he has followers that just eat his vileness for breakfast and regurgitate it onto society.
  Most of the news coverage after the fact has been criticism of CNN. Slate.com has a good analysis of it that includes:
  

  Absolutely every single moment of this debacle was predictable, and it is enraging to see CNN making the exact same mistakes it made when Trump first entered into the public sphere eight years ago. The network gave a seditious would-be despot carte blanche to openly lie on live television for an hour, in front of an adoring crowd, with ineffective pushback from a reporter who, if Wednesday night is any indication, is nowhere near ready for prime time. The pregame chatter among CNN’s vacuous panelists, meanwhile, used the same empty framing that has long made the term “talking heads” a pejorative.

  All the CNN-bashing is deserved, to be sure, but it misses the bigger issue of what the former president said during the televised hour of journalistic seppuku. He perpetuated his election lies. He once again defamed the woman he has been ordered by a court to pay $5 million to as damages for his sexual assault and defamation of her. He called the Supreme Court's overturning of Roe v. Wade "a great victory." Instead of answering a question about why he stole government documents after leaving office, he insulted the questioner. Of the January 6, 2021 insurrectionist footsoldiers, he said "They were there with love in their heart. That was unbelievable and it was a beautiful day." He avoided taking any kind of position on the war in Ukraine, lest it upset his good friend Vladimir. That is all very, very important information that should show everyone in the world how this man should not be allowed anywhere near any position of any authority ever again, but because of how it was presented (and subsequently covered by many) I fear that point will not get across to anyone who needs to hear it.
  CNN CEO Chris Licht said, in response to the criticism of his network's production, "You do not have to like the former president’s answers, but you can’t say that we didn’t get them." Except, yes, Chris, I can say you didn't get them. You got propaganda. You got deflections. You got bald-faced lies. When he was all but cornered on the stolen documents thing, you got "You're a nasty person" as his "answer."
  The American news media as a whole is terrible, TV news in particular, but outlets one might consider to be better, like National Public Radio, are guilty of the same kind of malfeasance, treating the sort of behavior DJT and his minions exhibit as basically normal politics when it is anything but.
• Related to the CNN thing, there is The Gun Thing. I had some further ranting to do on that, on how the gun "debate" is evidentiary just on its own of the fact that the modern Republican party deserves to be labeled a domestic terrorist organization, but instead today I think I'll just let Wil speak for me.
• I had another umpiring shift yesterday, four games in the sun on the first summery weekend we've seen this year up in these parts. By and large it was a good day, few points of conflict. But there were some, and they put me in mind of something my friend (and softball teammate) Mack posted over on the Book of Faces. I will reproduce it here:

  I'm sure my Laws of Sports Conduct apply to every recreational sport, but I don't play "every" recreational sport, I just play softball, and here goes:
  

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  1. Never so much as grumble to an umpire.
  

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  Teams, you're paying the ump like $20 to have them give an unbiased opinion on balls and strikes, safe and out, so STFU and take their word for it. Without an umpire, you'd have no walks and no strikeouts, and some batters would be there for like twenty pitches before they put the ball in play. Also, don't expect the umpire to be better at umpiring than you are at playing. ???? If you suspect that an umpire is mis-applying the rules, you'd better have your rulebook handy, or else don't go out there. Simply, don't. You have a fixed amount of time to play your game. Every minute you spend interacting with an official can cost your teammates an at-bat or even an entire inning of play. It's not worth it.
  

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  2. Try to not hurt anybody.
  

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  Your job on the field is to make sure nobody gets hurt. So when you're thinking about doing something "sportsmanlike" that can get somebody hurt, don't do it. Don't. Just don't do it. Never ever ever "take someone out" at second base. Don't do it. Your "job" isn't to prevent the double play, it's to keep the opposing player healthy enough to go out to the bar after the game. Don't throw your bat, don't make throws that your teammate can't handle, don't do the "fake tag" thing that makes somebody slide when there isn't even a play on them, and on fly balls—yell loud and clearly that either you're taking it or the other person's taking it. No crashes over a silly pop fly, OK?
  

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  3. Respect the equipment.
  

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  If you're the kind of player who slams a bat down after striking out, or throws a glove after making an error . . . you need to chill the fuck out. You look like a poster child for a domestic violence abuser, and if your teammate is caring enough, they will and should refer you to some counseling. I often joke that a good craftsperson always blames their tools, because it's obvious that it's not the tool, it's the craftsperson. It's really okay if you're a player who drops a ball or swings and misses. The greatest baseball players in history do that. The reason they "act out" is because of some stupid code that "shows they care." You don't have to show you care—because you shouldn't care. The game doesn't matter. We do this for recreation, not recognition, and certainly not for the adulation. Chill the fuck out.
  

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  4. Be supportive of the other team's players.
  

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  You're not being disloyal by showing appreciation when the other team makes a nice play or gets a nice hit. It's been proven that we feel better after a high-five than we do after grumbling about a missed opportunity. You don't have to applaud wildly when they turn a double play against you, but you might feel better telling the shortstop, "Nice play" rather than think, "you fucken bastid!"
  

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  I've had my share of inappropriate interactions on the playing field. I remember each and every one of them, which is a shame, because I've had so much fun on the field, all of those games and all of those innings and all of those at-bats . . . but it seems that those memories of the pleasant and fun times don't linger. Those memories may not linger, the fun of turning a double play or driving in a run or taking an extra base or making a nice relay throw . . . but the effects of those activities DO linger. They help build friendships, they help build community, they help make the world a better place, one play at a time.
  Fun. Recreational sports should be fun. I'm going out there this season to have fun. I invite you, if you're partaking in a recreational sport, to go out and just have fun! And try hard to not hurt anybody!

  Obviously, Mack's first point is the one that resonates most with me because I'm often on the umpire's side of things. I'm paid a bit more than $20 a game, but not nearly enough to accept the sort of treatment that an occasional player will vent my way. To date I have ejected exactly two players from softball games in over four years, and one of those was for physical violence, but I have been tempted to toss many. Three or four I probably should have tossed but didn't. Yesterday my shift began in an unusual fashion in that, before the games started, I was approached by a guy who had been giving me shit last week. "Hey man," he said, "I just want to apologize for last week. I just started acting out of my head for no reason at all, I don't know what the fuck that was even about. Sorry." This was good, set the stage for a good day that was only marred by one further violation (from someone else on a different team) of Mack's Rule #1 and one inadvertent violation of Rule #2 that led to some potentially damaging violations of Rule #4 that I was able to defuse relatively quickly. The Rule #1 violator is a chronic offender, though, which makes me cringe a little when I see his team on my schedule.
• I can't believe it's taken me this long to read another Neal Stephenson book. Years and years ago I read Snow Crash, which was terrific, and Zodiac, also quite good, but it's only in the last couple of weeks that I cracked open another Stephenson tome. This one is Cryptonomicon, which is, if I'm recalling Snow Crash properly, not as awesome as that but still pretty darn fine. Plenty more when I finish this one, I guess.
• I am going to unload my tickets to the Mariners/Yankees game on May 31st. That's a softball (playing, not umping) night for me and I'm already missing the prior week's game for similar reasons. Anyone reading this that wants the pair of (quite good) upper deck seats may have them for cost or in trade, otherwise I'm putting them on StubHub for profit. Let me know.

Tagged Politics, President VonClownstick, Republicans, Umping, Cars, Softball, News, Books   |   Posted on May 15, 2023 at 11:12pm   |   Permalink   |     |  

That's not what the song means

So, Thursday night I had an umpiring shift over at Cal Anderson Park on Capitol Hill. Not unusual, I generally do a couple of those a week out there. On this evening I found myself running late because of a traffic snarl on the freeway—someone had lost a barbecue grill out of the back of a pickup truck, so everyone was wisely slowing down and changing lanes so as not to collide with this tipped-over piece of outdoor cooking tech in the center lane, causing a backup of many miles—and I was hurrying to get to the field on time. Usually on a Thursday I have to park several blocks away. The league doesn't reimburse me for parking as a rule, so I troll for free spots in a very densely populated part of town. On this day, though, I lucked out—someone had just vacated a spot less than one block from the park. The opposite end of the park I needed to be at, but still. Seemed like a break and I got there in plenty of time to set up the field and start the night's games on schedule.

The games were good, mostly with teams I'd not encountered before, though I knew one of the groups from the first game of the evening. Good guys and gals, although some of them kept on nagging me about the conditions; the lights at the park are broken, only about 1/3 of them come on and it's pretty dark when you need to track a fly ball, but what good nagging me about it does is a mystery. For the most part the newbies were good folks too, I was even complimented by one of the guys who was impressed with my "fun differential" (which is a literal inside-baseball joke referring to last year's Seattle Mariners) while another offered to help me collect the outfield cones and another one was effusive about my getting out to call plays on the bases and making sure everyone knew what was what (I figure his prior rec softball experience might be in the city league I sometimes play in, which has some of the gawd-awfulest umpiring I've been around with guys that just stand rooted in place and quietly go "hup" when calling a strike that might well be over a batter's head).

Anyway, when the games were completed at 11:00 and I had packed up the gear, I had some pep in my step and walked the length of the park back toward my car, already plotting out the rest of my night. I have to stop by the league office on the way home to get a gear bag for Sunday's shift, then I'm going to pick up a couple of quick groceries from the one 24-hour Safeway I can think of, then go home, feed the cats, put up my feet, and watch the Mariner game recorded from this afternoon while I eat leftovers from Karen's cooking the prior night. I was humming to the earworm in my head of a Billy Joel song from his 52nd Street album, even though I hadn't been listening to that earlier, and was feeling pretty good.

Then I arrived at my allegedly lucky parking spot to find some other car parked there.

WTF?!

Had I parked illegally? Did someone tow my car? No signs for towing companies anywhere. The posted parking restrictions all expired at 6:00pm and I didn't arrive until a bit before 7:00. But it is Cap Hill, people are zealous about parking. I was kind of freaking out, but also kind of methodical.

I called a friend who has more experience than I do with navigating the parking of Cap Hill, but he had no answers. I called the towing company used by the city police when they tow illegally parked cars. Do you have my car? Nope, sorry. So, the police it is. Called 911—which I was surprised you are supposed to do in a case like this, but you are—and reported my missing vehicle and they dispatched a police unit to talk to me. Took a while for them to get there, a missing car can't be high on the priority list, but they showed around midnight.

Officer Chu was fantastic. Good-humored guy, looked over the site and confirmed, yes, a legal spot, no reason you'd have been towed, 99% likely stolen as it's an older car with no anti-theft stuff. Plus the electronic locks don't work reliably anymore, I have to remember to manually lock the doors, and honestly can't remember if I checked them all since I was hurrying to the field. Chu let me know that the recovery rate for stolen cars is actually pretty high in these parts (around 70%), unlike in other cities and other parts of the country where it can be puny, so I may well get it back before too long. He and his partner, whose name I did not get, gave me a positive experience with the Seattle police, which was reassuring but also made me wonder if certain of my friends would have gotten the same treatment given their ethnic backgrounds. I'm choosing to believe Officer Chu would be just as cool with them because, hey, he seemed like a good dude. His mustachioed partner, who knows, he didn't say much.

After finishing with the cops I made my way to the Cap Hill train station and barely caught the last train of the night that would take me as far as the Northgate station, after which I begged a favor of my only friend in the north end with wheels that I knew wasn't a freakish morning person (looking at you, Failor) and that didn't have to punch a clock in the morning.

Ultimately I got home. Way later than planned. But I still watched the M's game (good one, too). And scrolled through autotrader.com to see what I'm looking at as a monetary hit if I need to buy a new-to-me used car; looks like maybe $5-8k. Really bad timing on that, given my giant HOA assessment hit this month.

Ironically, there was a particular CD in the car stereo. On my drive down I had been listening to The Beatles' Rubber Soul. Beatle fen will know what the first track on that album is. And, yes, I might be a star when it comes to the cast of rec league softball umps, but no, car thief, I will not, in fact, love you. Bastard.

UPDATE: Shortly after I posted this, the police phoned me to say they had recovered my car near Harborview Medical Center, not that far from where it was stolen. Apparently it had not had its plates removed and was "in driveable condition," though no word on whether or not it is damaged. It's being towed to an impound lot now and I can call the towing company tomorrow to arrange to reclaim it. Hopefully there's not a big fee attached to that.

Tagged Umping, Cars, The Beatles, Softball   |   Posted on May 6, 2023 at 12:41am   |   Permalink   |     |