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Quantum mechanics. Tax forms. Michael Jackson.
These are just a few of many things I don't understand in this world. But we can add another to the list: coach-umpire arguments.
When head coach Dave Taylor was suspended for three games in March for allegedly making physical contact with an umpire, I wrote arguing calls "has become a part of the sport - such as fighting in hockey."
While not as extreme as hockey fighting, irate baseball coaches are in every level of baseball, from T-ball to the majors.
It's become so common an informal protocol has developed.
Step one: Turn your hat backward so you can get as close to the ump's face as possible. The effectiveness of screaming is directly proportional to distance, thus screaming one-half inch from an umpire's face is exponentially more forceful than from 4 inches. Eat onions or Limburger cheese beforehand for maximum offense.
Step two: Place your hands in your back pockets. You can say whatever you want but touching the ump isn't allowed. Appearing to cop a feel on yourself sends a clear message: "I may say I want to rip off your head and spit down your neck … but I couldn't possibly do it with my hands in my pockets."
Step three: Kick dust. Nothing is more embarrassing for an umpire than wearing dirty pants. Nothing.
But why is the "I'm-so-mad I'm-going-to-either-kill-this umpire-or-have-an-aneurism" routine such an ingrained part of the sport?
It's pretty clear nothing good ever comes from these altercations. It may make a coach feel tough, but how many calls have been reversed because of a tantrum?
Umpires are the ultimate authority on the field so they shouldn't be intimidated by coaches.
If they were, you might see this: It's Sunday, and Kyle Woodruff strikes out the last batter to end the game and clench a playoff berth for the 'Cats. The Cal State San Bernardino coach argues the called strike, kicking dust. The umpire reverses his decision and calls it a ball. Taylor argues with hands in pockets. The umpire reverses the reversal … and so on. The fans leave the stadium six hours later, disappointed and a little confused.
It sounds far-fetched, but in some ways this baseball dystopia isn't completely off base.
For now I'll just ignore the potential ramifications of coaching meltdowns and view them the same way I do the Sumo-suit races in the seventh inning stretch - a goofy, if not slightly amusing, distraction from the game.
Ryan can be reached at sportseditor@theorion.com
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