Johan was up next. Moose indicated that he should take the first pitch. He’d made that part of his strategy to settle the hitters into the game by letting them see a pitch first. This also raised the pitch count of the opposing hurler. High school pitchers weren’t noted for having great stamina, and we wanted to get into their relievers in the later innings.
Of course, after we got our feet wet batting, Moose would cut us loose, hitting-wise. There was no need to get behind in the count if you had a good pitch to hit. He treated the Lang Academy game more as a practice game than anything else. This was the first time this season we’d faced anyone other than ourselves, so it provided valuable experience for the team.
When the umpire called the first pitch a ball, a commotion arose along the first base line. Three men jumped the fence and ran for home. Out of nowhere, Manaia and Fritz were on each side of me, pushing me out of the dugout and down the third base line, away from the problem. I felt like the president when shots were fired.
The three men began to pummel the umpire as I watched in disbelief. I knew that parents often were the worst fans, but I’d never seen them jump a fence to beat the crap out of the guy calling the game. I guess I understood why the coaches stayed focused on getting the teams off the field. But I couldn’t comprehend why the other umpires stood back and let their colleague get punched repeatedly.
“Either you go break that up, or I will,” I told my security.
Manaia, Fritz, and Coach Hope all reached the three parents at about the same time. The three of them made short work of the parents. I followed right behind them and grabbed the umpire when he tried to kick one of the parents in the head while Fritz held him in an arm bar.
“Bad idea,” I said as I wrapped him around the waist and pulled him back.
I ended up having to put him down when he thought I was an attacker and took a swing at me. Just then, our local police showed up. I’m sure no one expected that they would have to worry about a father jumping the fence to start a fight. The police were stationed in the parking and entrance areas to help people get in and out.
What followed can only be described as pure insanity. Lang Academy simply loaded their team on the bus and forfeited the game. Then the umpire informed us that I was out of the game for touching him. I wanted to get mad, but both Moose and Coach Haskins lost their minds at the idiocy of what had just happened.
“He kept you from kicking a defenseless man!” Moose bellowed.
“I don’t care. The rules state you can’t touch an umpire!”
Similarly constructive comments were made when the umpire announced that we would have to forfeit the game for unsportsmanlike conduct.
“You can’t do that! Lang Academy has already forfeited!” Coach Haskins screamed.
“I can do whatever the hell I want to do! You’re both ejected!”
“You can’t eject us; the game is already over!” Moose responded.
The team was all sitting on the bench watching this train wreck unfold. Reality TV had nothing on a Lincoln High baseball game.
“Someone go get us some popcorn,” I suggested, which made my teammates all laugh.
If we were going to watch a show, we might as well do it in style.
“Let me get this straight. Lang Academy forfeited, you ejected David because he prevented you from going to jail …” Moose said.
“I’m about to come down there and touch you,” Mom yelled from the stands.
That got EVERYONE’S attention. If you got my mom started, watch out.
I think the umpire realized he had better back down, or he’d be in for a second butt-whupping. Personally, I would rather face three men wanting to punch me than my mom’s tongue when she got started. And she looked to be about to go into full mama-bear mode. He threw up his hands and made a hasty retreat.
I had a suspicion that he wouldn’t be invited back to umpire any of our games moving forward.
Here I figured I was done for the night when Manaia pointed at Scarlet. She waited at the end of the bench with a stack of baseball photos and a Sharpie for me to sign autographs. I must have blocked that responsibility out as a bad dream. I sucked it up and accommodated our fans. The line moved quickly because my mom was standing three rows back with her foot tapping and arms crossed, a clear sign of ‘hurry the frick up or die.’ Everyone hurried.
◊◊◊
Lisa Felton was waiting for me when I got out of the locker room.
“Take me to dinner.”
I spotted my parents, and my mom was still fuming. I made the executive decision that I would rather spend time with Lisa than go home. Dad could deal with my mom when she was in one of these moods way better than I ever did. She and I would be verbally sparring before we even got to the house.
I had a momentary worry about my dad’s heart condition, but figured it was every man for himself tonight.
