In the summer of 1967, at the young age of 16, I had completed three years of delightful Babe Ruth League play in Dunkirk. Umpiring seemed like an easy way to earn some income while still being around baseball fields. That spring, I played first base for the Cardinal Mindszenty High School Monarchs as a light-hitting but good-fielding sophomore. On weekends, I was a rookie substitute infielder for the Sheridan Pablos in the old Grape Belt League.

Going Back in Time to Veterans Field

Weather had led to the postponement of several Babe Ruth games that season. To address the situation, two regular season games were scheduled simultaneously. As a rookie umpire, I was assigned to home plate, knowing that if I made a mistake, there was a fully certified umpire working on the adjacent field. Everything was going smoothly until a batter swung at a pitch as a runner on first base tried to steal second base. The catcher for the defense that day was the all-time great Dunkirk player, Dave Criscione. When the batter swung, the ball tipped into Dave's glove.Dave quickly threw the ball to second base, easily erasing the runner who was foolishly attempting to steal. The play was so straightforward that it showed just how good Dave's right arm was. However, I had called "foul ball," killing the play and sending the lucky runner back to first base. I had rarely seen a catcher catch a foul-tipped ball, let alone one with the skill to then react in time to prevent a base stealer. In town, no one else could have made that play.Criscione, a baseball-savvy individual, was not happy with my foul ball call and immediately confronted me. I defended my decision, but knowing him as I did, I was quite sure he had a strong case against me. Play stopped as the defense officially filed a protest. The word was quickly passed to the umpire in charge on the Babe Ruth League field, and he confirmed Dave's version of the rule. According to the rule book, the ball remains alive when a foul-tip settles into a catcher's hand or glove, and Dave was within his rights to prevent the base runner. All I could do was apologize for my regrettable decision and promise to do better.As a result, the next spring, I signed up for a junior umpires' rules class. I studied hard and passed it with great success. Over the next 50-plus years, I never lost a single protest in baseball or softball. There were indeed a couple of incidents, but embarrassment truly is a great motivator.•••Do you have a favorite, funny, weird, best, or worst memory of amateur sports refereeing, playing, or spectating? Drop me a line at mandpp@hotmail.com and let's reminisce. Bill Hammond is a former EVENING OBSERVER sports editor.