Scorecard

Major League Umps
Tangled Up in Blue

There's a baseball adage that says umpiring is the only profession in which a man must be perfect on Opening Day and improve as the season goes on. It's hyperbole, of course: After watching them work this year, who could possibly hold umpires to such high standards? We'd settle for their being adequate at the start and not getting any worse. The buzz brought on by this giddy season has too often been tempered by head-splitting cases of the men-in-blue blues. If a well-called game is one after which nobody remembers who called it, let's just say we've been getting to know way too many umpires.

Players and managers know it—more of them have been ejected this year than in any season since the strike. And curious calls have become an almost nightly feature on your favorite highlight show. There was, of course, Bruce Davidson's courageous—if highly debatable—fan-interference call in Milwaukee on Sept. 20 that turned what had appeared to be Mark McGwire's 66th home run into a double; thankfully, Big Mac went on to render that controversy spectacularly moot That same day at Wrigley Field the Cincinnati Reds' Bret Boone sheepishly toured the bases after veteran ump Harry Wendelstedt called his drive down the leftfield line a homer, much to the amazement even of Boone, who, upon seeing the ball curve foul, had turned back toward the batter's box for another hack.

On Aug. 4 Baltimore Orioles starter Mike Mussina retired the first 23 Detroit Tigers he faced. Mussina probably needed no help against the hapless Tigers, but afterward he admitted that his flirtation with a perfect game vas abetted by plate umpire John Hirschbeck's overly generous strike zone.

The list of egregious calls goes m. Granted, working a major league game in front of two Weaveresque managers and 30,000 Ueckeresque, he-missed-the-tag fans is an arduous task. Umps are entitled to the occasional mistake. But what's most troubling is that they seem to have forgotten their mortality. Surpassing the butchered calls in shock value are the arrogance that often accompanies them and the suspicion that umpires have come to believe they're bigger than the game. Even though replays clearly showed he blew the call on Boone, Wendelstedt insisted that he "saw the ball clearly." Besides, Wendelstedt said, the decision was inconsequential because Boone's two-run blast, which gave the Reds a five-run, eighth-inning lead over the wild-card-chasing Cubs, "had nothing to do with the outcome of the game."

Such hubris seems to be institutional, as does a disregard for the rule book. "Every umpire has his own strike zone," said American League umpiring supervisor Marty Springstead in defending Hirschbeck's performance. Then, in a logical somersault of which President Clinton would be proud, he added, "Strike zones are a very hard thing to define."

Two years ago, in the wake of me Roberto Alomar spitting incident, umpires rightfully demanded more respect from players and fans. But like a .220 hitter who's bound for the bench, they deserve to be held accountable. It's sad that as the playoffs—the cherry on top of this ice-cream sundae of a season—begin, it's clear there are three teams on the field, not two, that will have a say in who wins the games.

Sydney Prepares
Olympic Rubber Match

The Ansell company of Melbourne, Australia, the official condom supplier for the 2000 Olympic Games, has received a request from the Sydney organizing committee for 51 condoms per athlete—or, with the Games lasting 17 days, three condoms per athlete per day. To the Olympic motto, "Swifter, higher, stronger," must we now add "more often?"

Louisville Basketball
More Trouble For Crum