Seeds of rage

You know as an umpire you're having a bad day when you throw Roger Clemens out of a game—his kid's Little League game.

Yup, some poor, hapless sap-of-an-umpire in Craig, Colo., tossed the future Hall of Famer out of a game last week when he accidentally thought Clemens was acting like a belligerent parent.

According to an Associated Press article, the ump thought Clemens spit a sunflower seed on him after Clemens' kid was called out on a play at second base, so he tossed the Rocket.

The next day, Clemens received an apology from league officials when they acknowledged the umpire tossed Clemens for no reason—an apparent case of mistaken identity.

I hate it when a Hall of Fame pitcher is watching me ump his kid's game and I accidentally confuse him with another parent.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Koufax. For a minute there, I thought you were Phil Suckalewski, that guy over there with the beer gut and sauerkraut hanging off his chin."

Boy, I thought it was stressful umpiring local Cal Ripken games for $4 an hour, but I've never had someone of Roger Clemens' stature watch me ump. However, I've experienced the dangers of getting into an argument with a man with a mouthful of sunflower seeds, and clearly this umpire did the right thing by tossing the seed spitter.

The dangers of being hit by a sunflower seed came into being when I was a youngster. About 15 or 20 years ago, someone —most likely a concerned parent —realized that having grown men who chew tobacco or "dip" snuff teaching your kid baseball skills might also inadvertently teach your kid that using tobacco products is OK.

So, baseball leagues around the country changed their rules and prohibited coaches from using tobacco.

A sensible policy was born, and we now have thousands of men (mainly men) around the country who are forced to chew on sunflower seeds whenever they are on league property. The result is an epidemic of seed spewing—and a public health and safety issue.

Having a conversation with someone who has a mouthful of sunflower seeds is difficult. They have trouble pronouncing certain letters, such as consonants and vowels.

Heated discussions are even worse. The umpire is inevitably (and unintentionally) pelted with seeds and shells. Imagine driving a motorcycle without a windshield through a sandstorm and you get the idea.

For those of you who are stupid enough to believe that umpires wear masks to avoid being hit in the face by a foul tip, think again.

It is simply to be protected from sunflower seeds during an argument.

Here's a sample conversation between me and a coach with a mouthful of sunflower seeds:

Coach: "Thaff fitch looffed thike a dike."

Me: "Dike? The nearest dike is the Hungry Horse Dam. Why did you call time-out to bring that up?"

Coach: "I thed, 'Thaff laff fitch lucked inthide the zike throne."

Me: "Look buddy, you can sit on a throne all day long for all I care, but it ain't gonna help your team. Also, you might want to remember to only use that pine tar in a well-ventilated area. Sets a bad example for the kids, you slurring your words like that."

After a conversation like this, the coach inevitably marches back to his dugout, shaking his head in disgust as if I didn't go out of my way to attempt to address his concerns, while I take out a squeegee and wipe off my mask.

Although I'm in favor of coaches using sunflower seeds instead of tobacco, I urge league officials everywhere to consider that flying sunflower seeds and husks can put an eye out. The salted and barbecue ones, especially, can cause burning and itching if left untreated.

That's why I feel bad for that ump who tossed Clemens out. He probably was blinded by the husk, fell dazed to the ground, and when he looked up, he saw the Rocket sitting on a grassy knoll with a mouthful of seeds.

Now if an ordinary man can spit a sunflower shell six paces at a speed of about 22 mph, you gotta figure a guy named "The Rocket" can kill a squirrel at 50 feet, easily. Clearly, this umpire's well-being—and possibly his life—was at stake.

Blinded by seeds and rage, he probably did the only thing a defenseless 22-year-old umpire could do—he tossed the future Hall of Famer. I'm just glad for my sake there aren't any Hall of Famers hanging around the Sapa/Johnsrud fields.

They probably chew the jalapeno-flavored seeds just to intimidate you.