f you’re among the vast majority of umpires, by the time you go to a “national” clinic you’ve already worked several seasons. Along the way you’ve been involved in a localized learning process, perhaps mentored by your home town’s version of a Carl or a Smitty. (Decide for yourself which is to your advantage).

Let’s be clear on an important point. Every leader of every local umpire group deserves both respect and admiration. Without those people we’d have far fewer umpires. It’s the home town guy who gets almost every umpire through that pivotal first season, explaining what to wear, where to stand, how to react, and how to survive. I recall, with varying degrees of fondness, the two early influentials in my career.

Mr. Peter DeFrancisca assigned umpires in the Wheeling, Ill., Little League program in 1965, my rookie season. I was a no-field, no-hit 13-year-old player, big for my age even then, but I quickly found I could umpire. During the course of my 17-game season (actually during the course of my first seven innings) I fell in love with the job. Without Mr. D’s help I may never have discovered the passion that has evolved and grown for nearly 36 years. It’s been the most enduring constant in my life, and it’s been key to my profession since 1986 — the fact that Mr. D’s son worked a bit more than 160 games that year not withstanding.

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