A story about confidence, mistakes, and refusing to carrying it alone – from 23 years behind the plate.
???? I’ve Been Behind the Plate for 23 Years
I’ve been umpiring for 23 years. Hundreds of hours every year on the field, behind the plate, in the rulebook, watching videos, teaching clinics, making the calls no one else wants to make.
People see you on the field for a few hours a week. What they don’t see are the hours in the classroom, the late nights studying the rulebook, the years of practice to get one judgment right in a split second.
And still — people feel entitled to tear you apart. They somehow think they know you through those moments in your long gray polyester pants, dark shirt in the 100°F heat, and fashion-forward steel-toed plate shoes. They assume they know who you are and what you stand for. I’ve heard things yelled at me from the folks in the stands that would make their parents cringe if they knew they spoke to people that way.
Earlier this year, a Little League coach called me a “piece of trash” in front of the players on the field because he disagreed with the final out call that I made—in a game his team was losing 6–0. I’ve been told I “crushed a child’s dreams,” that I “should go back to the kitchen where women belong,” and so many other despicable things I wouldn’t repeat here. Just last week, a parent told one of my crew members he was “an embarrassment” and that he’d missed the “mother [expletive] call.” {And yet, there were no mothers on the field at the time. ????}
⚾️ Why Do I Keep Showing Up?
People ask me all the time: Why do you keep doing it? Why volunteer for this?
Because my crew has my back. When the bleachers get ugly, I know I’m not standing alone. The people who step on the field with me (both literally and figuratively) — many for over a decade — aren’t just volunteers. They’re warriors who train, study, and stand up for each other.
But that’s not the whole story.
❤️ The Why Most People Don’t See
The truth is: we do it because we care — more than most people will ever know.
We care enough to stand where it’s uncomfortable, to put ourselves in harm’s way from every angle so the game can be as fair as possible for these kids.
We care enough to do the hours of work no one sees — and then talk after the game about what we missed, how we could get better, how to make it clearer next time.
We care enough to encourage the kid who’s down. To remind them there’s more to this game and more to life than one bad swing or one missed pitch.
Like Teddy Roosevelt said: “It is not the critic who counts… The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.”
We are in the arena. And we do it because we care.
????THE LEADERSHIP MIRROR
We say we want confident leaders — those willing to make the tough calls when it counts.
But we don’t talk enough about what really builds that confidence:
✅ The unseen hours of preparation.
✅ The courage to decide in real time.
✅ And maybe most of all — the crew who stand with you when the critics come out.
Let’s be honest:
You’ve probably been there. You made the tough decision at work. You called the play, made the choices when no one else would. And the second it didn’t work out, the “bleachers” showed up — the gossip, the second-guessing, the back-channel blame.
And just like that, you were carrying it alone.
???? WHAT YOU NEED TO ASK
Leadership confidence doesn’t grow in a vacuum.
It grows when you train for judgment and trust.
When you know someone’s got your back when you miss a call.
When the emotional weight of the decision is shared — so you don’t burn out ‘behind the plate.’
So ask yourself:
- Where are you showing up alone when you shouldn’t be?
- Where are you letting the ‘bleachers’ dictate your actions and level of courage?
- And who’s really behind you when the game’s on the line?
????️ Final Reflection
Anyone can judge from the stands.
Anyone can replay the moment in super slow motion and tell you what you should’ve done.
But,
- Only a few step onto the field and behind the plate.
- Only a few decide in real time, own it, and come back the next day ready to do it again.
- Only a few have the courage to stand there — bruised ego, tough crowd, full heart — and do it again next game.
Don’t carry it alone.
