The Umpire is Out: Calling the Game and Living My True Self by Dale Scott (review)

Abstract

Reviewed by: The Umpire is Out: Calling the Game and Living My True Self by Dale Scott Tim Wiles Dale Scott with Rob Neyer. The Umpire is Out: Calling the Game and Living My True Self. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2022. 275 pp. Cloth, $34.95. Nutcutter, polebender, banger, wacker, honeymoon series, strapping it on, and working the stick. Shit series, cockshot, caught the edge, shithouse. Dale Scott's autobiography begins with an entertaining chapter that functions as a preparatory glossary for the rest of the book, which is told in a breezy, entertaining way as though the author is seated with you in a restaurant booth telling (mostly) baseball stories. It is entertaining and readable while also giving you an authentic and revealing tour of life as a major league umpire and as a closeted (until 2014) gay man in American sports. Dale Scott is the first major league umpire to come out as gay during his career and one of only two MLB on-field figures to do so—the other being Billy Bean, who contributes a poignant foreword to this book. Scott gets right to the subject of being gay, mentioning it on page two. Overall, however, this reviewer found the book to be more of a baseball book that a gay memoir. It is both, but Scott and Neyer focus on the game and its rules, personalities, and the details of an umpire's life much more than on Scott's personal life. The book follows the standard chronological structure of an autobiographical memoir. It begins with a chapter about his family and youth in Eugene, Oregon including his early professional development as a local sports official and radio disc jockey. We have umpire school, the minors, winter ball in the Dominican Republic, and his relatively swift rise to the American major leagues. Without ever bogging down in technical detail, the book offers a great glimpse into the hows and whys of umpiring, as in this passage from umpire school, which Scott attended after five years of local umpiring: [End Page 122] Once I got there, I realized I knew nothing. It's so detailed and specific. You're taught everything known to man about the two-man system. You learn to communicate, really communicate, with your partner. You're taught not only the rules inside and out but also why the rule is in the book. In many instances that will help you understand how, coupled with good judgment and common sense, you enforce rules either by the letter of the law or within the context of how the game is played. (26) We keep learning new lingo throughout the book, such as the "mechanic," an umpire's style of physically calling a strike. We learn that "work" and "working" are used to describe umpiring the plate for a given pitcher, such as Jack Morris or Nolan Ryan. In the case of Morris, we learn that he practices "surveying," the process of staring down umpires when he questions their pitch calls. We learn about "umpire slumps," "umpire luck," and the Priesmeyer trunk, an interesting, huge piece of luggage that is as unique as Delaware River mud but not as widely celebrated. We also learn about physical dynamics of umpiring, such as "the wedge," which Scott describes in an excellent description of the amazing fifteen-inning Game Two of the 1995 Yankees-Mariners playoff series: Think of the . . . shape of a triangle. The path of the runner and the flight of the ball represent two sides of the wedge. Using the wedge puts me between those two lines and in position to have a clear view of the point of the triangle, where the tag will be applied." Scott goes on to say that he can't remain stationary, but has to read the throw and adjust, "Staying on (the catcher's) glove-side hip and maintaining my view. (141) This detailed description is fascinating, but the book does not journey into such dynamics often—it's a portrait of umpiring, not a manual. There are insightful analyses of the Derek Jeter–Jeffrey Maier home run call in the 1996 playoffs, the Roberto Alomar...