How Umpires Work

"If you're liked by the coaches and players, you had it made. You had to do a good job to be liked. If they didn't like you, you might have been in for a hard time." Uncle Gil rarely had a hard time when he reminisced about his life calling balls and strikes to a local newspaper reporter nearly 40 years ago. For decades, Gil Lee umpired many a game in a grimy, upstate New York burg.

To me, Uncle Gil was always the quintessential baseball warrior, marching off to combat with a king-sized chest protector and steel mask, ready to battle those who would sully the purity of the game with things like spitballs (when the pitcher puts a foreign substance on the ball, like spit) and phantom tags (when the umpire mistakenly thinks a fielder tagged a runner). I learned many things about the game from Uncle Gil, although I refused to follow him behind the plate. (I got enough grief at home and school.) The main thing he taught me is that if an umpire doesn't love the game, he wouldn't do a good job. (Note: There weren't any female umpires in Uncle Gil's day, but women can apply to umpire school. As of July 2013, the major leagues still hadn't seen a female umpire officiate a game though.)

Umpires came to baseball seemingly as an afterthought in the 19th century. Their main task was to make sure that teams didn't cheat. Back in the day, a baseball team was only as good as how well its players swindled their opponents. Fielders often pushed runners off base then tagged them out. Runners ran straight from first to third without touching second base. The umps put a stop to such tomfoolery. The methodical cheating subsided, and the umpires remained. One umpire — chosen by the home team — morphed into three by the 1930s. Today's regular-season, big league umpiring crews have four members [source: Keri].

As the official arbiters of the game, umpires have the following responsibilities:

All across the country, thousands of men and women umpire games from Little League to college. Those that want a whack at the big time have to stand tall and travel down a road often difficult to transverse.

Most major league umpires start out in the backwaters of the game, spending their summer evenings and weekends refereeing myriad youth, softball, high school and recreational leagues. The rules and steps for becoming an umpire are different for each rung on the ladder. Most leagues offer training courses. Would-be umpires join associations, which require the novice to become "certified," a needed designation if a person wants to umpire eventually at the highest levels [source: Vulcan].

As for Major League Baseball umpires, they have to attend school to learn their trade (really, they do). There are three schools for umpires in the United States, where prospective umps learn how to handle themselves in game situations. They study the rules, mechanics and even the philosophy of umpiring [source: Major League Baseball]. (I came up empty when I attempted to find whether Plato mentioned anything in his dialogues about calling balls and strikes.)

The top graduates — about 16 percent — ultimately find work in the minor leagues. Major League Baseball doesn't start considering hiring an umpire until he gets to Triple A, the pinnacle of the minors. That's because openings in "The Show" are few. There are 68 umpires in the majors and 225 in the minors. Most spend, on average, eight to 12 years in the low-paying minors before they earn their way to major leagues [source: Major League Baseball].

When "the call" comes, the umpire has to be ready. Sometimes they are, other times not so much.

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!"shouted someone on the stand; And its likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

When Ernest Lawrence Thayer wrote the immortal poem "Casey at the Bat" in 1888, he knew that baseball fans and players viewed the umpire with the utmost disdain. Still, "mighty Casey," was a magnanimous slugger who could silence a jeering crowd with a raised paw. These days, players aren't as noble. Like petulant children, they sometimes cry, stomp and even spit when an umpire rules against them.

Stories of such on-field histrionics are legion. One of the most vitriolic occurred in 1996 when Baltimore Oriole Roberto Alomar spat in the face of umpire John Hirschbeck after a called third strike. The incident did not keep Alomar out of the Hall of Fame, however (and it didn't stop the two men from eventually developing an unlikely friendship). In 2006, Tampa Bay prospect Delmon Young threw a bat at a minor league umpire, striking him in the arm. The league suspended Young for 50 games.

Then there's Kansas City Royal player George Brett crazily storming out of the dugout on July 23, 1983, after home plate ump Tim McClelland nullified a home run Brett had just hit against the New York Yankees. McClelland ruled, after some prodding by a wily Yankee manger named Billy Martin, that Brett used an illegal bat (too much pine tar, don't cha know.) Brett madly charged out of the Kansas City Royal dugout, arms flailing, eyes bulging, lips and tongue screaming hysterically. Days later, American League officials overturned McClelland's ruling, saying McClelland should never have called Brett out. Instead, McClelland should have tossed the bat.

All that grief is a lot for an umpire to deal with for only $120,000 a year, although senior umpires can make $350,000. Unlike ballplayers, major league umpires aren't exactly pampered. While the players fly on charter jets paid for by the teams, umpires take commercial flights when traveling. While major leaguers make hundreds of thousands a game, sometimes for doing nothing (read: A Rod and many others), umpires receive an estimated $340 a day for expenses, such as hotels, rental cars, food and tips [source: O'Connell].

You would think such a lack of respect would force most major league umpires to call it quits after a year or three. It's a long season, after all, starting in early March with spring training, and ending for some in November after the World Series wraps up. Yet, turnover is so low that there's usually one job opening a year [source: O'Connell].

It's a lonely job, umpiring. Yet, umps are always trying to better themselves. They study video of hitters and pitchers. They also regularly review their calls. And despite their dismal reputations -- "I've never questioned the integrity of an umpire. Their eyesight, yes," Leo Durocher quipped -- the accuracy rates for major league umps are astounding -- 97 percent for calling balls and strikes and 99 percent in the field [source: O'Connell]. Consider that a baseball player is considered a standout if he hits .300. That means they only have to do their job correctly 30 percent of the time. If you or I did that, we'd be fired.

Still, some very bad calls in recent years have many people wondering whether umpires need help, such as instant replay. It's a controversial topic.

"I'm an old-school guy ... " Cincinnati manager Dusty Baker told MLB.com. " ... If they could come up with something that would show a proper angle and do it in a very short period of time, I'd be for it."

Many, however, balk at the idea. "They're going to get some right. They're going to get some wrong," Pittsburgh Pirate catcher Michael McKenry said of the umpires. "That's just part of it. Nobody is perfect at the end of the day" [source: Singer].

Play ball!