Parents can take the fun out of any game. I was a volunteer Little League umpire some years ago. After a particularly difficult game, I wrote this:
The Ump (Say Blue)
The Ump's the one you love to hate.
The one who stands behind the plate.
The one who stands behind the bag.
The who clearly missed the tag.
The one who called the batter out.
The one that makes The Game a bout.
Call's 'em wrong, most every play.
No matter what you do or say.
Must be blind, or need the cure.
Don't know The Book, that's for sure.
Too bad, there's two teams to The Game.
Then, every call could be the same.
We could walk every runner, call them all safe.
Everyone would be happy. No one left to chafe.
We could vote on the close calls, with a show of hands.
Maybe, then we'd get more umps out of the stands.
Remember, the ump is like you or me.
But, they've volunteered for this abuse you see.
They're not really blind, on drugs, or lame.
They're just CRAZY.
'Bout The Kids.
'Bout The Game.
The same holds for coaches. Bless 'em.
Excellent poem!