GLASGOW — The field umpire had a story he promised would “blow me away.”

With lightning slithering in the sky above us, myself and one of the umpires helming the 12U West District state tournament championship game between Barren County and Jeffersontown on Monday stood with our fingers curled around the metal, chain-link-fence backstop talking about the dangers of electric storms.

The story went terrifyingly like this:

The umpire was working a youth game a few years ago when a small spark of lightning lit in the distance. When one of the competing teams’ coaches noticed the flash, he (the coach) frantically screamed for his players to vacate the field and ordered parents to their cars. Confused and a little shown up, considering the decision to delay the game was his and his alone, the umpire confronted the coach.

“I don’t care if you disqualify us,” the coach said to the umpire. “But I watched my best friend die from a lightning strike, and so whenever I see a storm coming, I don’t take any chances. Kick us out if you want.”

“Blows your mind, doesn’t it?” the umpire said, finishing his story with an almost-proud head nod.

I let go of the fence.



That my imminent death lurked with each lightning flash wasn’t the only nugget o’ fact I picked up during and after the hour and half rain delay at the 12U tournament on the campus of St. Xavier High School. Other stray lessons abounded.

1.) In Louisville, if you’re careful, you can apparently drink beer at a youth baseball facility housed on Catholic school property. After finishing a coke bought from the concession stand, I tossed my cup in a nearby trash can and saw something interesting laying atop the heap: mixed in with freshly discarded nacho plates was about a 12-pack’s worth of crushed Miller Lite cans.

I checked the concession stand menu. Nothing. I surveyed the crowd of parents and fans milling under a nearby gazebo. No one was handing out drinks and, unless I really missed something, no patron was singing “16 Tons” under his breath while openly urinating in the rain. This means either a really thirsty fan with a high booze tolerance lurked amongst us or it’s a common practice in Louisville to tailgate your 12 year-old son’s Cal Ripken baseball game.

2.) The rectangle-shaped pizza forced upon me by elementary school lunch ladies still exists. I ordered a slice of pizza at the concession stand and instead of the expected Papa John’s, Dominos, etc., I was handed a cherished memory of that bout of food poisoning I barely survived when I was eight.

3.) Barren County first baseman Stone Hammer does not need a nickname. To coincide with a Jeffersontown player/David Ortiz, some Trojan fans attempted to assign the nickname “Big Poppy” to Hammer. What these fans didn’t consider, though, is that Hammer already possesses the coolest name on the planet.

With a name like Stone Hammer, he could easily become an action-movie star, president, Highland Games contender or, if he continues on his current path, Major League Baseball star. Only a career in interior design could allude him.

4.) That, during the course of a mostly routine and sometimes boring life, interesting and truly special things are sometimes glossed over. The aforementioned umpire, who mingled freely and friendly with fans and parents during the rain delay — a man who, it should be noted strictly for humor purposes, told me he sold “lady’s garments” to a couple of business owners in Glasgow 20 years prior — probably never thought he’d need a post-second-game police escort to protect him from the same fans with whom he so recently mingled. According to tournament director Mark Lindsay, the umpire requested police assistance after feeling threatened by Jeffersontown’s fans.

“It isn’t something that normally happens. He did some district games the week before, and said he wanted some police there or he wasn’t coming back,” Lindsay said. “I actually think he went a little overboard. I was standing there the whole time and I didn’t feel it was warranted.”

When I told Lindsay I’d never seen a child’s baseball game end in law enforcement intervention, he agreed.

“I hadn’t either,” he said, laughing. “I’ve been (commissioner) for five years and I’ve coached down here for 21.”

Simply through paranoia, the umpire had mildly blown Lindsay away and maybe even provided the commissioner a story to tell during the next electric storm.

As troopers ushered the garment salesman off the field, the Barren County 12U team received trophies for their second place finish. A year ago, essentially the same squad prevailed as 11U state champions, and on Monday, the team came within three runs of being part of a veritable dynasty. I’m sure, as they accepted the awards, their minds never landed on the fact they had achieved something most athletes never do.

And if they had .... well, talk about mind blowing.

Jon Webb is the sports editor for the Glasgow Daily Times. He can be reached at jwebb (at) glasgowdailytimes.com