I’m gonna talk about sports for just a second, mmkay? I know, this is a baby blog. I’m not supposed to talk about sports.  If you wanted to talk x’s and o’s you could talk to your husbands.  But, well, even though I find major league baseball about as entertaining as cleaning my base boards, it’s my blog and with a high school football coach as a husband sports are a big part of my life, so I’m gonna go there and talk sports. 

Did you all hear about the pitcher from the Detroit Tigers who wasthiseffingclose to throwing a perfect game, only have a batter called safe when in fact the ball beat the foot to the bag?  No?  OK, well then go read the article and then come back. 

So, Armando Galarraga, is within inches of achieving one of the biggest accomplishments of his professional career.  And then Jim Joyce makes the wrong call at first base and costs the pitcher his perfect game.  That’s bad, right?  Really bad.  And the perfect opportunity for a shit storm from Galarraga, his team, his coach and fans.  They could have bashed him in the media and would have gotten away with it.  They could have thrown temper tantrums for weeks over the missed chance to be in the record books.  To have THAT FEELING of accomplishing something so monumental ripped from their grasp. 

But they didn’t.  Joyce, the umpire, immediately and sincerely apologized when he realized his mistake.  Galarraga and his team accepted and provided Joyce with support in the following days.  And they moved on. 

It was a perfect display of sportsmanship. 

I go to a lot of football games.  I sit in the stands with parents and fans and my dad.  More times than not one side of the field is complaining about the call on the field.  I’ve done it too. I’ve yelled “Are you BLIND” with the rest of them.  You can’t possibly understand how they missed an illegial block or didn’t call pass interference (are ya’ll impressed with my use of football terms?)   Their calls can mean the difference between a touchdown and field goal.  Can cost a game.  Can impact a season. 

But when we start constantly blaming and badgering officials, it burns my ass a little.  Maybe it’s because it’s just a game.  Maybe because it’s part of life.  You practice hard and you do everything right and the call still doesn’t go your way.  And so you man up, and you go back to the line of scrimmage and you go again.  You don’t stand up and stomp your feet and yell.  You don’t kick the sand and walk off the field saying “we would have won that game if it wasn’t for the officials.” In doing so, you’re forgetting about all the passes you dropped, all the blocks you missed and the quarterback who was just quicker than your secondary. (Seriously, I’m killing myself with these football terms.  Craig would be so proud.  Or not.  Because I might not be using them right.) 

The situation I referred to earlier is a perfect teachable moment for athletes and coaches everywhere.  Sometimes the call doesn’t go your way.  Sometimes you miss an opportunity because of it.  But you get up, you move on and you go again. 

Now, maybe if more officials admitted their mistakes there could also be world peace?