Of course, baseball umpires actually wear gray. Only their gear is black. But if there was ever an unsung hero of America’s pastime, it’s the "ump." The very word in any conversation brings up expletive-filled recollections from a big game. No one remembers the good calls, but they sure as heck remember what they thought were bad ones—especially if it went against them.
However, one thing you learn by talking with an umpire is that these guys don’t want to make a difference as the judge of who wins or loses a game. Indeed, their goal is quite the contrary. "The best game you can call is when no one realizes you were even there," says David Gray, who knows all to well what it is to be a game official. His experience as an umpire with Little League and high school baseball spans nearly a quarter century.
The man behind the plate is often pictured as a crusty old guy with a booming voice and comparable demeanor. Mr. Gray is anything but, though you might see him as a cross between Rip Torn and Tommy Lee Jones. Yep, he’s a character who easily makes you smile, if not laugh outright. What’s more, and if you’re not careful, you’ll learn a lot about baseball— even if you think you know it all.
When asked how he began as an umpire, he gets a twinkle in his eye along with a Cheshire cat grin. "I watched a guy make a call–a good one— and he let a coach intimidate him into reversing it. Right then, I wanted to be an umpire because nobody’s gonna intimidate me." That was twenty some odd years ago.
No doubt a few have tried since then. Perhaps they didn’t know that David Gray is an attorney, though now semi-retired from his law practice. Not to mention he served as a JAG officer in the United States Army. Both his resume and umpire credentials are equally weighted. Individually, each could easily exceed the word count of this article. You should also know that he has been selected as one of 16 umpires worldwide to officiate at this year’s LL World Series (twelve year olds) in August–nor is the first time he has been selected for a Little League World Series.
Most impressive, however, is his genuine love of the game. Certainly he has some interesting stories about officiating games. But if you listen closely, you find his stories all center around the kids. And, too, he likes Bellaire Little League. "It’s a fun league, and it works on good sportsmanship," he says, adding, "Not all of ’em in this area do that."
What makes being an umpire fun for Mr. Gray is that he has seen so many kids play from the peewee’s to high school and onto college. He can even cite more than a few that have gone pro. Names any fan of the modern game will know come up during the conversation, including Pettit, Cruz, Beckett, Wunch, and Everett.
In fact, Enrique Cruz is the spark for one particular story. Gray was short one official during a Little League game–one in which young Cruz happened to be playing. He spotted the boy’s father, one Jose Cruz, and asked him to help as a field umpire. Chuckling, Gray observes that Jose Cruz was a great player, but a lousy ump. "He called his own son out when the kid actually beat a throw to the bag by a step and a half," Gray says.
After the game, Gray says the elder Cruz came up to him and said, "This isn’t as easy as it looks!" Cruz also told Gray that he’d never argue with an umpire again. And to his knowledge, Cruz never did. Evidently, that story is also a continued source of some consternation among the Cruz family at holiday meals and gatherings.
When behind the plate, David Gray makes no bones about the fact that he prefers a good catcher— for obvious reasons. But what he loves is seeing a good pitcher. One he remembers from a high school ball game about five years ago. Bellaire was playing Pearland. When a batter for Pearland realized the Cardinal pitcher was a girl, with a tip-off from Gray, the macho came out. As Gray tells the story, he gets a twinkle in his eye and a devilish grin. "She’d pitch just a hair outside and the batter would swing— every time." Apparently, she took several of the boys to clinic.
Gray can tell you a hundred stories that are just as interesting and unusual. Some are Little League, others are high school ball, and still others are college ball. And what you figure out is this guy has to have the mental capacity of a next-generation computer processor. Rules change between each league and division. One day you’re calling a pony league game and the next day, or even the same day, you’re officiating at a high school game. "You have to keep your wits about you, "Gray says, adding, "but what you find out is that no matter how well you know the rules, you learn every game."
One piece of advice he offers is this, "Ninety-nine percent of games are lost, not won." Runners forget to tag the plate at home, or even a bag at one of the bases, about which he has more than a few interesting stories. Errors decide the fate of teams; the umpires just point them out. And, in doing so, Gray says an umpire is only as good as his last call.
He refers to an occasion where he was in an airport where a gentleman approached him. The short of it is that the man was the dad of kid Gray had called out in a game twenty years ago. "I never saw that one coming," Grays says, shaking his head.
On the other hand, a lot of players fondly remember David Gray. Abe Arguello, who now coaches a team for Pin Oak Middle School (see related story), immediately lights up at the mention of Gray. "Dos y dos!" Arguello says. "That’s his trade mark, when it’s two balls and two strikes, he holds up the count and yells ‘Dos y dos!" He also says Gray always seems to remember players by name whenever he sees them. And he never fails to ask about other kids a player might have known. "The man is something," Arguello says.
With David Gray during the interview is his wife, Gretchen. She is a former teacher at Bellaire High School, having retired due to illness. Her zeal and passion for the game matches her husband’s. In fact, a heady debate breaks out over who is the best ball player ever in the game, as well as whether Pete Rose should be inducted into the Hall of Fame.
Equally active in area games, Gretchen’s role has been in the shack–that is she often runs the scoreboards. Indeed, there’s even a rule named after her, it’s called the "Gretchen ‘Diva’ Rule." Umpires are now required to hold up the count, clearly and demonstrably, so that the scorekeepers can accurately display the status.
Side by side, the Grays have been involved in Little League and area baseball since 1979. Their son and daughter, by the way, are both lawyers. Somehow, they have found the time for David Gray to travel all over the state, as well as the country, to call playoff and championships games. Through it all, he’ has never accepted a dime for his time or his travel. And, with the exception of tournament hats or shirts, he has paid for his own uniforms and equipment. On average, he calls 130 games per year, racking up an astonishing total in excess of 3,000 games over twenty years. It has given David and Gretchen Gray the deepest of wells from which to draw story after story.
That alone is enough to keep you glued to your seat, and why drawing the Gray interview to a close was such a drag. Every tale was funnier and more telling than the last. So it seems only appropriate to leave you with the same trivia question they used in closing.
There are two inductees in the Baseball Hall of Fame whom neither ever directly participated in the game in anyway–playing, coaching, nor managing. Who are they?
