Do Your Job!

You see the ump looking right at the tag?

Two feet.

He called the Tigers' player safe.

And it's all right, I suppose. Yankees can't buy a hit anyway and the Captain went down, but what frosts my ass is something that aggravates me every day.

Do your job.

If your job is to make ice cream cones at the local diner try and make the best one possible every time.

If you are dumping garbage and a little stray garbage gets loose, bend over and pick it up.

If you are solely responsible for making an out-safe call at a base in an area where you can see it clearly:

Call if right for God's sake!

And yeah, I invest a lot of time in the Yankees and what-the-frig-ever.

Yet you see it on a day-by-day basis in real life. I remember interviewing a guy about giving him a job one time. You know what his first question was?

"How much vacation time do I get?"

"You can have all the days off," I answered.

And all right, we all make mistakes, right?

But that ump will hide behind his protection until the day he dies.

"It was too close to call with the naked eye," he'll say.

Really?

We can train a monkey to make that call.

If you screw something up, stand up and take it like a man.

That's it.

That's all.

I'm done talking baseball.