April 15, 1998

The Umpires: Zoned out - or on the ball?

By Pete Williams
USA Today Baseball Weekly

As National League umpire Eric Gregg's strike zone appeared to grow wider and wider during Game Five of the NL Championship Series last October, it raised serious questions that rake at the core of the tumultuous relationship between players and umpires.

Shouldn't all umpires have the same strike zone? Why is the zone open for interpretation at all? On the other hand, does it matter what an umpire calls a strike so long as he calls it consistently for both sides and remains open to civilized, on-field discussion?

And finally, is there any accountability for umpires who are poor performers?

The Braves, who lost Game Five, bitterly complained about Gregg's massive strike zone, striking out an NLCS-record 15 times, including six times on called strikes. Afterward, Gregg didn't see what the fuss was about. ''My strike zone's been the same for 25 years,'' he said.

Players rarely criticize umpires publicly, knowing they'll have to deal with them again. But given the cloak of anonymity, Baseball Weekly wondered who the players would rate as the best and worst umpires, especially when it comes to calling balls and strikes and dealing with players.

Over the past six weeks, Baseball Weekly surveyed more than 100 veteran major leaguers about umpires. Questions focused on two areas: consistency of strike zone and comportment.

We also spoke to managers, coaches and general managers, but their feelings were not included in the overall tabulation. In the end, perhaps the most telling result was that players had strong feelings — positively or negatively — for only a handful of umpires.

As might be expected, a few individuals consistently rated at one or the other extreme, with most falling in the middle. Most players seemed comfortable with the differences in strike-zone interpretation, as long as each umpire was consistent within his own zone.

''Every one of us will see a ball a little differently,'' says American League umpire Durwood Merrill. ''We're not all alike. Our personalities are different and our approaches to the game, mannerisms and our zones are going to be different. Not a lot, but a little. We are human.

''The thing about it is, the players probably know the umpires better than we know ourselves.''

Last month, National League president Len Coleman promoted umpires Randy Marsh and Steve Rippley to crew chief status ahead of Gregg and other more experienced umps. Coleman also promoted Jerry Crawford, the next most-tenured umpire not already a crew chief.

Traditionally, umpire promotions have been based on tenure. But since taking office in 1994, Coleman has pledged to adhere to a merit-based system.

Coleman did not solicit player responses when making his crew chief promotions, although he might have come to the same conclusions had he done so.

According to the Baseball Weekly survey, players ranked Marsh and Crawford among the top five umpires in the NL. Rippley's name rarely came up positively or negatively, perhaps a compliment in itself, but the umpires that Marsh and Rippley bypassed were among the lowest rated in our survey.

Marsh, 49, has less experience than Gregg, 46, Joe West, 45, and Charlie Williams, 54. Rippley, 43, has less service time than Gregg, West, Williams and Bob Davidson, 45.

National Leaguers praised Marsh for his consistent, if somewhat tight, strike zone and firm but friendly manner.

''If a guy says something to him about a call, he'll explain it,'' says one National Leaguer. ''He doesn't fight frustration with frustration.''

''I just try to be consistent,'' Marsh says. ''A pitcher might not like a certain pitch, but he knows it's going to be called the same way in the ninth inning as it was in the first. The hitters know it and the pitchers know it. A lot of it has to do with your demeanor. I don't have a chip on my shoulder.''

Crawford, 50, is the president of the umpires association and the son of former NL umpire Shag Crawford. In addition to his plate work, the younger Crawford received widespread acclaim for his work on the bases, even though that was not part of the survey. Says one player: ''He legitimately tries his best to be in position and make the right call every time.''

Frank Pulli, who despite a strike zone rated the second-widest in the NL after Gregg's, received high marks all around, not just from pitchers. Rounding out the NL's top five, according to the survey, were Ed Montague and Ed Rapuano.

Rapuano, 40, in his eighth full season, is the youngest of the five and the only non-crew chief. Montague, 49, became a crew chief in 1996 after John McSherry collapsed and died on the field on Opening Day in Cincinnati.

''The key is to stay in the game on every pitch and to treat guys with respect,'' Montague says. ''If guys start giving me grief, I can give it right back. But 99% of players are good guys and fair. The other guys who constantly complain, well, they're going to get treated like they treat you.''

Players praised Pulli's strike zone, even though its boundaries seem to stray far beyond the 17-inch width of home plate. ''You can have good-wide and bad-wide,'' says one NL infielder. ''Frank's consistent, so that's good-wide. You know what to expect.''

''If he makes a mistake, he'll tell you, 'I screwed up,' '' says one NL outfielder. ''He relates to you, talks to you. That's all you need sometimes.''

Pulli, in his 27th season, says he made a conscious decision 20 years ago to open up the plate to move the game along.

''My theory was that if the hitters knew I was going to call a pitch a strike, they'd come up swinging,'' says Pulli, 63. ''Once guys realized I wasn't going to change, they adapted.''

That philosophy might explain the general feeling that the NL is a pitcher's league, with umpires widening the strike zone. Says Montague: ''I assume every pitch will be a strike until it's proven otherwise.''

Gregg's strike zone, on the other hand, might be classified as double-wide. After Game Five of last year's NLCS, several Braves estimated that Gregg was calling strikes that were as much as 18 inches off the plate.

Gregg, when reached earlier this month, didn't have time to talk and has not returned phone calls seeking comment. After Game Five, however, he maintained that he called his normal game and was consistent for both teams.

''He's right,'' one NL position player says. ''He's a pitcher's umpire, but you can't complain because he's calling it consistently.''

Others disagree. In fact, NL respondents rated Gregg's strike zone the second most inconsistent in the league, after that of Charlie Williams, of whom former St. Louis Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog once said, ''It's a good thing he only has two choices.''

''You have no idea what's a strike with Charlie,'' one player says. ''It varies from at-bat to at-bat, even pitch to pitch. He's a great guy, but not a very good ump.''

An umpire's approachability also factors into his overall perception among players, perhaps more so than his strike zone. Inconsistency, along with a quick temper, players say, are an umpire's two cardinal sins.

Few umps exhibit both, according to the survey, although those viewed as the most confrontational and least tolerant of discussion also tended to rank at the bottom overall.

In the NL, Wally Bell, Davidson, Bruce Froemming and Angel Hernandez received average marks for their plate work, but were rated as having the hottest tempers. Several players wonder if Froemming, after 27 years, hasn't burned out on the game.

''He's a good umpire,'' one player says. ''But he doesn't seem to enjoy what he does anymore. It's like he doesn't want to be out there.''

Froemming chuckles at such suggestions, noting that many players actually have chided him for lightening up in recent years. Last season, Froemming ejected no one. ''In a million years, I didn't think that could happen,'' he says.

''I'm a no-nonsense guy,'' Froemming says. ''For years I've heard that I have a short fuse. I do if you cross that line. But I'm not out there to intimidate or be tough. I respect players and I expect the same respect.''

West, in particular, rubs players the wrong way, although respondents rate him above average at calling balls and strikes.

''He'll yell and smirk at you,'' one player says. ''He seems to want to antagonize you, which is weird because he's a nice guy off the field.''

Adds a pitcher, ''He could be one of the best if he didn't have such a chip on his shoulder.''

Players say the AL strike zone is far different from the NL's. Umpires are more likely to go by the book, staying tight on the plate and calling strikes slightly higher than in the NL.

According to the Rules of Baseball, the strike zone ''is that area over home plate, the upper limit of which is a horizontal line at the midpoint between the top of the shoulders and the top of the uniform pants, and the lower level is a line at the hallow beneath the knee cap. The Strike Zone shall be determined from the batter's stance as the batter is prepared to swing at a pitched ball.''

American League umpires say the higher strike zone is an aftereffect of using the outside chest protector, a cumbersome, padded ''balloon'' shield that forced umps to stand taller before it was phased out in the early 1980s, long after the NL had switched to the inside protector worn under the shirt.

AL umpires have worn the inside protector for years, of course, but 17 umps began working in the AL prior to 1979.

The strike zone ''dropped a lot,'' says AL crew chief Joe Brinkman, who is in his 26th season. ''With the balloon, your stance was higher and you were in a higher position in the strike zone. Once we got rid of it, it probably dropped three inches.''

Everyone seems to agree that the strike zones differ between the leagues, but theories vary as to why. Does the offensive style of the AL lend itself to a tighter strike zone? Or do pitchers keep the ball in the strike zone knowing they won't get the wider pitch called?

''We have no problem calling strikes, but we're not going to go six to eight inches off the plate to do so,'' says AL crew chief Dave Phillips. ''The pitcher might say we're squeezing him, but we're not. The hitter has just as much right up there as the pitcher.''

While the NL's Pulli has a vast strike zone in a league full of wide interpretations, John Hirschbeck's wide zone stands out in the by-the-book AL. No umpire received a more clear-cut rating in the survey than Hirschbeck, 43, with AL pitchers and hitters agreeing that he's the widest. They also say he's among the most consistent.

''I love pitching when he's behind the plate,'' says one AL veteran. ''He's an AL ump with an NL zone.''

Unlike the National Leaguers, AL respondents preferred the strike zones of younger umpires. Of the five top vote-getters, only Rich Garcia is a crew chief. ''He always does a good job,'' says one AL infielder. ''He really seems to care.''

Of the five top-rated AL umpires, the most intriguing selection was John Shulock, 48, who was universally admired for his consistent strike zone, but also rated among the quickest tempers in the AL. Like the NL's Crawford, Shulock received unsolicited praise for his work on the basepaths.

Several older players qualified their criticism of Shulock's demeanor, recognizing that he and Derryl Cousins are the only umpires remaining from the eight who received jobs in 1979 after crossing umpire picket lines. Neither has ever been invited to join the Umpires Association.

''He's good, but tough,'' says one veteran of Shulock. ''After what he's gone through, I guess that might explain it.''

Players rated Tim McClelland, 46, highly, both for his consistently with the strike zone and treatment of players. ''You have some guys who will never ring up Cal Ripken in Baltimore, no matter what the pitch,'' one AL regular says. ''McClelland's consistent for everyone, no matter who you are.''

Jim Joyce, 42, Tim Tschida, 37, and Jim McKean, 52, also received high praise. No umpire in either league was more popular among catchers than Joyce, which might be the most objective evaluation since catchers must deal with umpires more than any other players.

''He's as fair as they come,'' one catcher says. ''You're always able to talk to him.''

No umpire aroused a more passionate response among American Leaguers than Merrill, who was given style points for his flamboyant, wisecracking demeanor that has earned him the nickname ''Naked Gun'' after the movie featuring an over-the-top umpiring performance by Leslie Nielsen.

But others say the author of the recently published You're Out and You're Ugly Too: Confessions of an Umpire with Attitude takes his showmanship act a little too far.

''He gets carried away,'' one infielder says. ''Sometimes you just want to tell him to shut up and call the game.''

Respondents rated Merrill, 60, along with Ted Hendry, 57, and Chuck Meriwether, 41, as the most inconsistent AL umpires in calling balls and strikes. Players say they all compensate with positive attitudes, however.

Meriwether ''tries hard, but he makes a lot of mistakes,'' one catcher says. ''He means well, but he's very inconsistent.''

Says one pitcher: ''He seems afraid to ring a guy up.''

Hendry ''tries the hardest,'' one regular says. ''He listens to players and tries to understand you, but he's very inconsistent at the plate.''

Merrill makes no apologies for his style and does have his supporters. ''He's the best umpire in baseball over the last five years,'' St. Louis manager Tony La Russa writes on Merrill's book jacket. ''He's one of those guys that you like to watch on TV because he puts so much zest into the game.''

''The Reggie Jackson of umpiring,'' Reggie Jackson adds.

Ken Griffey Jr. thinks so highly of Merrill that he wrote the foreword for the book. ''I've never seen anyone who's able to stay mad at him,'' Griffey writes.

One AL catcher agrees: ''He's the most inconsistent, but you can't get mad at him. It would be like yelling at your grandfather.''

Merrill says it's easy for him to justify his wide strike zone. ''If you bring the plate out one ball width at each corner, that makes the plate 23 inches instead of 17. A good hitter can hit that. I don't apologize for having a wider strike zone. Pitchers love for me to work their games. The problem is they forget the next day who was umpiring. Hitters don't.''

While American Leaguers say they're willing to cut some slack for an umpire with a good attitude, they gave poor reviews to umpires seen as arrogant or difficult to approach.

Dale Ford, 55, was rated low on comportment and consistency of strike zone. ''He's the Eric Gregg of the AL,'' says a veteran of both leagues. ''He's very inconsistent and he always seems to be bitching about something.''

Brinkman, 53, received an above-average rating for his strike zone, but respondents felt he had one of the hottest tempers in the AL, along with Shulock, Al Clark and Ken Kaiser. ''He's a grouch,'' one regular says of Brinkman. ''You can't talk to him.''

Says Brinkman, ''If they feel like they can't talk to us because we hold grudges, that's ridiculous. I think the on-field relationships are the best since I've been in the game.''

Clark, 50, is ranked for having among the AL's widest strike zones, along with Hirschbeck and Merrill. Unlike Hirschbeck and Merrill, however, Clark is said to have the quickest temper in the league. ''The worst,'' says one AL regular. ''He always has an attitude.''

''I don't think I'm any more difficult to talk to,'' Clark says. ''I am perhaps a little more quick with the thumb. But I'm out there to umpire a baseball game, not to take a lot of crap from players. I'm going to work as hard as I can every day just as they are.

''But I'm 50 years old and I will not allow myself to be yelled at. I work much better in a quiet environment. Guys can talk to me all they want, but I do have a problem when someone yells at me. I won't tolerate that.''

Kaiser, 52, the one-time professional wrestler, was singled out for his eccentricities. But unlike Merrill, Kaiser's personality is viewed as a negative. Several echo the sentiments of one AL outfielder: ''He holds grudges and his strike zone seems to change depending upon who's at the plate. He has this attitude that the game cannot go on without Ken Kaiser. It shouldn't be that way. You should love your job.''

It should be noted that most players rated umpires highly as a whole. ''Most of them do a heck of a job,'' one NL outfielder says. ''You have to give them credit. I wouldn't want to do what they do.''

Indeed, it is perhaps understandable if umpires display a little frustration, even surliness. Eighteen months after player/umpire relations erupted with the Roberto Alomar spitting incident, the political climate has not changed.

Fourteen months ago, there was much talk of reform during a meeting between officials from MLB and the unions for the players and umpires. At the meeting, a ''code of conduct'' was proposed to govern behavior between on-field personnel. No follow-up discussions have taken place since June.

In February, Players Association lieutenant Gene Orza testified at a hearing to determine whether Latrell Sprewell's one-year NBA suspension for assaulting coach P.J. Carlesimo should be reduced. Orza reportedly drew an analogy between Sprewell's punishment and the modest five-game suspension given to Alomar for spitting in the face of Hirschbeck. (Sprewell's suspension was reduced by five months.)

Umpires union chief Richie Phillips has pressed for the code of conduct, but Orza maintains that, at most, the union would consider a ''statement of responsibilities'' and that any code affecting players would be in violation of collective bargaining rights.

Interestingly, the Players Association is conducting its own survey regarding umpires. According to player sources, they're being asked to rate umpires on consistency of strike zone, temperament, mental toughness, physical condition and overall performance.

With the players and umpires firmly entrenched with their union leaders and lawyers, it's unlikely any further talks will take place.

''If we could ever put everyone in the same room, I don't think there would be any problems,'' says the NL's Harry Wendelstedt, baseball's senior umpire. ''But now that the players and umpires have attorneys and they're fighting for a position, that's unlikely to happen.''

Umpires insist their beef is less with the players than the system, which gives the league presidents little disciplinary power over players. If nothing else, Coleman and AL president Gene Budig are lauded for opening the lines of communication with umpires, having held several crew-chief and staff meetings. Budig even arranged an umpire ''workshop'' in St. Petersburg, Fla., before spring training.

Players and umpires at least appear willing to work on improving the pace of the game, as evidenced by the positive response to Hall of Famer Frank Robinson's proposal to cut out down time between pitches.

''There's a lot more out there that players, managers and umpires agree upon than disagree upon,'' says the AL's Dave Phillips.

Umpires have more accountability than most players realize. Because umps earn additional income from working an All-Star Game ($5,000), Division Series ($12,500), League Championship Series ($15,000) and the World Series ($17,500), Budig and Coleman can effectively hand out bonuses in the form of postseason assignments.

''I have no problem with an evaluation system or a code of conduct,'' says Larry Barnett, the AL's senior umpire. ''Remember, the code of conduct is not just for players, it's for umpires. I know I've done some stupid things in my career, things I probably should have been called on.''

Because of recent collective bargaining agreements between MLB and the umpires, the league presidents can make assignments and promotions based on their own reviews, instead of following tenure.

In 1995, the league presidents appointed a five-man panel to perform umpire evaluations. The findings of that panel, which consists of former umpires Doug Harvey and Steve Palermo, AL coordinator of umpire operations Phil Janssen, and former big leaguers John Roseboro and Billy Sample, are not released. Even the umpires do not see the results.

''If you wanted to be liked by everyone, this is the wrong job to be in,'' Barnett says. ''But you accept the criticism you get, correct the mistakes you make and move on.''

If Baseball Weekly's survey is any indication, the vast majority of umpires must be doing a good job. In addition to those with positive reviews, a significant number of umpires were rarely mentioned. In the AL, crew chiefs Barnett, Don Denkinger and Jim Evans, along with colleagues Cousins, Mark Johnson, Larry McCoy, Dan Morrison and Larry Young barely registered on anyone's radar screen.

In the NL, few players have anything to say about new crew chief Rippley, Dana DeMuth, Brian Gorman, Tom Hallion, Mark Hirschbeck, Bill Hohn, Larry Poncino, Charlie Reliford, Rich Rieker, Larry Vanover and Mike Winters.

Since players were asked for superlatives, those not mentioned might be viewed as merely average, forgettable, even mediocre. Then again, in a career field where it's nearly impossible to go unnoticed, this group might have achieved the truest form of success.

They have remained anonymous.

Copyright 1998 USA Today Baseball Weekly