Where Nobody Knows Your Name: Life In the Minor Leagues of Baseball by John Feinstein Page B
Authors: John Feinstein
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not a choice for the umpire. Players can say, ‘I’ll deal with life in the minors.’ A Triple-A player can keep his job or go back to Double-A if necessary if he wants to keep playing. Not an umpire. If they don’t think you’re going to make it to the majors, you’re gone.”
Lollo knew he had already beaten long odds getting to where he was. About 1 percent of umpires who come out of umpiring school and are hired at the rookie-league level get to the major leagues. Almost one-third of those who get to Triple-A get there. And if you make the call-up list, your chances increase exponentially.
He had reached the doorstep. The last two falls he had been assigned to work in the Arizona Fall League, which was extra money and extra experience and meant he was being watched by a lot of major-league personnel because the league is full of top prospects on their way up to the majors.
In the spring of 2012 he found out that he was going to work major-league games in spring training. This was a big step. It was also a financial windfall. Like players, umpires make a lot less money in the minors than in the majors. A major-league umpire makes a minimum salary of $90,000 a year plus $420 a day in per diem. A top minor-league umpire—like Lollo—makes $3,200 a month in addition to a $48-a-day per diem. Major-league umpires pay for their own hotels out of their per diem and tip the clubhouse guys who take care of them in the ballparks about $40 a day, compared with about $10 a day in Triple-A. Even so, there’s a wide gap.
By working twenty-five major-league games in March at $175 a game while being able to stay in his grandparents’ home north of Sarasota most of the month, Lollo would increase his income for 2012
by close to 40 percent. Which meant he might not have to work quite as hard the following winter back home in New Lexington, Ohio, where he lived with his wife and two sons—the second of whom had arrived the previous December. He had done some substitute teaching in the past and had also done snow removal. The extra money from spring training meant he could cut back his hours and spend more of his off-season with his family.
“Which is a big deal,” he said. “Because during the season this isn’t a lifestyle conducive to family life.”
Umpires never have home games. The closest Lollo came was when he did games in Columbus—about fifty-five miles from home.
March, though, was a fun month, one of the most enjoyable Lollo had experienced since he had gone straight from high school to umpiring school eleven years earlier. The sun was warm, the games were relaxed, the facilities were comfortable, and the drives—compared with the regular season—were short.
He was looking forward to the season—to working in real big-league games again and to proving he was ready for the next and most important step of his career.
“The toughest steps you take are usually the first one and the last one,” he said with a smile. “I got through the first one okay. But we all know that the last one can be rough because a lot of it is out of your control. Players have numbers that don’t lie. Umpires don’t have that. We have to have good eyes to do our jobs well. You have to hope the guys evaluating you see things as clearly as they want you to see things.”
Unlike players such as Elarton, Podsednik, and Schwinden, who spent spring training hoping to begin the season in the major leagues, Lollo knew he would be heading back to Triple-A after he made the drive back north. That was fine with him.
For this year. He turned thirty at the end of March, just as spring training was winding up.
He was ready, he believed, to take that last long step.
4
Slice of Life
ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES IN … ALLENTOWN … PAWTUCKET … NORFOLK
On the first Saturday of June—June 2 to be exact—the Pawtucket Red Sox were in Allentown, Pennsylvania, preparing to play a twi-night doubleheader against the Lehigh Valley IronPigs.
Lollo knew he had already beaten long odds getting to where he was. About 1 percent of umpires who come out of umpiring school and are hired at the rookie-league level get to the major leagues. Almost one-third of those who get to Triple-A get there. And if you make the call-up list, your chances increase exponentially.
He had reached the doorstep. The last two falls he had been assigned to work in the Arizona Fall League, which was extra money and extra experience and meant he was being watched by a lot of major-league personnel because the league is full of top prospects on their way up to the majors.
In the spring of 2012 he found out that he was going to work major-league games in spring training. This was a big step. It was also a financial windfall. Like players, umpires make a lot less money in the minors than in the majors. A major-league umpire makes a minimum salary of $90,000 a year plus $420 a day in per diem. A top minor-league umpire—like Lollo—makes $3,200 a month in addition to a $48-a-day per diem. Major-league umpires pay for their own hotels out of their per diem and tip the clubhouse guys who take care of them in the ballparks about $40 a day, compared with about $10 a day in Triple-A. Even so, there’s a wide gap.
By working twenty-five major-league games in March at $175 a game while being able to stay in his grandparents’ home north of Sarasota most of the month, Lollo would increase his income for 2012
by close to 40 percent. Which meant he might not have to work quite as hard the following winter back home in New Lexington, Ohio, where he lived with his wife and two sons—the second of whom had arrived the previous December. He had done some substitute teaching in the past and had also done snow removal. The extra money from spring training meant he could cut back his hours and spend more of his off-season with his family.
“Which is a big deal,” he said. “Because during the season this isn’t a lifestyle conducive to family life.”
Umpires never have home games. The closest Lollo came was when he did games in Columbus—about fifty-five miles from home.
March, though, was a fun month, one of the most enjoyable Lollo had experienced since he had gone straight from high school to umpiring school eleven years earlier. The sun was warm, the games were relaxed, the facilities were comfortable, and the drives—compared with the regular season—were short.
He was looking forward to the season—to working in real big-league games again and to proving he was ready for the next and most important step of his career.
“The toughest steps you take are usually the first one and the last one,” he said with a smile. “I got through the first one okay. But we all know that the last one can be rough because a lot of it is out of your control. Players have numbers that don’t lie. Umpires don’t have that. We have to have good eyes to do our jobs well. You have to hope the guys evaluating you see things as clearly as they want you to see things.”
Unlike players such as Elarton, Podsednik, and Schwinden, who spent spring training hoping to begin the season in the major leagues, Lollo knew he would be heading back to Triple-A after he made the drive back north. That was fine with him.
For this year. He turned thirty at the end of March, just as spring training was winding up.
He was ready, he believed, to take that last long step.
4
Slice of Life
ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES IN … ALLENTOWN … PAWTUCKET … NORFOLK
On the first Saturday of June—June 2 to be exact—the Pawtucket Red Sox were in Allentown, Pennsylvania, preparing to play a twi-night doubleheader against the Lehigh Valley IronPigs.
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