Posted on Oct 6, 2006 | by Tim Ellsworth

ST. LOUIS (BP)--Major League umpire Ted Barrett, who is working the National League Division Series between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the New York Mets, doesn’t find too many players or managers willing to mess with him when they disagree with a call.

For one thing, Barrett is physically imposing. At 6-foot-4, 250 pounds, he’s bigger than most guys on the field.

For another, Barrett is a former amateur boxer. Add that to his size, and you get an umpire from whom players would just as soon steer clear.

“He’s a golden glove boxer, so don’t get in his face,” St. Louis Cardinals first base coach Dave McKay said of Barrett.

But despite the apparent barriers, Barrett is approachable. In a poll Sports Illustrated conducted this year of 470 Major League players, Barrett was tied for third as the best umpire in the game. Maybe that’s because of the way he goes about his job.

“You don’t want to be perceived as weak,” Barrett said. “The players see me, and I try to laugh and smile on the field a lot, and I enjoy my job. But I don’t want to be perceived as ‘Here’s somebody we can just run over.’”

Or, what Barrett hopes even more, is that the characteristics of Christ are shining forth through his life, attracting others and pointing them to his God. As he matures as a Christian, Barrett often finds himself acting in ways that run counter to the umpiring culture.

“Even though I was a Christian in the minor leagues, I wasn’t trying to be Christ-like. I was trying to be umpire-like,” Barrett said. “I realized I needed to start living this too, not just in my life, but in my work. It bends everything that’s been in the tradition of umpiring for 100 years.”

Barrett pointed to forgiveness, as an example. Most umpires try to keep a healthy distance between themselves and the players, even when a player or coach tries to apologize for his behavior.

“Take your apology and stick it” is a common response from an umpire.

But Barrett remembers an encounter he had with Doug Mansolino, now the third base coach for the Houston Astros. At the time, Mansolino was the bench coach for the Detroit Tigers, and Barrett had ejected him from a game for his behavior.

The next day, Barrett was working third base, where Lance Parrish was the third base coach.

“Doug wanted me to tell you he’s sorry,” Parrish told Barrett.

Barrett said that’s a tactic players and coaches often employ -– apologizing by proxy. He’s not crazy about the practice, and he nearly told Parrish what he thought about it.

“Right away I was about to come back and say, ‘Tell Doug to come and tell me himself. Tell him to stick it,’” Barrett said. “But in my mind, I think God was just laying it on me, saying, ‘I’ve forgiven you of so much. You need to forgive.’”

So Barrett told Parrish to relay a message to Mansolino: “Tell him I forgive him.”

“That was about seven years ago,” Barrett said. “And now, every time I see Doug, he comes over and says hi and brightens up. And he’s a hard, crusty guy. So, I think that probably ministered to him a lot. It completely goes against the grain of how we’re supposed to behave.”

Barrett said his Christian beliefs manifest themselves in his job in other ways. On the field, he tries to handle situations in a godly manner, especially when conflict comes. And conflict will come.

“It’s hard not to lash back,” Barrett said. “The biggest thing I try to do is listen. I try to be slow to anger. Soft-spoken answers sometimes turn back wrath.”

He also tries to assess the situation and discern where the manager or player is coming from and what the motive is. If they have a legitimate complaint, Barrett tries to give them room to air their grievance.

“But if I think a guy’s trying to manipulate me or mess with me for some reason, I let them know I’m not going to put up with that,” Barrett said. “I will get angry at times, if I think they’re trying to do something that’s not fair to me or the other team. I try not to overreact.”

Mike Port, MLB’s vice president of umpiring, said the qualities of tolerance, dignity, knowledge, ability and diplomatic control are necessary to excel in the job.

“While Major League Baseball is fortunate to have a great number of umpires who fit that profile, certainly Ted Barrett is right up there in those respects,” Port said. “He is now a 10-year veteran, and yet seems to keep right on improving, which is no surprise given the pride he takes in his work.

“To say he is respected by his peers is an understatement, as many look to him as an example and rely on his stability.”

Umpiring, however, is a thankless job. Everybody -– players, managers, fans -– expects perfection. But get every call right, and few will notice. Miss a call -– especially a game-changing call -– and get death threats.

“Honestly, if you’re not noticed,” is what Philadelphia Phillies pitcher Aaron Fultz says makes a good umpire. “If there’s no controversy, that’s the big thing.”

McKay offered a similar assessment.

“I think a good umpire is someone who blends in,” McKay said. “He doesn’t stand out.”

The job isn’t without its lighter moments. Barrett remembers one time when Terry Collins was managing the Angels and came out to argue a call.

“Ted, I’ve gotta get run. I’ve gotta get run,” Collins told Barrett. “Will you run me?”

“Yeah, OK,” Barrett replied.

“I’m gonna throw my hat, and then you can run me,” Collins said.

Then Collins started yelling and making a scene. “I’ve got this player over here, and he quit on me,” Collins griped. “My third base coach thinks he’s the manager. These fans are all over me.”

All the while Collins is waving his arms and raising a ruckus. Barrett started to chuckle.

“Don’t you laugh,” Collins said in Barrett’s face. “Don’t you laugh. If you laugh, they’ll know what I’m doing.”

Such encounters happen more than most people might think, Barrett said.

Another time, Jim Tracy was managing the Los Angeles Dodgers, and Barrett had made two calls on close plays at home plate that had gone against the Dodgers. Tracy came out to argue.

“I know you got both of those right,” Tracy yelled. “I had a good look from the dugout. I know you got them right, but I’ve gotta go.”

So Tracy started kicking dirt on the plate and after a brief tirade, which got him ejected, replied calmly to Barrett, “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Whatever the situation, Barrett said his goal is to communicate the Gospel to his colleagues by the way he conducts himself.

“If I can have an attitude that’s reflective of Christ and trying to be obedient to Him, I think that speaks volumes to the people I work with,” Barrett said. “The reputation I strive for is, ‘He’s a good guy, but we don’t want to mess with him.’ That would be the ultimate compliment a player could give me.”
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