Umpire who called 1st game in 1962 leaves lasting legacy

HUNTERTOWN, Ind. (AP) - Let's start with the catcher.

It's the 1980s and this kid, no more than in his early or mid-teens, is talking up a storm behind the plate. We start with him because, well, it's as good as any place to start when you're talking about Roger Miller the umpire.

And there's no better person to tell this story than Roger Miller himself.

"He was a cocky little rascal," says Miller, stretched out and reclining on a chair in his Huntertown living room. "I told him, 'If you want to keep playing this game you'll keep your mouth shut.' He didn't, so I told him, 'You're done for tonight.' "

"After the game," Miller tells The Journal Gazette (http://bit.ly/1uRjppL ), "I see his parents. His mom and dad, they got the kid between them and they come walking my way. I'm thinking, 'Oh.' You know, I don't want to get chewed out, and I hear the dad go, 'Hey, blue!' "

"He comes up to me and does this," says Miller, extending his hand as if giving a handshake. "He tells me, 'Thank you for throwing my son out.' He says, 'I've been trying to tell him he's going to get thrown out if he keeps it up but he doesn't listen to me.' "

"'Maybe he'll learn something.' "

If you played baseball or softball at almost any level or even attended games in this area of the state during the past half century, there's a good chance you either crossed base paths with or watched, whether you knew it or not, Roger Miller.

Maybe he flashed that friendly smile of his at you as he tried to get you to hustle on or off the field; or maybe he quietly gave you, as a kid, a bit of encouragement after an error in the field or some friendly advice; maybe you were the rare coach or player he ejected from a game; or maybe he told you, as an adult, the importance of showing up without stains all over your umpire's shirt along with nicely pressed pants and shined up shoes, no matter how dirty they might end up within an inning on the field.

If you were paying attention, you learned something from the man.

Or you were influenced by him.

"Everywhere he goes in Fort Wayne, people know him," says Mark Stultz, the president of the Fort Wayne Umpires Inc., who was in charge of assigning Miller to games last summer. "Sometimes, when he goes out to umpire, the people coaching are people he umpired when they were kids."

Miller began umpiring in 1962, back when local fast-pitch softball in the area began to die out. To keep himself immersed in a game he loved, he took what he now calls the "best part-time job" he's ever had for a whopping $3.50 a game pay.

He bought a chest protector the year he started and never replaced it, opting to keep with it even though it had the unwieldy buckle straps and was heavier than the lightweight, Velcro strapped protectors many umpires use today.

Back then, umpires were required to wear heavy pants and heavy, long-sleeve shirts, no matter how hot the summers got. You needed to get all the water you could before a game, because you couldn't bring a thermos or jug with you to the field like you can today.

And as the years went by he kept on garnering respect, from players and coaches alike, as well as stories.

So many stories. Stories that flow out of the man like they are fireside chats from a bygone era.

Like this one:

"Old Bill Jones," Roger Miller says, "he was the head coach at DeKalb, and I'll never forget this. Runner on first, ball gets hit to second, and they try to turn two, but the shortstop just kind of glides over the bag like they do in the pros."

"I call the runner at first out but call the runner at second safe. Old Jonesy, he comes out of the dugout going, 'Hey, hey, whaddya call him at second?' I told him, 'Safe.' He looks over at the shortstop and says, 'You touch the bag?' Shortstop looks down and says, 'No.' Jonesy just turned round around and walked right back into the dugout. Bill Jonesy, he was fun."

"People who did argue with him," says C.J. Graf, a former girls fast-pitch coach and now an umpire himself, "didn't argue for too long."

Graf has been an umpire for roughly seven years, calling many games with Miller. Every time they were assigned to the same game, Graf knew it'd be professionally run with no problems. And a lot of what you see in Graf's demeanor on the field, he says, can be attributed to what he gleaned off Miller.

"The biggest thing I learned from him is how to carry yourself and present yourself in a professional manner," Graf says. "Coaches yell at you, fans yell at you, and sometimes you want to turn around and yell back. But just having that demeanor and having that aura of being in charge, he was always a dignified and confident individual."

Miller would tell young umpires the importance of looking the part. He hated seeing guys in the field with stains on their shirts or pants that looked like they'd been crumpled into a ball before they were put on.

He shined his shoes before every game - it didn't matter if they'd be dusty just minutes into a six-game Saturday shift, he said. If you wanted the respect afforded to you, you needed to look respectful, was his philosophy.

It's something he learned from Vern Krauss, former president of Fort Wayne Umpires Inc. and who is now a member of the Indiana Amateur Softball Association's Hall of Fame.

"One thing I was always strict on," Miller says, "is you may not be a good umpire, but you could look good."

Miller turned 79 last year and proceeded to call roughly 140 games over the spring and summer, doing so at a clip that even Stultz had to step in and make sure the old man wasn't going overboard in testing his physical limits.

In fact, if Stultz gave Miller two games off in a row, Miller was on the phone asking if everything was all right, if anyone complained about his performance or if he was in trouble with the governing body and that's why he wasn't getting games.

Stultz always assured him that was far from the case.

"He was better than people half his age," Stultz said. "It's amazing."

But as with everything, with every story, an end comes.

Miller called his last game the week before Labor Day.

It was a girls softball game and it wasn't supposed to be his last game, but that's just how fate turns out.

A few years ago doctors diagnosed Miller with cancer. Through treatment, it was kept at bay and eventually seemed to be gone, although he went to doctors for regular checkups every six months to make sure all was well with his body.

At his last checkup, doctors said the cancer was back.

They also said there wasn't anything they could do.

"They told me I'd have a nice Christmas," Miller says, "but it won't be long after that."

News of his cancer is beginning to spread, especially within the community he's been a part of for so long.

Stultz sent word to members of Fort Wayne Umpires through email, expecting a few replies about some good memories, but what he didn't expect was his inbox to be bombarded with so many stories about what Roger Miller did for people through the years.

"I didn't realize how many umpires he had touched," Stultz says. "Some of them were new umpires, young guys. And Roger, he takes the time to talk to these people. He clearly engages them. It was just really heartwarming."

So Roger Miller the umpire has called the final out of his final inning, but the man is still going, as long as he can. Family has come to visit him - the three adult children, the 14 grandchildren and the 27 great-grandchildren - and Christmas was excellent.

While there isn't much doctors can do for his body, he's keeping his mind sharp.

The man, he can still tell a story.

And it's usually one with a lesson.

"There was this pitcher," Miller says, "And after every call he's shaking his head, dropping his arms. So I go out to him. "

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Information from: The Journal Gazette, http://www.journalgazette.net