As a beloved member of the American Youth Baseball Hall of Fame, loyal Scaiaholics will recall my history as a baseball umpire.

I bring this up because Angel Hernandez’ retirement has drawn just a bit of interest from the baseball world.

Allow me to weigh in, even though no one asked [especially because no one asked]. At the iconic Harry Wendelstedt Umpire School, we were taught not to make ourselves part of the game. We’d take a quiz every morning before heading out to the field to make sure we had processed the previous day’s classroom work.

These quizzes helped us make quick decisions so we’d remember rules that might only come up once or twice a year. For instance, one might remember off the top of his head 20 years later that, on a batted ball with a runner on first, if the first throw by an infielder were to go out of play, the runners would be awarded two bases from the time of the pitch. So the runners would be set up on second and third.

However, say the infield is trying to turn a double play and the whole thing goes gunny sack. The third baseman bobbles the ball and throws to second, but that runner is already safe. So the second baseman tries to salvage an out at first, but throws into the stands. In that case, the awards would be made at the time of the throw. The guy on second would score, and the guy on first would go to third [presuming he had already touched first when the second baseman released the ball, of course].

Practical knowledge like that makes you a real hit at parties.

But the application of those rules makes it tougher, and that may be where the disagreement over Angel Hernandez comes in. We were taught not to argue with managers. We were gently encouraged to use the phrase, “In my judgment…”

“In my judgment, Ol’ So and So beat the throw,” we’d explain, keeping our cool.

Gentlemen such as myself who speak with their hands were also gently encouraged to put our hands in our back pockets during these situations. We were not encouraged to cross our arms in front of us because that’d make us look standoffish on TV.

In turn, a manager gesturing wildly, pointing at bases, other umpires and whatnot while you stand there calmly makes us all root for the umpire who’s just trying to do his job.

We also got tips to stay classy when we did have to eject a manager. For instance, when we’d point him away from the field, we’d take a step back so as not to touch the manager as we swooped our arms around.

It’s possible I was an early wash-out. I’m told those who made it further into the minor league system got a bit more leeway, but they were still told not to make a, to use a baseball term, hooplah.

We were taught not to make the game about us. Some people might think Angel Hernandez went the opposite direction.

At least one writer is coming to Hernandez’ defense, though. In this age where we all seem to disagree about everything, he points out Angel Hernandez has brought us all together to recognize how awful Angel Hernandez is.

Of course, replay now has solved all our problems. All of them.