Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Eastern New Mexico Univeristy started its season off right Tuesday. The artists formerly known as the Zias grabbed a doubleheader sweep of Oklahoma Panhandle State University, the first to open a season in the program’s 20-year history.
But the game was not without mistakes by the umpires and me.
With a Greyhound on first early in the opener, a grounder was hit down the right side and made a sound as it went by the ENMU baserunner.
Kevin Wilson
“It hit her,” I said to nobody in particular. That means the baserunner should be out.
“It hit her,” the OPSU first baseman pleaded in vain to the umpire. Single into right, he ruled.
The baserunner, now at second, noticed an outfield bobble and took off for third. The outfielder recovered, and the baserunner was thrown out by about 5 feet.
“Ball don’t lie,” I said to a smattering of clueless faces.
That was my mistake. What jerk goes on a softball field and uses basketball slang?
“Ball don’t lie,” highlights a bad moment in officiating. It introduces a belief that whatever the sport, the ball holds the power to prevent a bad call from benefiting the recipient.
Phantom foul on the court, and the opponent misses the free throw? Ball don’t lie.
The greatest purveyor of “Ball don’t lie” is former NBA All-Star Rasheed Wallace. I have a friend who knew a high school teammate of Wallace’s, and the top complaint was that Rasheed would never stop talking. Talking to teammates, coaches, referees, himself, until it always ended the same way.
“Sheed ...”
“What?”
“Shut. Up.”
Somebody with far too much time on their hands found NBA videos of Wallace being called for fouls, then yelling, “Ball don’t lie,” on the ensuing free throw miss. His defense? I’m not being unsportsmanlike or taunting because I’m not directing it at anybody.
I’ve said it during high school games, to nobody in particular. Everybody who hears it gives me the same look, with the smile that says they’ll pretend to know what I’m talking about as long as I stop talking about it.
“Ball don’t lie” had an unprecedented run in the 2015 NFL playoffs. The Dallas Cowboys defeated the Detroit Lions on a questionable call, and Cowboy fans said, “One call doesn’t determine a game.”
Next week? Ball don’t lie. A still-debated call wiped out a Dez Bryant catch that would have put the Cowboys in position to beat the Green Bay Packers. Packer fans said, “I guess one call does determine a game, and you have to catch the ball.”
Next week? Ball don’t lie. The Packers just had to recover the onside kick, or catch the ball, to win. But the kick bounces off the special teamer’s hands and into Seattle’s to set up a game-tying score and overtime win. The Seahawk fans, heading for the Super Bowl, said, “You shouldn’t be in a position where your fate is determined by the ball in the air.”
Super Bowl? Ball don’t lie. The Seahawks were a yard away from the game-winning touchdown. They passed instead of running, and put their fate in an airborne ball. Interception, game over.
So that’s your crash course on “Ball don’t lie.” But I won’t be too mad if I still get this exchange.
“Kevin ...”
“What?”
“Shut. Up.”
Kevin Wilson is the managing editor of the Clovis News Journal. He can be contacted at 575-763-3431, ext. 320, or by email: