Last Thursday, Philadelphia Neighborhoods was in attendance as the Cruz Cardinals hosted Ramonita Rivera at the Cruz Recreational Center at Sixth and Master streets in Ludlow.
I love baseball. I was psyched when our team decided to cover an inner-city youth baseball game as our first real event in Ludlow. The memories I have of Little League are some of my fondest, I wish I could still play for a Little League team. I remember everything: playing the games, sitting on the bench, listening to the crowd. I remember how those games brought communities together, how it gave busy parents an excuse to get together and enjoy a simple game, even if only for a few hours.
I knew we were likely in for some excitement. Cruz's head coach, George Jones, had warned us what could happen in the occurrence of poor umpiring.

He said that when an umpire consistently made bad calls that ultimately cost the team wins—which has apparently happened several times this season—there is often a general feeling among players and parents alike that the team is being cheated. I knew he wasn’t kidding when I saw Cruz’s Director of Recreation, Michael McKeown, hanging a large black cover over the backstop prior to the game.
“To cut down second-guessing of the ump,” he told me.
For the most part the game went along without incident. The atmosphere wasn’t unlike the Little League games of my childhood. I felt right at home. The umpire didn’t seem too bad, either. He missed a few calls here and there, but hey, this isn’t the majors. I did notice that several of the parents and assistant coaches were growing impatient with the umpire’s balls and strikes, but when doesn’t that happen in baseball?
It all boiled over in the game's final inning. The Cardinals had been facing a large deficit for most of the game, but were attempting to stage a late-game rally with the help of some wild opposing pitching.
The bases were loaded. There were two outs. The Cardinals had scored most of their runs in the inning by stealing home, the runner on third had a large lead, undoubtedly hoping to continue the trend. Sure enough, the ball hit the dirt in front of the catcher, bouncing over his head and rolling to the backstop.
The runner sprinted for home. The catcher found the ball and flipped it to the pitcher--who was correctly covering home—just as the runner dropped into his slide.
The umpire called the final out of the game. The Cardinal’s bench exploded in anger. It had appeared that the runner had managed to slip under the tag. It was a close play, but in my fair and balanced opinion: the runner was safe.
I was standing in the outfield at the time. I spent the last two innings out there with my camera, filming home plate from the center fielder’s perspective. The camera captured the play perfectly.
I don’t know how many times I was forced to show the play at the plate after the game. Every player, parent, sibling, and even the coach (who wants a copy as evidence for an official protest) wanted to see the play for themselves. It seemed as if the whole team and all its supporters were crowding around, asking to watch and re-watch what will surely come to be known at Cruz as "the play."
After that, even the people who had before wanted nothing to do with the camera couldn’t get enough of it. Suddenly, with one bad call at the plate, I was able to provide this team with something that even the finest youth organizations don’t have:

I brought instant replay to Little League baseball.