ump once. He refused to call a corner pitch for me. I finally shook off everything. My catcher knew what came next. He signaled me the middle finger. I nodded. He set up for a curve ball over the outer part of the plate, in a very low squat, glove turned up like he was blocking a pitch that would be bouncing in front of him. I then zipped a fast ball over his left shoulder and caught the ump in the facemask as my catcher made a flimsy attempt at catching it, and scolded me for missing a signal. The ump’s head snapped back and he was on his back as he tried to clear the cobwebs. He got the message.