So, I remember this one time, work was just grinding me down. You know those weeks where everything feels like wading through mud? Trying to get simple things done felt like a massive fight, dealing with folks who just wouldn’t listen. I was getting pretty wound up, needed to clear my head somehow.
I had these Reds tickets sitting on my counter for ages. A buddy gave them to me, couldn’t go himself. On a whim, I decided, screw it, I’m going. Didn’t even check who they were playing. Just wanted to get out, maybe have a beer, yell at some strangers in different jerseys, you know? Escape the usual routine.
Got to the stadium, found my seat. It was just a regular game, nothing too special happening early on. I wasn’t super locked into every pitch, more just enjoying being outside. But then I started kind of focusing on the dugout, watching David Bell.
Watching the Buildup
He has this way about him, even when things are calm. You can kinda see the intensity simmering there. There were a couple of calls, borderline stuff, that went against the Reds. First time, he just popped out, said a few words to the ump, quick and sharp, then went back. Didn’t make a huge scene. But the second time, a close play at first base, he stayed out there a bit longer. Body language was stiffer. More pointing. You could just feel the temperature rising. It wasn’t like I was trying to predict anything, just observing. It felt familiar, like watching someone get closer and closer to the edge after a rough day.
The Ejection Itself
Then came the big one. I think it was a strike call on a checked swing that really set him off. It looked iffy from where I sat. Bell didn’t even pause. He shot out of that dugout like a cannonball. Straight for the home plate umpire. Arms waving, face red, the whole nine yards. Couldn’t hear exactly what was being screamed, but man, it was heated. The ump listened for maybe five seconds, then gave him the toss. Just like that. Boom, ejected. Bell kicked some dirt, yelled a bit more for good measure, then finally stalked off down the tunnel. The crowd went nuts, some cheering, some booing the ump. Classic baseball drama.
And sitting there, watching him absolutely lose it… it was weirdly relatable. Not the getting kicked out part, specifically. But just that pure, unfiltered frustration boiling over. That feeling of “I am DONE with this nonsense.” It kind of mirrored how I’d been feeling internally all week about my own stupid battles at work. It was raw. Maybe not productive for the team in that moment, but definitely human.
- Seeing him argue
- The quick hook from the ump
- Kicking the dirt – pure frustration
Left the ballpark later, and honestly, I felt a bit better. Not like my problems were solved, they were still waiting for me. But watching that ejection, seeing that level of passion, even if it meant getting thrown out, it was… something. A reminder that sometimes things just get under your skin, and you react. Maybe it’s about knowing when to fight, when to walk away, or just accepting that sometimes, you just gotta kick a little dirt yourself. Still picture him storming off sometimes.
