Other privileges that MLB catchers must earn from home plate umpires

This week, the Yankees’ Russell Martin stripped a lugnut after home plate ump Laz Diaz refused to let him throw new balls to the pitcher, claiming Martin hadn’t earned the “privilege." So was revealed a great hidden tradition of the game. In fact, veteran catchers earn many “privileges” from umpires, such as:

Calling Cheese. In the heat of combat, the ever-squatting receiver often feels the need to free the pressurized gasola that accumulated from last night’s taco bar. The catcher with good umping relations is allowed not only to openly rip, but to preface it with a quip, such as "Who let the dogs out!” or “You’ve got mail!"

Back-rub. The vet backstop with "fave-nation" status is eligible for an occasional kneading of the shoulders, stress relief that adds years to a career. Nothing calms an 0-for-5 like the experienced fingers of a Ron Luciano tapping out an Elton John solo on his catcher’s ecstastic backside. They say Johnny Bench had to be ordered to retire. 

Intellectual conversation. No self-respecting, "Fox and Friends"-educated ump wastes his time talking politics to a rookie catchertard. The kids of today don't listen to Rush. But the elder statemen of the game can appreciate a long diatribe on John Edwards' hair and whatever else tops the Drudge Report. Of course, the umps all learned not to let I-Rod get onto the subject of Ron Paul.

Holiday cards. It takes years, sometimes decades, for thorny, hard-bitten umps to soften up and acknowledge that they do care. So when a catcher opens that Hallmark card, with the gift certificate to Aldi's, it means something special.

Poon-spotting. The veteran squatter knows he’s hit the Bigs when his loyal "wing man in blue" takes the time to tip him off to a bleacher-seat flashing of the Promised Land. Often, as he brooms off home plate, an ump will give the coordinates, without pointing, so they can each turn to share their views of the Canyon of Heroes. 

Smoking. Nothing shouts "I respect you!" more than an ump who lets the catcher light up a Joe Camel during an at-bat. Of course, political incorrectness has made this tougher, and it requires stealth. The great Roy Campanella used to smoke a pack an inning, and the umps would flick their Bics to light him up on a called strike three. 

Drinking. Responsibly. Of course.