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From 2018 to 2022, I attended a small liberal arts college on the edge of nowhere, Minnesota, called Carleton College. The combination of the college's outward quirkiness, nature-filled campus, and liberal arts mindset attracted some interesting and fascinating people. One of these people was a Wikipedia fiend--she would constantly be diving through Wikipedia to find obscure articles, interesting human experiences, and paint the web of connection in her head. One of these articles detailed the concept of an Umarell, a word I have not forgotten since. From the article:

Umarell are men of retirement age who spend their time watching construction sites, especially roadworks -- stereotypically with hands clasped behind their back and offering unwanted advice to the workers.

This article is brief, but got me thinking of a few things outside of "I want to do this if I retire." I came to the realization that I see this all of the time as a sports fan. I match the concept of an Umarell to the balding forty-something football fan that so passionately loves a team, but sees them in disrepair as the coach or offensive coordinator with years more experience and vastly more qualification call "wrong play" after "wrong play." I match it to some of the baseball fans that I talk to, decked out in gear for their favorite team while lamenting about how the team sucks and calling the season a wash after thirty games. Whenever I come across these people, regardless of age or whatever topic they're cynical about, I can't help but think of them as Umarell. Despite the fact that I run into these people far beyond earshot of managers and players, I imagine that if I balled out during my travels to games and got seats behind home plate or dugouts I would be hearing the same unsolicited advice offered to players.

I've come across a few baseball Umarell in my travels so far. Three immediately come to mind--a fifty- or sixty-year old man I saw at Guaranteed Rate Field, an older man I saw at Angels Stadium that really hated Mike Trout for reasons I still do not understand, and a 22-year-old college student at the Rogers Centre that attended the game and explained to me, an American, something positive and negative about every Blue Jay that took the field. Both literally and metaphorically, these people who knew so much about their favorite team clasped their hands and gave unsolicited advice to the players on the field. Each time, it reminded me of Italian men doing the same thing to construction workers.

Perhaps an odd connection to make, but one that I make every time.