A British fellow just doesn't understand why people like cricket. He tries, he tries so hard. He knows it's his national sport. He also doesn't care much for football and rugby, and always feels left out at the pub. Then one day, he comes in early for a pint, and there's this strange game on the screen. ""What's that game up there, Albert?"" Albert looks baffled, ""why, that's baseball mate!"" He'd never seen a baseball game before. He's enchanted. He loves the geometry of the field, the green grass, FOUR beautiful bases, my word! He runs home to his wife. ""Baseball!"" he cries on his way through the door. And the bug has bit him. Bad. After a few months, he's all caught up. Not only has he watched all the World Serieseses on tape, he's seen the playoffs, highlight reels, Hall of Fame ceremonies, everything. He turns to his wife and says, ""Mabel? What would you say to moving to America?"" She's hesitant, but she agrees. His son, however, isn't so hot on the idea. But the decision has been made. They move. The man decides to go for broke and apply for a baseball job. He gets a small position at a minor league field, keeping the grounds. He's in heaven. After a few months, all the workers at the stadium notice his facility in understanding the game, and ask him if he'd be interested in becoming an umpire. He agrees. After a while, he's become one of the most beloved umps in the MLB. Nothing could be better. Except for at home. While his wife is happy with the course their life has taken, his son is depressed. He misses England, he misses his friends, he misses his old life. No amount of consolation works. It gets to the breaking point when the boy refuses to even sit upon his father's lap. Ever again. And so, sad to say, the son never sits on the British umpire.