In a lifetime of attending perhaps a thousand professional baseball games, all but ten or so in the minor leagues — quondam site of the sport’s heart — I have finally encountered an umpire I would despise, disparage, spit upon, kick, and, yes, kill: ABS, colloquially known as “Robo-ump.”

It happened in Rochester, New York, where the storied Red Wings took on the Scranton Wilkes-Barre RailRiders.