Here’s the countdown:

No. 5 — Sixth inning

Dunkirk Little League Field

Woodrow Avenue in Dunkirk

The Peter Luger Steak House in Brooklyn.

June 12, 1962

USW-CIO vs. Dunkirk Police

Pitched a no-hitter and lost to my younger brother and his Dunkirk Police teammates 5-4.

Routine, two-out, two-on, two-hop, game-ending ground ball?

Nope, not when left-handed shortstop throws wildly past first base, allowing tying and winning runs to score.

Before my dad would console me for the emotional loss, he had to yell at me.

I deserved it. I had heaved my baseball glove from the pitching mound over my team dugout as soon as the game ended to keep our team winless. Real mature 11-year-old. Not.

No. 4 — First inning

Falconer Little League Field

Friday, July 27, 1962

Dunkirk Nationals vs. Jamestown Internationals

Our all-star pitcher gave up nine runs in the opening inning.

It was single, home run, double, home run after about a dozen pitches. We never recovered.

No. 3 — First inning

Northwest Pennsylvania college

April of 1970

Pa. College vs. Fredonia State

I lasted two-thirds of the first inning in my pitching debut/finale, giving up eight runs. And this was after being called out for missing first base on what should have been a double.

No. 2 — Second inning

The Bronx, New York City

Yankee Stadium

April 18, 2009

New York vs. Cleveland

My son Matt treated me to a seat for the third home game of the first season in the new stadium.

The Indians pummeled Yankee starter Chien-Ming Wang and a reliever making his major league debut.

The Tribe erupted for 14 runs, tied for the fourth-most in an inning in big-league annals. The record is 17.

The fans behind home plate were especially vicious, loudly complaining.

“I didn’t pay $1,000 for this seat for you guys to suck,” was an oft-screeched and copied comment.

The final score was 22-4, still the worst defeat in new stadium history and second-worst for the Yankees of all time.

The day was far from a total loss, however. We toured the stadium for a few innings before leaving for Brooklyn. There Matt further treated me to a spectacular steak dinner at the world-renowned Peter Luger Steak House. Yum!

No. 1 — First inning

Little League Field somewhere on Long Island

July weekend, 1992

East Islip vs. Dunkirk

I managed several girls Little League Softball All-Star teams. We won a handful of local and district titles thanks to some very talented players and fellow coaches.

Unfortunately, my usual partner-in-crime assistant coach couldn’t get the weekend off from work and had to bail on the lengthy bus trip.

His absence prompted me to name a replacement, so I added a fellow Little League manager whose daughter was my star pitcher. What could possibly go wrong, right? (Oxymoron alert!)

We batted first and my leadoff hitter delivered a sharp single to left field.

My next hitter duplicated the feat and my third-base coach waved the runner past second and on to third.

That’s where she was thrown out by at least 10 feet.

My rookie base coach failed to realize this was a state semifinal game and our opponents were highly talented.

The only plus on the play was my hitter moved up to second base on the throw to third.

This brought up my best player and top hitter. She jumped on an early pitch and fouled it off down the left-field line.

My unlucky coach got caught watching what appeared to me to be an uncatchable ball.

While watching, he inadvertently stepped into the path of the third baseman and down she went.

The third-base umpire had no other choice but to call my top hitter “out” for coach’s interference. It was unintentional yet blatant. I couldn’t even argue the call.

But things were only gonna get worse. My cleanup hitter then stepped to the plate with two outs. She drilled a fastball to left field and my coach sent the runner from second to home.

Apparently he forgot the left fielder had a strong arm.

Yup, my runner was an easy out at home and momentum had reared its ugly head. In triplicate.

My team had three hard-hit singles and a foul ball, but thanks to my fill-in coach, we gifted them three outs.

Our team was not able to overcome that horribly bad half-inning and a long, sad overnight bus trip loomed ahead.

After the half-inning from hell, my coach slowly shuffled back over to the dugout, looking both sad and dazed.

He started to apologize, but I stopped him and joked, “Don’t worry, just think, next inning has got to be better.”

I patted him on the back and chuckled lightly. He tried to smile but just couldn’t.

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DO YOU have a favorite, funny, weird, best or worst memory of amateur sports refereeing, playing or spectating? Drop me a line at mandpp@hotmail.com and let’s reminisce.

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Bill Hammond is a former EVENING OBSERVER sports editor.