Baseball in memory of Ron Ridd

This is a tribute to Ron Ridd in the name of baseball, family, fatherhood, and community.

Please share in an effort to show the baseball community just how strong the baseball community is. #RIPRR

Death is a humbling thing... I've never been too good with it.

But here it goes...

Some of you know me and some of you don't. My name is Matthew Simpson... or Matt... or Mattie... Maphie... Mow Mow... uncle Mow... Simpson... Slimpson... there's a bunch of funny nicknames. All of them have a story.

I'm freshly 36. Father of two and husband to one.

Son of two and brother to one.

Son-in-law of two and brother-in-law to one.

My father-in-law, Ronald Ridd passed away unexpectadly on Monday.

Some of you knew him as Ron... or Ronnie... Ridd... Ridley... Glicky... Ump... Blue... there's a bunch. And there's a good story behind each... a really good one.

Some of you didn't know him at all.

My wife knows him as Daddy and my kids know him as Boompa.

My mother-in-law knows him as husband... high school sweetheart and partner. 

Whatever you knew him as, you'll miss him... and so will I and so will everyone he touched in his 68 years. He is gone too soon.


Fatherhood does something funny to you. And even if you don't get anything more out of this page than this... I'm hoping it'll be worth the time it takes to read.

When you become a father you learn how to solve. You're forced to. You're forced to solve problems you never even knew existed.

When you become a father you learn how to protect because it's instinctual. And because you have a daughter. Then you teach your son how to protect early.


Fatherhood teaches you how to provide. Even when the odds are against you, you figure it out. When there's nothing else, you can build a fort... and provide security.

When things are tight you can turn two chicken nuggets, one hot dog, the last piece of bread and some mustard from the neighbor into an edible rocketship and provide entertainment and nourishment.

When you become a father you learn how to have fun like a kid again. You learn how to enjoy simple things. 

You learn to stop sweating the small stuff and save it for the big stuff.

When you become a father you learn how to love.

Ron knew that part before he was a father, though. 

Ridley loved baseball like it was his first, second, third and twin-born fourth and fifth child. He played growing up and turned to umpiring when his pitching career didn't quite work out.


Ron devoted his love to umpiring to any division he could get his hands on. He's been a Division One college umpire working in five different conferences. He's umpired five college regionals, stood by Tony Gwynn at SDSU and most recently worked in adult/mens leagues throughout SoCal.

Ron was the first home plate umpire when Petco Park opened in the SDSU vs. Stars tournament in 2004... to a crowd of over 40,000 people.


The love he gave to the baseball community started at an early age and grew with him. It lasted through this past Sunday. 

He was taken too soon.

Ron's love for baseball and his commitment to it's community will live on, though. Forever.

Fatherhood expanded Ron's capacity for love. It taught him how to love more. Like it's doing to me and does to many of us.

Fatherhood taught him balance like it's now teaching me. He was damn good at it.

Fatherhood taught Ron how to solve problems. Daughters have a funny way of doing that. He solved some crazy problems, too. If you know my wife you know what I'm talking about.


Somehow he figured it out, though. He made it all seem like it was no biggie.

Fatherhood taught Ridley how to protect... and teach his son to protect. It taught him how to have fun and enjoy simple things like a kid again.

Ron's love for his family and his love for baseball are eternal. He's made an everlasting impact on me and how I want to raise his grandchildren.

My time to provide.

Ron was umpiring a baseball tournament in Palm Springs over the long Memorial Day weekend. He had a couple games on Friday and Saturday. Four on Sunday.

Christine (my mother-in-law) was watching the kids on Sunday night while Lindsey and I attended a wedding shower. We planned to help our good friends move early Memorial Day morning while Christine spent more time with the kids and Ron finished the last few games of his tournament.

We'd planned to have all paths cross again in the afternoon on Memorial Day over family dinner. We were all looking forward to my son, Jake, hitting some frozen ropes (or Trolley Wires) off Boompa's pitch in the back yard.


Instead, we got a call early Memorial Day morning that none of us were ready for.

It's been a blur ever since. It's now Friday, and writing this is the longest I've been able to concentrate on any one thing since that call.

Missing Ron hasn't sunk in yet for any of us. We haven't had time to let it. It won't sink in for a good, long while.

It's my time to provide not for my immediate family... but for Ron's... or Ridley's... Boompa's... Ump's... or Blue's... and the community he stood for.

I'm looking to first cover the unexpected expenses of Ron's passing, the memorial service and the finanical burdens that come with it.

Any financial contribution you can make to this fund will help me do so.

Community is the real goal.

My intentions for creating this page and sharing our story with you is to build community through baseball.

Baseball creates a special bond between friends, families and even strangers. This bond extends past your dad and past your coach. It extends past your school or league or your favorite team.

It's a deep bond between a massive community that we all know, but sometimes take for granted.

While this story is about Ron... it's also about you. It's about all of us. It's about how baseball teaches you. It's about how baseball strengthens family. It's about precious life and it's about death. It's about fatherhood and it's about community.

My hope is that Ron's passing and this story can inspire us all to come together as a community and show each other just how far our bond extends.

As part of this amazing community, please help me share this story in an effort to show the community just how strong our bond is and how far it extends.

You can share it by email, word of mouth or through social media to anyone you feel will be inspired.

If we can accomplish this together, my goal is to make a donation in Ron's name to The Tony and Alicia Gwynn Foundation (TAG) in order to help provide financial and educational resources to underserved members of our San Diego community and around the world.

Any financial contribution you can make to this fund will help us all do so.

Help build community even if you can't donate:

#RIPRR
One of Ron's umpiring buddies started a trend by tagging "R.I.P RR" in his umpire hat. We'd like to start a social wildfire with this to show the breadth of the baseball community to his family.

You can help by tagging the same on your own hat, posting a photo of it on Facebook or Instagram with a link back this page.

Hash tag #RIPRR on your photo so we can all see how far this community stretches.

Feel free to tag his daughter, wife or me in the image and anyone else you'd like to include in the movement.

Share this page
Sharing this page on social media will help us generate the most traction in the quickest time frame. If you can't contribute and/or aren't able to post a picture, please share this page with anyone in the baseball and/or fatherhood community. 

None of us were ready to say goodbye to Ron. He wasn't ready to say to goodbye to us either. He sure did leave a good impression while he was here, though.

Please help me support my father-in-law Ron, his legacy and the entire baseball community.

I've never been challenged directly by death, but I am doing my best to solve for it in the name of baseball and in the name of Ron Ridd.

Thank you for your help.

God Bless Baseball
God Bless Ron Ridd / #RIPRR

**This is one of the latest pictures I have of Ron, balancing his love for baseball and family on his birthday at one of my sons last baseball games of the season.

I'll miss having you at the games, Ron.... and I'll do my best to provide for the family.



For those interested in attending, the Memorial Service will be held on Thursday, June 9th at 10 a.m. at Living Way Church  in Poway, California.