The man in Blue, boo-hoo-boo-hoo

The Man in Blue, Boo-hoo-boo-hoo

The man in Blue, boo-hoo-boo-hoo
he’s always straight, he’s always true.
No matter if it’s balls or strikes,
he’s always true, he’s always right.

On slides and tags, or batted balls,
he sees it once, he sees them all.
On grass or field, on skins or bags,
his calls are true, as they always have.

Impartial to the win or loss,
it matters not to this man so tall.
For the strength of men, and powers of might,
whose glaring looks with fists clinched tight,
will never shake this man so true,
this man of honor, this man in Blue.

Now a call is made, and upon my face,
I forgot the words of trust and faith.
No longer is this man so right,
no longer do I trust the light.

Whether safe or out, it matters not,
balls or strikes, I still forgot!
The man is wrong, boo-hoo, boo-hoo,
He’s wrong for me, but not for you!

I argue, shout and even pout,
I even wave my arms about!
But he never flinches, he only stares,
he holds his ground, and breathes the air.

“Ok”, I say, I’ve made case,
I’ve put him in his proper place.
With arms folded across my chest,
with a defiant stance, I rest my case.

Oh no, not that I sigh,
he’s leaning back, with eyes towards sky.
His arm goes back, then upward, and shouts,

“Yerrrrrr out of here… you are out!

So here I sit, all alone,
all by myself, I’m all but gone.
And I repeat to my self in the dim of light,
those words that I know are simple and right:
The man in Blue, boo-hoo-boo-hoo
he’s always straight, he’s always true.
No matter if it’s balls or strikes,
he’s always true, he’s always right.

…even if he blows a call…
This made me think of a number of umpire stories I have come across in my decades of following baseball. Some of them are hilarious, some are knuckleheaded, and others—One that just came to mind was an incident in a Brooklyn Dodgers game, in which the plate umpire thought that a particular pitcher in the dugout was riding him unmercifully. So the ump strode over to the Dodger dugout and yelled, “Van Cuyk—out!” No one responded. A little later, the ump stood on the dugout steps and once again yelled “Van Cuyk—out!” Still no answer. Finally the ump, having lost all patience, practically stormed into the dugout and hollered at the top of his voice, "VAN CUYK—OUT!"
And the Dodgers manager said to the ump, "Look, if you want to chase Van Cuyk, you’d better get a ticket for Kansas City, because that’s where I sent him yesterday!"
And that’s why they have so many of these conferences on disputed calls of one kind or another nowadays, wherein all four of the men in boo get together and have a Congressional debate.
And here’s a cute one, from the minor leagues. Before one game—I forget which two teams were playing, but I know it was in an AA league—the public address system announcer told the fans that there was going to be a little surprise for them. Just before the game, the ballpark organist started playing “Three Blind Mice”, and out of the dugouts came a parade of umpires—thirty-four in all, seventeen from each dugout. They all arrived at home plate. And then they faced the fans on both sides and let loose with a tremendous BOOOOOOOO! It seems that those umps were in town for a conference at which they were to get their assignments for the season, and believe me, they took the greatest pleasure at booing the fans for a change.
Not to mention one of my favorites. It seems that at one game Vic Raschi was pitching for the Yankees he had four balks called on him, still a league record. It was in 1952, and the umps were ordered to enforce the balk rule rather than let the Yankee pitchers get away with murder (a slight hesitation before delivering the pitch from the stretch).Raschi, of course, was thoroughly pissed off, but Allie Reynolds managed to calm him down and said that he’d put a stop to it. The next day… Reynolds was starting for the Yankees. He was on the mound with a runner on first. Reynolds got the ball—and he held on to it and held on to it and held on to it. Then he called time, stepped off the mound, went to the rosin bag and futzed with it for a few moments. Then he got back up on the rubber—and held on to the ball and held on to the ball and held on to the ball. Finally the plate umpire, who had been exhibiting an increasing restlessness, went out to the mound and asked Reynolds, "Why don’t you throw the ball?"
Reynolds replied, “I’m afraid to.” And in the dugout Raschi and Ed Lopat were absolutely cracking up.
Umpire: "What do you mean, you’re afraid to?"
Allie Pierce Reynolds, who was not afraid of anything, replied reasonably, "Because if I let go of the ball you’re going to call me for a balk."
The umpire spluttered and then burst out laughing. finally he said the hell with it, and he decreed that the Yankee pitchers—and only the Yankee pitchers—could go back to what they had been doing, coming to just a slight hesitation before delivering the ball from the stretch. :slight_smile: :slight_smile: :slight_smile: