University of Nebraska - Lincoln DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska - Lincoln University of Nebraska Press -- Sample Books and University of Nebraska Press Chapters 2014 Called Out but Safe Al Clark Dan Schlossberg Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/unpresssamples Clark, Al and Schlossberg, Dan, "Called Out but Safe" (2014). University of Nebraska Press -- Sample Books and Chapters. 259. http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/unpresssamples/259 This Article is brought to you for free and open access by the University of Nebraska Press at DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska - Lincoln. It has been accepted for inclusion in University of Nebraska Press -- Sample Books and Chapters by an authorized administrator of DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska - Lincoln. Called Out but Safe Buy the Book Buy the Book Called Out but Safe A Baseball Umpire’s Journey Al Clark with Dan Schlossberg Foreword by Marty Appel University of Nebraska Press | Lincoln and London Buy the Book © 2014 by Al Clark and Dan Schlossberg. Foreword © 2014 by the Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska. Appendix information courtesy of Retrosheet. Frontispiece: Cartoon by Ronnie Joyner. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data Clark, Al, 1948– Called out but safe: a baseball umpire’s journey / Al Clark with Dan Schlossberg; foreword by Marty Appel. pages cm isbn 978- 0- 8032- 4688- 1 (cloth: alk. paper)— isbn 978- 0- 8032- 5496- 1 (pdf)— isbn 978- 0- 8032- 5497- 8 (epub)— isbn 978- 0- 8032- 5498- 5 (mobi) 1. Clark, Al, 1948– 2. Baseball umpires— United States— Biography. I. Schlossberg, Dan, 1948– II. Title. gv865.c4365a3 2014 796.357092— dc23 [B] 2013046023 Set in Minion Pro by Renni Johnson. Designed by A. Shahan. Buy the Book In April of 1999 my mom, Shirley, passed away. With my dad, Herb, still very much alive then, that was my first experience at losing a parent. Usually at a parent’s funeral, the regrets heard in a eulogy from a son or daughter are, “I wish I would have told them how much I loved them,” or, “I wish I could have made them proud.” The truth is both of them knew how much I loved them, and I know how proud they were of me. During my mom’s eulogy, my brother Jeff mentioned one regret that rang true for all three of her sons: “Mom taught us how to hit a baseball and Dad taught us how to drive.” We really wish it had been the other way around. For sure, that is our only regret. My parents were not only wonderful and loving but true lifelong friends. Mom and Dad, thank you for mapping the road to an amazing and blessed life. This book is dedicated to your loving memory. AL CLARK My parents were my inspiration too. As an only child, I could have inherited my dad’s radiology practice in the skyscraper (and the only remaining Art Deco building) in downtown Passaic, New Jersey. But that was not to be— not for a boy who found writing a breeze but struggled with math and science courses. Against their advice to pursue law (because I was so argumentative) or some other lucrative occupation, I chose journalism, the only career that could bring me into a baseball world I could not attain as an athlete. I still remember my dad talking about watching Carl Hubbell and the New York Giants in the Polo Grounds. And I remember watching the 1957 World Series with him on a black-and- white Zenith with the sound turned off. His quiet but detailed explanations turned me into a fan. Had that not happened, I never would have met Al Clark, who will be a cherished friend for life. So thanks again, Miriam and Ezra, for putting up with a boy’s dreams and helping him realize them. My work on this book is dedicated to you. I only wish you were here to read it. DAN SCHLOSSBERG Buy the Book Buy the Book Contents Foreword ix Preface xiii Acknowledgments xvii Introduction xxi 1. The Family Clark 1 2. Getting Started 13 3. The Art of Umpiring 24 4. Dressing the Part 54 5. My Office 59 6. Names and Games 66 7. Wives, Women, and Song 81 8. The Yiddishe Umpire 85 9. Billy, Earl, and a Few Dicks 93 10. Bucky F. Dent 109 11. Labor Pains 113 12. Quaking in My Boots 122 13. A Texas Connection 129 14. Lights Out in Baltimore 133 15. The Iron Man 139 16. Credit Denied 145 17. Jailhouse Rock 151 18. Lasting Impressions 176 Epilogue 193 Appendix 195 Buy the Book Buy the Book Foreword When people talk about “inside baseball” or “the inner game,” they’re referring to what’s really happening on the field while the fans in the stands and even the media members sit clueless as to the hidden intrigue. Most players have histories with opponents. Perhaps an alter- cation might have taken place while they were in the Minors or in high school or college. Maybe some score was left unsettled. Or some wild night on the town forever bonded the two souls suddenly facing each other. Player- umpire relationships are like that, too. They’ve always intrigued me. For one thing, how do players, coaches, and managers learn the names of the umpires? Umps are seldom announced, even though their names usually appear on the scoreboard before a game. Rookies are rarely introduced to umpires, as in “Choo Choo, meet Augie Donatelli!” But players do learn umpire names, grunt out greetings, and on occasion even hear, “He’s a straight shooter. He gives you a lot of space to make your point, he’s not trigger- happy, and he calls a good game.” Occasionally. More often, players and umpires have a Minor League history that isn’t fully forgotten. Players hear that so- and- so is a “terrible umpire” and the rea- son they’re hitting .211 is the fault of an umpire with a ridiculous excuse for a strike zone. Sort of like the reason you’ve had your license suspended three times is that the cops are picking on you when you’re only driving ninety- one miles per hour. Smart players learn umpires’ names. ix Buy the Book Al Clark was easy because his first name was on his cap. When the leagues had distinct umpiring crews, Al worked for the Amer- ican League and his hat read al. He also wore glasses. Good grief. The single biggest point of ridicule for old-time umps was the suggestion by managers or players that the culprit couldn’t see straight— it was unheard of for any ump to be caught dead in glasses. Unlike players, whose reflexes start to fade around the age of forty, umpires often last decades longer. I can only imagine how those old- time umpires must have dreaded the aging process, when a little lens assistance would surely have been welcome. Al Clark not only wore glasses and had his name on his head, but was the son of the only form of human life players consider lower than an umpire: a sportswriter. And did I mention he was Jewish? Herb Clark, a gifted journalist with the Trenton (New Jersey) newspapers, covered the Yankees from a perch in the Yankee Stadium press box. As the team’s public relations director, I sat next to him on many occasions and heard of his love of the game in general and the Yankees in particular. Herb knew his stuff, knew the history, and was an engaging fellow with whom to watch a game. When Al Clark made his umpiring debut at Yankee Stadium, I poked Herb in the ribs and joked, “Any relation?” “Yeah,” he said. “He’s my son.” You could have knocked me over with a ball- and- strike indicator. “You have a son who’s an umpire?” I asked. “A Major League umpire?” All of us in the press box started paying special attention to Herb’s son, who went on to work in the Majors. A solid profes- sional, he led the tough life of a sports official, both enamored of the glamor of the big leagues and cautiously distancing himself from it. I learned from Eric Gregg, the gregarious National League umpire with whom I wrote a book, what a lonely life an ump x foreword Buy the Book could lead. He traveled in groups of four, never mixed with play- ers, and had few friends in each city— if he had any at all. He hoped to do his job in relative obscurity because that was a sign of nothing having gone wrong. At the ends of their careers, umpires tend to be measured by the big games in which they appeared, even if they had little to do with those history-making events. They are also measured by the postseason and All- Star games for which they are selected— often by seniority or rotation. They are treated well in the box scores, where their first and last names are listed. Players see only their last names. Players also see how to behave— or risk ejection by the um- pires. Our man Al was rather conservative, tossing only sixty-five offenders in the course of twenty- six years, but one of those of- fenders was the mild- mannered Cal Ripken Jr. He’ll tell you what happened later in this book. The ultimate measure of an umpire is the character of the man and the day- to- day respect he earned within his profession.