Al Clark - Called Out but Safe

I was pleased that Al Clark was the home-plate umpire in my three hundredth win and even more pleased when he gave me the lineup card afterward. I always considered him a good umpire and a good guy.

Nolan Ryan, Hall of Fame pitcher

Al Clark never threw me out of a game, but Billy Martin wasnt so fortunate. I not only witnessed his confrontations with Al but enjoyed remembering them in this book.

Ron Blomberg, first designated hitter

Some of the nicest conversations Ive had in forty-two years of baseball have been with umpires. I loved any time spent with my friend Al Clark. Enjoy some great baseball stories from a man who once had a front-row seat in our great game.

Chris Wheeler, Phillies broadcaster

Called Out but Safe

Called Out but Safe

A Baseball Umpires Journey

Al Clark with Dan Schlossberg

Foreword by Marty Appel

University of Nebraska Press | Lincoln and London

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

Cover image Ted Mathias/ AFP /Getty Images

Author photo courtesy of Al Clark and Dan Schlossberg

All rights reserved

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Clark, Al, 1948

Called out but safe: a baseball umpires 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 umpiresUnited StatesBiography. I. Schlossberg, Dan, 1948 II. Title.

GV 865. C 4365 A 3 2014

796.357092dc23

[B]

2013046023

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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 parents 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 moms 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 dads radiology practice in the skyscraper (and the only remaining Art Deco building) in downtown Passaic, New Jersey. But that was not to benot 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 boys 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

Contents

Illustrations

Foreword

When people talk about inside baseball or the inner game, theyre referring to whats 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 altercation 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. Theyve 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, Hes a straight shooter. He gives you a lot of space to make your point, hes not trigger-happy, and he calls a good game. Occasionally.

More often, players and umpires have a Minor League history that isnt fully forgotten.

Players hear that so-and-so is a terrible umpire and the reason theyre hitting .211 is the fault of an umpire with a ridiculous excuse for a strike zone. Sort of like the reason youve had your license suspended three times is that the cops are picking on you when youre only driving ninety-one miles per hour.

Smart players learn umpires names.

Al Clark was easy because his first name was on his cap. When the leagues had distinct umpiring crews, Al worked for the American 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 couldnt see straightit 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 teams 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. Hes my son.

You could have knocked me over with a ball-and-strike indicator.

You have a son whos an umpire? I asked. A Major League umpire?

All of us in the press box started paying special attention to Herbs son, who went on to work in the Majors. A solid professional, 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 could lead. He traveled in groups of four, never mixed with players, and had few friends in each cityif he had any at all. He hoped to do his job in relative obscurity because that was a sign of nothing having gone wrong.