Baseball poetry: 2B or Not 2B

August 14, 2007

With the passing of Phil “The Scooter” Rizzuto today, I thought it appropriate to “reprint” a precious entry on his “poetry-inspired” book, O Holy Cow.

—–

A program on the Feb. 10, 2007 broadcast of NPR’s Only a Game had an interesting topic, Shakepeare as Sport. It reminded me of a review I did on the Bard of Avon, as well as another poet of the diamond.”

Shakespeare on Baseball, compiled by David Goodnough (Barricade Books)

O Holy Cow: The Selected Verse Of Phi Rizzuto, edited by Tom Peyer and Hart Seely (The Ecco Press)

Finally, a little bit of culture smites the national pastime.

Often have I wondered during those interminably long meetings on the mound how William Shakespeare might have covered the game.

Shakespeare While the current poet laureates of the broadcast booth have been entertaining listeners and viewers since radio and television have been presenting the action, they pale in comparison. Sorry Vin Scully, Al Michaels, Jon Miller and Bob Costas, but you know in your heart of hearts it’s true.

David Goodnough has compiled some relevant passages from the Bard to describe everyday occurrences on the diamond as well as some of the personalities of the game. Shakespeare describes Babe Ruth thus: “Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow earth, like a Colossus (Julius Caesar)

“What a piece of work,” says Hamlet, regarding the enigmatic Rickey Henderson. And The Winter’s Tale has Cal Ripken Jr. pegged: “He has his health, and ampler strength indeed than most men have of his age.”

Shakespeare apparently even considered what Hector Lopez, a shaky outfielder with the powerhouse Yankees of the 1960s, would say when calling for a fly ball: “Hector shall have a great catch, and knock out either of your brains” (Troilus and Cressida).

Wouldn’t it be refreshing if managers, umpires and players spoke so eloquently in the heat of battle? A manager, outraged at a close call against his team at the plate: “That’s monstrous: O, that that were out!” (The Two Gentlemen of Verona). Or how about an umpire to an irksome manager: “I beseech your, sir, harm not yourself with your vexation. I am senseless of your wrath” (Cymbeline). I wonder what Earl Weaver would make of that one.

Some of the quotes seem a bit forced, but overall Shakespeare on Baseball delivers, in the words of Hamlet’s Osric, “A hit, a very palpable hit.”

—–

Holy_cow Every ballclub has a team of announcers who fit loosely into the following categories: the play-by-by-play man, who informs the viewer of the situations on the field as they unfold, and the color man, the analyst who describes the subtleties of the game, the meaning behind the strategies. They offer the instant criticism (“I don’t know what he was thinking on that play.”)

Sometimes there’s a third man in the booth, the former ballplayer, who informs the fan how very different the game when he wore the flannels, as well as providing other anecdotal nostalgia (“That reminds me of situation back in 1947 when Sibby Sisti….”). Sometimes there are additional people, and usually the crew switches off “to carry you along for the next three innings.” Every team has its colorful character who can’t seem to get the words of out his mouth quickly or make them express exactly what he means, such as Jerry Coleman, renown for such calls as: “Winfield goes back to the wall. He hits his head on the wall, and it rolls off! It’s rolling all the way back to second base! This is a terrible thing for the Padres.”

But is there anyone who compares with Phil “The Scooter” Rizzuto, the ex-Yankee shortstop, perennial Hall of Fame candidate and 30-year veteran of Yankees broadcasts? Well, Tom Peyer and Hart Seely, who have compiled some of these gems for the Village Voice, have put together some of these finer moments in O Holy Cow: The Selected Verse of Phil Rizzuto.”

Known for his admonishment of dumb ballplayers, fans and broadcasting partners as “huckleberries,” Rizzuto is legendary for his rambling reminiscences, birthday wishes and other tangential musings. His “poems” are excerpted from games, which are listed along with the strategic scenarios at the moment of his inspirations. Some of them might make the reader wonder if Mr. Rizzuto might not be ready for the padded cell rather than the broadcast booth. Here’s one, chosen totally at random, called “Colorado”:

They’re having more snow
Out in Colorado
Which is not in Montana.
But it is not far from Montana.

Some of the contributions are rather poignant, such as “Poem No. 61” which recounts Maris’ historic moment, and “Prayer for the Captain,” which followed the death of Thurman Munson in 1979. The titles the editors give to these verses are good setups, coaxing the reader towards the punch line.

The ninety-four poems reflect Rizzuto’s ability to change trains of thought with frightening speed and then try to scramble to regain his equilibrium. It’s easy for one who has seem him in action on TV to say, “Yup, yup, that’s exactly it.” But those out of the loop can still get a sense of “The Scooter” and enjoy this little collection.

After O Holy Cow, how long will it be before other broadcast poets produce their own collections, one day to take their place alongside Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Shelley? Are they any less relevant? In the words and spirit of the Bronx Bard:

A little disconcerting
Smelling that pizza,
And trying
To do a ball game.

These reviews previously appeared on Purebaseball.com.

0Shares

{ 1 comment }

1 Eric Paddon August 14, 2007 at 5:53 pm

Godspeed, Scooter. You will be missed.

I enjoyed the “O Holy Cow” compilation of Rizzuto as poet so much that it inspired me to go through my vast collection of radio and TV tapes of Rizzuto’s broadcasts through the decades and look for more examples. For instance, this gem from a nondescript 1971 Angels-Yankees contest called “Subterfuge.”

Well,
We get a note from the opposition, here!
Very friendly people.

Yankee pitching has retired
The last twenty-six Angels in a row.

That’s right.
The last fifteen,
Went down in order
Against Yankee pitching last night.
Only after the Angels had scored their nine runs.

And eleven today.
Ten.

And he would give me that note!
YOU HUCKLEBERRY!
He just gave me the note!
And Spencer hits a ground rule double
In the right field seats.
One bounce into the seats.

Now that’s what you call jinxing the Yankees!
Here I thought the opposition
Was trying to be friendly.
And they’re laughing over there!

May 12, 1971
California at New York
Stan Bahnsen pitching to Jim Spencer
4th Inning, one out, bases empty
No score

And from his last season, 1996, he was the poet to the end in this one called “A .500 Average”

I.

THAT’S GONE!
No it’s not.
Holy cow.
I thought my eyes
Since I had that operation–
Cerone
Why didn’t you hit me
Or tell me to shut my mouth?
Nothing.
NOTHING is worse
Than an announcer saying that’s gone
And then somebody catches it.

II.

Oooh!
That sounded like a home run.
No it didn’t.
Now you can’t get me out of this, Mike.
Oh that was really—
Yes I know it.
So there are two away,
And Paul O’Neill the batter.
Lefties do not bother him,
Especially this type of a lefthander
The way he throws overhanded.
The sidearmers—
There, now that’s gone!
THAT’S GONE!
I’m—
One for two!
HOLY COW!
Ohhhhh,
Atta’ boy!
Got me off the hook.
Come on Cerone, talk about O’Neill.

July 4, 1996
Milwaukee at New York
Scott Karl pitching to Derek Jeter
1st inning, one out, no baserunners
Brewers lead 1-0
(Jeter flied to left; Paul O’Neill homered)

Comments on this entry are closed.

{ 1 trackback }

Previous post:

Next post:

script type="text/javascript"> var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-5496371-4']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();