I seen some pitchers scared of my bat
Paint the corners, standing pat
What about them “unwritten rules”?
Pitch me straight and you’ll get schooled
Oh baby, that’s hard to change
I can’t tell them how to pitch
High inside, low away
Sooner or later, I’ll crush that bitch
Walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on . . .
Walk Proud, My Man!
For: My Uncle Lee Snider;
The Village Elliott: 5/10/16
Though might seem a Clown Answer, this fan
Would walk Harper each at bat he can
Once Bryce gets his fourth ball,
He can walk proud and tall,
As fans praise, ” Walk proud with four balls, Man!”
My father died in April, 1967, just a month after my sixteenth birthday. A year later, my mother and I moved to a new, “more yiddisha” condominium project in West St Louis County, in part because my father’s two sisters and brothers-in-law did, too. I became very close with an uncle I had always very much liked. Uncle Lee was married to Dad’s kid sister,Gertrude, known as the Greatest Cardinal Fan in the Kolker Clan. Childless themselves, Lee became my Surrogate Father.
Lee was very funny, but had a reputation for periodically getting “Too Shikker,” and a mean, insulting drunk at that. If he didn’t slide too far-too quickly over the line, which was more an on-off switch than rheostat, he was as “Blue” and funny as Buddy Hackett or Jackie Mason. If he did…The one time I remember he did, he would not allow me to visit, lest he irreparably ruin or friendship.
___________________-
Uncle Lee’s favorite joke: On a first date a man convinces a young innocent, who does not drink and knows nothing about baseball, to attend the ballgame. During the game, he has to explain everything that is going on to someone:
1) Doesn’t have a clue as to what is going on, and
2) He has talked into having a few beers as “part of the Tradition”,
although you get the idea this particular Tradition has nothing to do with this National Pastime, but the Other One.
She is having a great time, discovers that she enjoys the game, and is doing her best to learn the game and keep up, both with his game commentary, and the beer, for she discovers she enjoys drinking even more.
Along about the fifth inning, by which time she is a “well-seasoned” veteran, the first walk of the game is issued. “What is that?” she wondered out loud.
“That is a base on balls,” the man explained. “Once the batter has four balls on him, he walks to first base.”
Without saying a thing, the woman stands tall and screams loud enough for everyone in the immediate three sections to hear, “Walk proudly, you bastard. Walk proudly!”
________________________
In the summer of ’68, Lee, Gert, Mom and I attended a ballgame at the new, two-year old, downtown Busch Stadium. We had good seats, down the left field line, two rows in behind the plate section of the Cardinals bullpen. Lee had a few beers to “loosen up,” And he got loose, regaling all with his wit and running commentary. I was his best audience, and no one else was more captivated than the Boys in the Pen, themselves, who paid close attention.
Lee was keeping it together pretty well, although poor Aunt Gert grew more and more alarmed in anticipation of that which experience taught her to expect shortly. About the sixth, when a Cardinal drew a walk,the inevitable occurred. The fourth ball evidently flipped the switch as Lee popped up and screamed “Walk proud, you bastard, walk proud.”
The bullpen loved it, I about peed in my pants, and my mother suppressed a smile and giggle, while poor, mortified Aunt Gert turned red, grabbed Lee by the belt, yanked him down in his chair and scolded, “That is enough drinking for you!” He did not say a thing until we were halfway home, at which time he apologized for his boorish behavior,
A few days later, while we were alone, he repeated his apology. I assured him that not only did he have
nothing for which to apologize, but I loved it, and so did the bullpen.
I had not thought of that for a long time, but remembered it in the wake of Harper’s intentional walks.
Walk Proudly, Young Man!
For: My Uncle Lee Snider;
The Village Elliott: 5/10/16
Though might seem a Clown Answer, this fan
Would walk Harper each at bat he can
Once Bryce gets his fourth ball,
He can walk proud and tall,
As fans praise, ” Walk proud with four balls, Man!”
My father died in April, 1967, just a month after my sixteenth birthday. A year later, my mother and I moved to a new, “more yiddisha” condominium project in West St Louis County, in part because my father’s two sisters and brothers-in-law did, too. I became very close with an uncle I had always very much liked. Uncle Lee was married to Dad’s kid sister,Gertrude, known as the Greatest Cardinal Fan in the Kolker Clan. Childless themselves, Lee became my Surrogate Father.
Lee was very funny, but had a reputation for periodically getting “Too Shikker,” and a mean, insulting drunk at that. If he didn’t slide too far-too quickly over the line, which was more an on-off switch than rheostat, he was as “Blue” and funny as Buddy Hackett or Jackie Mason. If he did…The one time I remember he did, he would not allow me to visit, lest he irreparably ruin or friendship.
___________________-
Uncle Lee’s favorite joke: On a first date a man convinces a young innocent, who does not drink and knows nothing about baseball, to attend the ballgame. During the game, he has to explain everything that is going on to someone:
1) Doesn’t have a clue as to what is going on, and
2) He has talked into having a few beers as “part of the Tradition”,
although you get the idea this particular Tradition has nothing to do with this National Pastime, but the Other One.
She is having a great time, discovers that she enjoys the game, and is doing her best to learn the game and keep up, both with his game commentary, and the beer, for she discovers she enjoys drinking even more.
Along about the fifth inning, by which time she is a “well-seasoned” veteran, the first walk of the game is issued. “What is that?” she wondered out loud.
“That is a base on balls,” the man explained. “Once the batter has four balls on him, he walks to first base.”
Without saying a thing, the woman stands tall and screams loud enough for everyone in the immediate three sections to hear, “Walk proudly, you bastard. Walk proudly!”
________________________
In the summer of ’68, Lee, Gert, Mom and I attended a ballgame at the new, two-year old, downtown Busch Stadium. We had good seats, down the left field line, two rows in behind the plate section of the Cardinals bullpen. Lee had a few beers to “loosen up,” And he got loose, regaling all with his wit and running commentary. I was his best audience, and no one else was more captivated than the Boys in the Pen, themselves, who paid close attention.
Lee was keeping it together pretty well, although poor Aunt Gert grew more and more alarmed in anticipation of that which experience taught her to expect shortly. About the sixth, when a Cardinal drew a walk,the inevitable occurred. The fourth ball evidently flipped the switch as Lee popped up and screamed “Walk proud, you bastard, walk proud.”
The bullpen loved it, I about peed in my pants, and my mother suppressed a smile and giggle, while poor, mortified Aunt Gert turned red, grabbed Lee by the belt, yanked him down in his chair and scolded, “That is enough drinking for you!” He did not say a thing until we were halfway home, at which time he apologized for his boorish behavior,
A few days later, while we were alone, he repeated his apology. I assured him that not only did he have
nothing for which to apologize, but I loved it, and so did the bullpen.
I had not thought of that for a long time, but remembered it in the wake of Harper’s intentional walks.
Somehow this was double-sent.