Jocko

by Jocko Conlan, Robert W. Creamer

The ultimate umpire relives the good old days on the diamond. Jocko Conlan was an outfielder for the Chicago White Sox when, one afternoon in 1936, he became an umpire. Thus began a career lasting more than a quarter century, most of it with the National League. Through the skillful writing of Robert W. Creamer, the ebullient Jocko makes his many years of umpiring so real that the reader can smell the peanuts and hear the swat of the ball. Jocko is packed with funny stories about famous players and the beleaguered umpire’s lot.

Genres: Baseball, Sports

246 pages, Paperback

First published March 1, 1997

Reviews

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

I figured that an autobiography of a 20th century Irish-American umpire named "Jocko" (co-authored by the phenomenal baseball writer Robert Creamer) would be filled with salty stories and salty language. While the book had its moments, it read like it had been sanitized for my protection with the exception of Conlan's descriptions of his issues with Leo Durocher, and his frustrations with Jackie Robinson (which felt to me very much like the heavily-coded prejudices of a white man of his time). If there were tapes made of Creamer's interviews with Conlan, I would very much like to hear them. This book holds back too much.

[Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jocko Conlan played professional baseball and then was an umpire for decades in the majors. While he called them as he saw them, Conlan had the respect of the players and managers, even though some of them gave him a hard time. This book is partially a biography, but it is mostly a collection of memories of when he was a man wearing blue. Since he umpired from 1941 to 1965 in the National League, in the minors before that and five World Series and six All-Star Games, Conlan was able to observe nearly all of the great players in those years. As a retired umpire, he can now openly express his opinion of players, managers, executives and owners.
Conlan’s observations are from a perspective not often seen, which makes this book an interesting retrospective of how baseball was played and how the great players acted. Conlan’s arch-enemy on the field was Leo Durocher and his description of the incident where he and Durocher literally got into a shin-kicking contest on the field is a great story.
Yet more revealing are his interactions with some of the great players. There is an instance when Conlan calls a third strike on Ted Williams, the man considered to have the greatest understanding of the strike zone. Williams was also known for his temper when something went wrong. When the manager came out to argue the call, Williams quickly silenced him by saying, “It was a strike, I should have swung.” That is a demonstration of class that one rarely hears about Williams.
Since Conlan played when pitchers could still throw the spitball and claimed he could recognize one by the movement, his debunking of the prevalence must be taken seriously. Conlan also is emphatic in arguing against throwing the beanball, if there is something about baseball that he clearly hates, it is the tactic of throwing a pitch at a batter’s head.
This is definitely a book that can be given the subtitle, “Inside Baseball.”