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Pies in the face? Not in
the days of DiMaggio
of TheColumnists.com
Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig,
Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle are spinning in their graves.
The Yankees, winners of 39 pennants and 26 World Championships,
have become the pie-in-the-eye team instead of the Bronx Bombers.
Sure they are hitting plenty of home runs and blowing away the
opposition in their first season at the new Yankee Stadium but
they are celebrating with cream puffs in the face instead of
dignity in their deeds.
Every Yankee triumph, especially those last at bat, dramatic
finishes, now called by the silly term of walkoff victories,
are marked by the splashing of pie in the face of the hero by
newly acquired pitcher A. J. Burnett, alias Allan James Burnett
of North Little Rock, Arkansas.
He came to the Yankees as an expensive free agent with an 87-76
big league record, an 18 game winning season last year, a 2001
no hitter and a juvenile personality.
He never gets pie-eyed because he is never around at the end
of the game as baseball pitchers going six innings are now considered
stars.
Burnett sneaks up on the game-winning player, always interviewed
on the field, with a pie in one hand and a towel in the other.
The reaction is to duck and it is certain before season’s
end that a finger will wind up in the player’s eye.
Imagine the Yankees missing Derek Jeter in the playoffs with
an eye injury caused by a floating finger during a pie attack.
Imagine still, a pitcher of little note pushing a pie in the
bulbous nose of Babe Ruth, the stoic face of Lou Gehrig, the
slick hair of Joe DiMaggio or the blond locks of Mickey Mantle.
DiMaggio set the tone for Yankee dignity in his Hall of Fame
career from 1936 through 1951 with time out for World War II
service. He never walked on the field without his pressed pinstripes
and shined shoes.
DiMaggio took his dignity so seriously he never moved from the
clubhouse to the field without a final glance at the floor length
clubhouse mirror. The Clipper had to look right or the Clipper
wouldn’t get on the field before his public. DiMaggio believed
in the Billy Crystal edict, “It is better to look good than
be good.”
DiMaggio once had a bruise from sliding on his backside and before
pulling up his uniform pants he addressed longtime clubhouse
custodian Pete Sheehy. “Pete,” DiMaggio said, “take
a look at this thing. Is it turning red?”
“Yeah,” replied the clubhouse guru, “it’s
from all those guys kissing your ass.”
DiMaggio led the league in vanity as well as dignity. But he
did set a tone for the Yankees that has lasted until the most
recent years. Jeter and retired Bernie Williams represented the
DiMaggio tradition until the present.
Now comes along this childish, fraternity-like conduct instigated
by Burnett after every Yankee close game victory. Maybe manager
Joe Girardi thought that stuff was amusing while he was a student
at Northwestern.
Football icon Vince Lombardi once criticized one of his players
for adding a little extra show when he ran into the end zone
for a key score. It ruffled Lombardi’s feathers.
“Act like you’ve been there before,” he admonished
the player.
The Yankees act like each August victory, especially if it happens
over the hated Red Sox (they swept the last four at the Stadium)
is a major event worthy of the newsies screaming, “Stop
the presses.” They have to be reminded George Steinbrenner
set the tone of this team when he purchased it in 1973. He soon
announced that no season was a success unless the Yankees won
the final game of the World Series.
Late inning Yankee victories are now accompanied by a show of
togetherness at home plate where the hero is mauled by 24 teammates.
So far there have not been any reports of broken limbs or concussions
as a result of this childish conduct. Just wait.
The Little Leaguers copy all this, of course, and so the next
victim will probably be some 12-year-old kid unfortunate enough
to win his game with a home run.
I think ball players making fifteen, twenty or twenty five million
dollars a year are still entitled to have fun. Sure they like
building estates and adding to their auto collections but they
deserve a laugh or two after a winning game.
I used to share some of this joy with players over a beer in
a hotel bar.
I don’t think I could handle the pounding, the chest pumping,
the ferocious hugs and certainly the pie in the eye if I happened
to write a good story that my boss liked.
I guess I’m a little like DiMaggio. A good performance in
your profession should be routinely expected instead of overly
celebrated.
©2009 by Maury Allen. The Maury Allen caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. This column first posted Aug. 17, 2009.
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