I never questioned the integrity of an umpire. Their eyesight, yes.
quote by Leo Durocher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sounds From The Baseball Field
Batter in the home place,
That was nobly done;
Try and get the first base-
Run!
Run
! RUN!
Ah, there, short stop, will you miss?
Hear the people cheer and hiss,
Hear them yell and shout.
Twinkling legs and flying feet-
(Oh, I wonder who will beat!)
Faster, faster, out!
Umpire, umpire, go along;
That was wrong, sir, that was wrong.
Pitcher pitches, four balls,
'Take your base, my man.'
Toward the second now he crawls-
'Steal it if you can.'
Oh, the ball has gone so high,
Can they catch it on the fly?
Ah, there is no doubt,
He will get his third, I vow-
Pshaw! the ball has got there now,
'Two men out!'
Umpire, umpire, that was wrong;
Go along, sir, go along.
One man on the first base,
Not a single run.
Boys are warming to the race-
Now look out for fun.
Pitcher's arm maybe is tired;
Batter sudden seems inspired,
Grounds the ball to win.
Run there, run there, run your best,
I am screaming with the rest
'Two men in!'
Umpire, umpire, go away;
Dead wrong, dead wrong, sir, I say.
What's the matter now, pray?
Taking breath, that's all;
But the restless people say
'Play ball, play ball.'
One ball, two strikes, two balls-'Foul.'
Umpire calls, and people howl:
'What is he about?'
Run, run, run, run, Run,
Run
, RUN!
Half the inning now is done,
'Three men out!'
Umpire, umpire, go along;
You are always, always wrong.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCI: Questioned
The king will fall if his wisdom is questioned
The soldier will die if his loyalty is questioned
The lover will separate if his love is questioned
But the poet will keep singing even if his sanity is questioned
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Law That Isn't
The law that isn't!
But should be...
Integrity.
Integrity.
All kinds of crime,
Have been defined.
But...
One escapes from a state of mind.
Integrity!
The law that isn't.
Integrity.
integrity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Umpire
An umpire demands
No praises or bribes
And no love either.
God is the umpire.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Most plays that are missed by the umpire are caused by the umpire not reading those cues early enough and making the proper adjustments.
The error was erred
A batsman was given out.
The umpire felt his error.
The next one was not given out
Though he was to be so.
The umpire knowingly did so.
He had made two errors
But his conscience became clear.
08.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Anyone interested in becoming a professional umpire and becoming eligible to work in the minor leagues must attend one of the two umpire schools sanctioned by Major League Baseball.
When Did Truth Become a Perception
When did truth become a perception,
And not an expectation.
When did it become questioned,
And deception an obligation.
People excuse themselves from misdeeds.
And then demand forgiveness,
To continue doing as they please.
While slandering and backstabbing,
Those who are honest and of integrity.
When did truth become a perception,
And not an expectation.
When did it become questioned,
And deception an obligation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The guilt was set right.
He was given out as leg before.
A wrong decision. The umpire felt.
The next batsman was not given out.
A wrong decision. The umpire did.
He committed two wrongs
But his guilt was set right.
07.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be an umpire
Players watch the game they play.
The umpire watches the game.
The audience watches the game.
The staff watches the game.
Their emotions and reactions vary.
Being an umpire is the best option.
30.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How come that when I lost my sheep and could not find it, I was questioned; but the hyena who was found with the sheepskin is not questioned.
The Sorrows of the Blind
Pity the sorrows of the poor blind,
For they can but little comfort find;
As they walk along the street,
They know not where to put their feet.
They are deprived of that earthly joy
Of seeing either man, woman, or boy;
Sad and lonely through the world they go,
Not knowing a friend from a foe:
Nor the difference betwixt day and night,
For the want of their eyesight;
The blind mother cannot see her darling boy,
That was once her soul's joy.
By day and night,
Since she lost her precious sight;
To her the world seems dark and drear,
And she can find no comfort here.
She once found pleasure in reading books,
But now pale and careworn are her looks.
Since she has lost her eyesight,
Everything seems wrong and nothing right.
The face of nature, with all its beauties and livery green,
Appears to the blind just like a dream.
All things beautiful have vanished from their sight,
Which were once their heart's delight.
The blind father cannot see his beautiful child, nor wife,
That was once the joy of his life;
That he was wont to see at morn and night,
When he had his eyesight.
All comfort has vanished from him now,
And a dejected look hangs on his brow.
Kind Christians all, both great and small,
Pity the sorrows of the blind,
They can but little comfort find;
Therefore we ought to be content with our lot,
And for the eyesight we have got,
And pray to God both day and night
To preserve our eyesight;
To be always willing to help the blind in their distress,
And the Lord will surely bless
And guard us by night and day,
And remember us at the judgment day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Matter How Many Apologies Come
A breached integrity is difficult to mend.
Any outreaching extended,
Doesn't heal but offends.
A conscious intention is known for what it is.
No one who says they respect someone,
Will protect themselves...
With a lie that's done.
That's a breach of one's integrity.
No matter how many apologies come.
And for anyone who says that is being sensitive,
Have no respect or integrity to offer.
And surely none there to be known as it is to give.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At The Minor's Field
The Li'l Leaguer's now in uniforms,
And the ball game is ‘bout to begin.
My young hero in position one,
For the Orioles against the Indians;
Kevin stepped on the pitcher's plate,
"Go! Orioles, " the parents cheered.
"Batter's in, " the umpire yelled,
He pitched, the ball went wild.
"Ball, " the umpire called. Again,
He pitched to the batter's shin.
Hit by pitch, the batter walks on base,
Still at first when the catcher missed.
"Ball, " 2 and 0, the umpire signed,
And some parents began to whine.
Bases are loaded but all walks,
And their slugger is up to bat.
Pitch by pitch, she tried to hit,
A foul, a tip, the third, she missed.
With one out on the score board,
The outfielders are getting bored.
The next batter, my neighbor's son,
He tried the same as hard as he can,
Swing after swing, he lost his chance;
The ball was caught, two out at once.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Diminishing Of Integrity
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
A diminishing of equality,
Now gone.
And...
A quality of life once wished,
To value and exist to admit...
Is,
A deficit of dreams,
That seem to demean...
With no purpose or meaning.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
A diminishing of equality,
Now gone.
With a deficit of dreams,
That seem to demean...
With no purpose or meaning.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
With a deficit of dreams,
That seem to demean...
With no purpose or meaning.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
And seems to demean,
With no purpose or meaning.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
With no purpose or meaning.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
Now gone.
Now gone.
A diminishing of integrity,
Now gone.
Gone!
Gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Has Anybody Else Questioned the Dawn
Has anybody else questioned the dawn
and wished, for once, the sun would hide its face?
In reverence for all those who have gone
somehow, the lack of cloud seems out of place.
The wind has dropped and warmth is all around
so early on this tragic, mournful morn.
What solace in this sunlight can be found?
Has anybody else questioned the dawn?
The speculation starts the usual way.
The questions growing louder by the hour
as people grope for something kind to say,
some words of hope to sap that day's dark power.
Has anybody else questioned the dawn,
and wished for once that yesterday was gone
(Written on the day of the Cumbrian Shootings in 2010)
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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The supreme quality for a leader is unquestionably integrity. Without it, no real success is possible, no matter whether it is on a section gang, a football field, in an army, or in an office. If a man's associates find him guilty of being phony, if they find that he lacks forthright integrity, he will fail. His teachings and actions must square with each other. The first great need, therefore, is integrity and high purpose.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Integrity
As if a golden grain of sand
That is lost to the hand,
When integrity is gone forever,
It severs a chance to extol
The state of being whole.
Then perfection’s fate
Is no longer open to debate,
Since the tragic selection
Is integrity’s imperfection.
Protect every precious grain
With principles that reign
And guide the astute
Who know that integrity is not
Relative, but always absolute
Nothing less than
The very essence of petrescence.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Defending The Nonexistence
I've never allowed myself to be in a position,
To refute or disprove anything questioned.
I don't kneel behind walls from which to peek.
And defending insecurities...
Taught me a lesson as a child.
Don't do it.
Why insist something does not exist,
By defending the nonexistence of it?
It makes no sense to persist in nonsense.
And eventually weakens a false integrity...
One keeps under wraps and ego feeds.
Or tries by disguising in masquerade,
Something kept left to be discreet.
I've learned...
An awakening can not prevent,
The seeing through to the truth of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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