Not enough people appreciate the legend of Joe Schultz, who was Jim Bouton's manager with the Seattle Pilots in 1969 while Bouton was penning the seminal true-life baseball book Ball Four. My friend Paul Ruwe and I used to sit in the Golden Fleece Lounge polishing off pitchers of Leinenkugel's while spouting out line after line of Joe Schultz-isms with a few Frankie Crosetti's mixed in ("Thataway. That's the old Rufus Goofus.")
Ladies and gentlemen, the wisdom of Joe Schultz:
After the game Joe Schultz said, "Attaway to stomp on 'em, men. Pound that Budweiser into you and go get 'em tomorrow." Then he spotted Gelnar sucking out of a pop bottle. "For crissakes, Gelnar," Joe Schultz said. "You'll never get them out drinking Dr. Pepper."
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Joe Schultz is not like [pitching coach] Sal Maglie with the pitchers. Gelnar was telling us about this great conversation he had with Joe on the mound. There were a couple of guys on and Tom Matchick was up. "Any particular way you want me to pitch him, Joe?" Gelnar said. "Nah, fuck him," Joe Schultz said. "Give him some low smoke and we'll go in and pound some Budweiser."
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Today Joe Schultz said, "Nice going out there today, Jim."
The only thing I'd done all day was warm up. "Joe, I had a fantastic knuckleball today," I said. "Just fantastic."
"Did you?" Joe Schultz said. "Did you have the feel of it?"
"I sure did."
Whereupon Joe Schultz grabbed his crotch and said, "Well, feel this."
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It's true that Joe Schultz does seem to have a firmer grip on reality than other baseball men. Example: Joe got into a terrible argument with an umpire at home plate about a check swing and when it was over he stormed back to the dugout, still muttering. Just before stepping into the dugout, though, he spied a blonde sitting in the first row and said, "Hija, blondie. How's your old tomato?"