I was umpirin’ in Chicago, workin’ hard behind the plate
The night was clear and cool, October 12 it was the date
‘Twas the White Sox and the Angels, vyin’ for th’ALCS
The score was one to one, the outcome anybody’s guess
And in the bottom of the ninth, A.J. Pierzynski at the plate
A curious thing happened which I now will relate

Escobar threw a low one and I made my third strike call
The ball was rolled back moundward by the catcher, ol’ Josh Paul
But A.J. he lit out for first because he had no doubt
That in his ears was never rung my battlecry, “Yer out!”
They said I raised my arm, but that just sounds like Angel panic
Hell everybody knows by now my famous strike mechanic

Now Sciocsia comes all steamin’ out of dugout number two
And he gives me quite an earful using words both foul and blue
I gave the man a listen, but my mind it was relaxed
Because I was convinced that I’d be backed up by the facts
The White Sox had a runner, and they went on to win
Cause up came Big Joe Crede and he drove that runner in

Now some will say I’m stupid or they’ll say that I am blind
Some will say I’m biased or that I had changed my mind
The hacks will say that umpiring’s the worst it’s ever been
But I don’t care because I know my conscience is quite clean
So call us morons, call us lazy cheap conniving crooks —
I made my call and that is all, the game is in the books

Doug Eddings has been a major league umpire for six years.