This is another song that started in one spot and ended in another. The attempt was to write a song about a Met player that nobody would ever think of focusing on. It started with Barry Lyons but got nowhere fast. While doing work on the Lyons song, the focus shifted to one of the all-time great Mets players, Jerry Grote. A personal favorite memory of Grote was in 1973, when the Mets were in a pennant race and in a game, some kid interfered with Grote from making a foul catch and Grote gave the kid grief over it. The Mets ended up losing that game because in the newspapers, the next day, that kid was quoted as saying, “If the Mets have to lose, I hope its by more than one game.”
Grote sits behind the plate
Sets up low and mean.
Crouched down like some alley cat
There’s dirt on old’15.
When Jerry called for number one
You’d better hurl your heater high.
Just hold that runner on first base
And look Jerry in the eye.
The San Antonio wind
It blew him in.
And he brought his right hand gun.
He never had too much to say
Until the game was won.
If he didn’t like the way a pitch was called
He’d let that fact be known.
And if some strikes weren’t called his way
He might miss one that got thrown.
(Make the Umpire Moan)
We picked him up from the Colt 45s
And he never did go back.
Made them runners crawl
With his Texas drawl
Hands big as ammo packs.