http://sports.iwon.com/news/06062006/v3087.html
PHILADELPHIA (AP) - Eric Gregg's warm personality was as large as his frame. The former major league umpire was known to ring 'em up, pound 'em down and somehow leave them all laughing.
Gregg, whose struggles with weight problems saw him reach almost 400 pounds, died Monday night, a day after he was hospitalized with a stroke. He was 55.
"He was always a guy that was easy to like," Yankees manager Joe Torre said. "Even when you had a disagreement with him, you knew you could usually reason it out with him. He was fun-loving."
Even when Gregg lost his job as an umpire, he could still be found at the ballpark, though he was talking baseball instead of calling balls and strikes.
"I remember him with a smile on his face," Braves manager Bobby Cox said. "He tried hard and he worked at his job."
It wasn't an easy road to the major leagues for Gregg, and it was even harder after he lost his job in 1999 when a plan among the umpires to use mass resignations as a way to force early contract negotiations backfired.
Gregg said he borrowed money from other umpires just to pay the mortgage and he accepted a variety of eclectic jobs - from writing a sports column to acting on a soap opera to bartending - just to pay the bills.
"We all tried to help out him at some point in time after he got out," Cubs manager Dusty Baker said.
But it was his sense of humor, wide smile and easygoing personality that most remember - along what that expanded strike zone - from over two decades as an umpire.
Yankees coach Larry Bowa remembered feeling that he beat a throw to score on a fly ball, but was instead called out at the plate by Gregg on a close call in an extra inning game.
"I got up from that play and I said, 'Eric, if that was a Big Mac down there on home plate, you'd have bent over and made the right call,"' Bowa said.
Bowa added that turned into one of Gregg's favorite stories. Fans probably heard it at the popular Philadelphia sports bar he worked at as a bartender, host, and waiter, and poured beers at the bar's concessions stand at Citizens Bank Park.
Forget kill the ump. Gregg signed autographs, posed for pictures and always had an amusing antedocte.
"Up here, if it's not every other customer who knows him, it's every customer," said Michael Herron, manager at Chickie's and Pete's in northeast Philly. "He was very well liked here for who he is and what he does."
But Gregg felt more comfortable behind the plate than behind a bar.
Gregg called his first game in 1975 and became a member of the NL staff in 1978. He worked the 1989 World Series, four championship series, two division series and one All-Star game.
"He was so determined to be in the game and he got there," said his son, Kevin Gregg.
But losing his dream job, struggling to pay bills and moving his family around from their upper class home to a cramped apartment took a toll on the heavy umpire.
"When he realized he couldn't go back to work, it took a lot out of him," Kevin Gregg said. "To this day, I think it was sometimes painful for him to watch games."
He was given $400,000 in 2004 when he and five other umpires were given severance pay and benefits.
Kevin Gregg recalled his father's days as a high school catcher at West Philadelphia High, when a coach told him he was too big to play and wasn't ever going to be good enough.
"He had the mentality of, 'Damn that, I'm still going to be involved," Gregg said.
Gregg said his dad saw a commercial for umpiring school and decided that's how he would make it to the major leagues.
"He was my friend, and I'll miss him," umpire Jerry Crawford, in tears, said before working the Marlins-Giants game in San Francisco. "He was a very good umpire. He loved the game. He was a funny guy. He had a great time at it. He was a terrific partner."
The 6-foot-3 Gregg was often criticized for calling strikes too wide.
In Game 5 of the 1997 NL championship series against Atlanta, Florida's Livan Hernandez struck out 15 batters and the Braves' Greg Maddux fanned nine as the teams combined to set a championship series record with 25 in the Marlins' 2-1 win. Eight players were called out and several more fell behind in the count as Gregg appeared to make the plate wider than its usual 17 inches.
"Eric will be ever known for one game, but I don't think that's fair," Braves pitcher John Smoltz said.
In early March, Gregg had his right knee replaced and was taking blood thinners to prevent clots. He had lost some weight because of the knee rehabilitation, had changed his diet and had stopped drinking.
In 1996, shortly after his friend and fellow umpire John McSherry died, Gregg entered a weight-loss program at Duke University. By adjusting his diet and exercise program, he lost 100 pounds from his former frame of nearly 400.
Not that it always kept him from having a good time.
"He was light on his feet. He could dance," Baker said
Gregg is survived by his wife, Ramona, and three other children: Eric, Ashley and Jamie.
PHILADELPHIA (AP) - Eric Gregg's warm personality was as large as his frame. The former major league umpire was known to ring 'em up, pound 'em down and somehow leave them all laughing.
Gregg, whose struggles with weight problems saw him reach almost 400 pounds, died Monday night, a day after he was hospitalized with a stroke. He was 55.
"He was always a guy that was easy to like," Yankees manager Joe Torre said. "Even when you had a disagreement with him, you knew you could usually reason it out with him. He was fun-loving."
Even when Gregg lost his job as an umpire, he could still be found at the ballpark, though he was talking baseball instead of calling balls and strikes.
"I remember him with a smile on his face," Braves manager Bobby Cox said. "He tried hard and he worked at his job."
It wasn't an easy road to the major leagues for Gregg, and it was even harder after he lost his job in 1999 when a plan among the umpires to use mass resignations as a way to force early contract negotiations backfired.
Gregg said he borrowed money from other umpires just to pay the mortgage and he accepted a variety of eclectic jobs - from writing a sports column to acting on a soap opera to bartending - just to pay the bills.
"We all tried to help out him at some point in time after he got out," Cubs manager Dusty Baker said.
But it was his sense of humor, wide smile and easygoing personality that most remember - along what that expanded strike zone - from over two decades as an umpire.
Yankees coach Larry Bowa remembered feeling that he beat a throw to score on a fly ball, but was instead called out at the plate by Gregg on a close call in an extra inning game.
"I got up from that play and I said, 'Eric, if that was a Big Mac down there on home plate, you'd have bent over and made the right call,"' Bowa said.
Bowa added that turned into one of Gregg's favorite stories. Fans probably heard it at the popular Philadelphia sports bar he worked at as a bartender, host, and waiter, and poured beers at the bar's concessions stand at Citizens Bank Park.
Forget kill the ump. Gregg signed autographs, posed for pictures and always had an amusing antedocte.
"Up here, if it's not every other customer who knows him, it's every customer," said Michael Herron, manager at Chickie's and Pete's in northeast Philly. "He was very well liked here for who he is and what he does."
But Gregg felt more comfortable behind the plate than behind a bar.
Gregg called his first game in 1975 and became a member of the NL staff in 1978. He worked the 1989 World Series, four championship series, two division series and one All-Star game.
"He was so determined to be in the game and he got there," said his son, Kevin Gregg.
But losing his dream job, struggling to pay bills and moving his family around from their upper class home to a cramped apartment took a toll on the heavy umpire.
"When he realized he couldn't go back to work, it took a lot out of him," Kevin Gregg said. "To this day, I think it was sometimes painful for him to watch games."
He was given $400,000 in 2004 when he and five other umpires were given severance pay and benefits.
Kevin Gregg recalled his father's days as a high school catcher at West Philadelphia High, when a coach told him he was too big to play and wasn't ever going to be good enough.
"He had the mentality of, 'Damn that, I'm still going to be involved," Gregg said.
Gregg said his dad saw a commercial for umpiring school and decided that's how he would make it to the major leagues.
"He was my friend, and I'll miss him," umpire Jerry Crawford, in tears, said before working the Marlins-Giants game in San Francisco. "He was a very good umpire. He loved the game. He was a funny guy. He had a great time at it. He was a terrific partner."
The 6-foot-3 Gregg was often criticized for calling strikes too wide.
In Game 5 of the 1997 NL championship series against Atlanta, Florida's Livan Hernandez struck out 15 batters and the Braves' Greg Maddux fanned nine as the teams combined to set a championship series record with 25 in the Marlins' 2-1 win. Eight players were called out and several more fell behind in the count as Gregg appeared to make the plate wider than its usual 17 inches.
"Eric will be ever known for one game, but I don't think that's fair," Braves pitcher John Smoltz said.
In early March, Gregg had his right knee replaced and was taking blood thinners to prevent clots. He had lost some weight because of the knee rehabilitation, had changed his diet and had stopped drinking.
In 1996, shortly after his friend and fellow umpire John McSherry died, Gregg entered a weight-loss program at Duke University. By adjusting his diet and exercise program, he lost 100 pounds from his former frame of nearly 400.
Not that it always kept him from having a good time.
"He was light on his feet. He could dance," Baker said
Gregg is survived by his wife, Ramona, and three other children: Eric, Ashley and Jamie.
