Hitting the Wrong Note: The Musical Protest That Made Baseball History
When a minor league organist grew tired of an umpire's bad calls in 1985, he turned to his sheet music for protest. The three notes he played earned him a permanent, and hilarious, place in baseball's book of unwritten rules.
An Umpire's Unforgiving Ear
The sounds of a minor league ballpark are a specific kind of American symphony. The crack of the bat, the murmur of the crowd, the vendor's call of "peanuts, popcorn." And for decades, weaving through it all, was the cheerful punctuation of the stadium organ. On June 26, 1985, at Jack Russell Memorial Stadium in Clearwater, Florida, that familiar sound turned from accompaniment to accusation. The man at the keys, Wilbur Snapp, was about to make baseball history not with a rousing "Charge!" but with a simple nursery rhyme.
Snapp, a veteran organist with a mischievous streak, had spent years providing the soundtrack for the Clearwater Phillies. He was a professional, but he was also a fan. That night, the home team was locked in a tight game against the Osceola Astros, and from Snapp's perch in the press box, umpire Keith O'Connor seemed to be having a rough night. A series of close calls at first base, each one favoring the visiting team, had the home crowd grumbling, then shouting. The air, thick with Florida humidity, was now also thick with frustration.
A Three-Note Protest
Following another questionable call that went against the Phillies, Snapp decided the moment required a more pointed musical commentary. As the groans from the stands reached a crescendo, a new melody filled the stadium. It wasn't a rally cry or a walk-up song. It was the unmistakable, three-descending-note introduction to "Three Blind Mice."
See how they run. See how they run. They all ran after the farmer's wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife. Did you ever see such a sight in your life as three blind mice?
The crowd erupted, first in confusion, then in roaring laughter and applause. They understood the message instantly. So did Keith O'Connor. The umpire, his authority musically mocked in front of thousands, stopped the game. He scanned the stadium, located the organ booth high above, and pointed a stern finger directly at Wilbur Snapp. With a decisive jerk of his thumb, O'Connor did something virtually unheard of: he ejected the organist.
A Folk Hero is Born
Wilbur Snapp dutifully packed up his sheet music and left the booth, but the story was just beginning. Word of the musical ejection spread like wildfire. It was a perfect man-bites-dog story for the sports world. Snapp became an overnight celebrity, his act of melodic rebellion earning him mentions in newspapers across the country and even a spot on Paul Harvey's famous radio broadcast. He received a one-day suspension from the league but was welcomed back as a local hero.
For the next 15 years, Snapp remained at his post, a beloved figure whose moment of defiance never quite faded. The story of the ejected organist endures because it captures something essential about the spirit of the game. It was a spontaneous, human, and genuinely funny act of protest in an arena often defined by rigid rules and stoic professionalism. Wilbur Snapp saw something he thought was wrong, and while he couldn't throw a penalty flag or appeal a decision, he could play his organ. And with just three notes, he hit a home run that would be remembered long after the final score was forgotten.
Sources
- 80s - 6/26/85 Clearwater Phillies organist Wilbur Snapp is ejected ...
- The organist Wilbur Snapp is ejected by umpire Keith O'Connor from ...
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- Wilbur Snapp - Wikipedia
- Wilbur Snapp, 83, Organist Ejected by Ump - The New York Times
- Umpire tosses music intern in Daytona | MiLB.com
- 'Three Blind Mice' ballpark organist dies - Sarasota Herald-Tribune
- Hitting the wrong note - Baseball (and other cool stuff)
- Umpire's Ejection of "Three Blind Mice" - Bleacher Report