Notes #369
February 5, 2006 by Gene Carney · Leave a Comment
NOTES FROM THE SHADOWS OF COOPERSTOWN
Observations from Outside the Lines
By Two Finger Carney (carneya6@adelphia.net)
#369 FEBRUARY 5, 2006
ANTICIPATION
The feeling behind this issue is definitely kneeling on deck or ducks on the pond. First, because it came together as I wait for the end of the Steelers’ season, one way or the other, in the Superbowl. I still describe myself as a Pittsburgher, having spent my first eighteen years on the planet in that city, and I never quite stopped following the Pittsburgh sports teams — even the Penguins. So of course I’m excited about this Superbowl.
But I’m also looking forward, just can’t wait, to have my book in hand. Any day now. To be honest, I’m more anxious to see the reviews, and I invite any and all readers of Notes to pass along any they spot — or any they write.
To pause for a commercial — my local Barnes & Noble tells me the book (Burying the Black Sox) is in their system, and they have pre-ordered it, and hope to have it “mid-February.” For anyone close to the Shadows of Cooperstown, I’ll be at that New Hartford store March 5 to talk about it, and maybe sign a copy or two. (I don’t collect autographs myself; just books.) Anyway, the book can be purchased at the B & N web site, Amazon, and even the Wal*Mart site, and lots of other web sites that sell books. But check you local bookstores, too. Potomac Books, Inc, is still the way to get it fastest, and if you order by phone, ask for the SABR discount (if you are a SABR member). [End of commercial]
For newcomers: As the day nears when others can finally read my book, I have often thought back to how the book came to be. The short answer is, of course, Notes — starting with #268. I’m not sure if other books have similar evidence of “in the making” … but in my case, most of the issues from 268 to about 360 or so contain something that probably found its way into the book.
THIS ISSUE, I’m leading off with a book review of Mark Harris’ The Southpaw, which I heartily recommend (it’s an oldie but goodie). Then, in celebration of my book’s advent, I’m re-running A Day in the Life from NOTES #282, January 9, 2003, when I was researching in high gear, because that little essay brings back the feel of how the book got written. Next, I am adding to the INDICES that I mentioned in #367, to help others locate stuff related to the book that has appeared in NOTES. And finally, I’m including some Early Returns — blurbs or reviews from those few people who have already seen the book (and, I hope, read it!)
MAJOR LEAGUE
Back around 1990, Mike Shannon (of Spitball fame) wrote the text for a set of cards, produced by Terry Cannon, with the title Major League Writers. It included just 23 cards, photos on the fronts, mini-biographies on the backs. Over the years here in Notes I’ve had some fun with the choices (Mike Shannon is #23, and while I like Mike, his inclusion over Roger Angell and a few other guys never seemed quite right to me.) I returned recently to the card of Mark Harris, and let me state right up top that Mark Harris is truly a major league writer.
Last August, in Notes #358, I wrote:
Bang the Drum Slowly has been my favorite baseball movie since I first saw it, but I only got around to reading the book this year. I’ve read other stuff by Mark Harris, but somehow his trilogy eluded me. It was worth the wait, Bang the Drum is now one of the best baseball books I’ve read. Published in 1956, I don’t understand how I missed this one all these years. In the late fifties I was raiding my local library regularly, and devoured baseball titles.
No need to repeat the story here. Suffice to say that as soon as I finished Bang the Drum, I started looking for The Southpaw, the first book in the trilogy. And I’ll add this: even if you have the film memorized, the book is a whole ‘nother treat. Harris’ writing has a tinge of Ring Lardner’s You Know Me, Al, and the spelling, grammar and vocabulary are rich. Just a great read.
I found The Southpaw, in a trilogy of Mark Harris’ baseball books published in 1977 under the title Henry Wiggen’s Books. (The third in the trilogy is A Ticket for a Seamstitch.) I just finished The Southpaw, enjoying it every bit as much as the more famous (thanx to the silver screen) Bang the Drum.
I didn’t feel the need to re-tell the story of Bang the Drum Slowly last summer. And I don’t want to give away the plot of The Southpaw here, either. Why? Because if you get hooked on the book, as I did, you don’t want to know the ending.
Why? Because you are being taken on a wild ride in a pennant race. This trilogy is all first-person, written by the pitcher of the New York Mammoths, Henry Wiggen (the Michael Moriarty character in Bang the Drum). Readers get to know Henry as he moves toward the majors, from sandlot, school and semi-pro ball in Perkinsville. By the time he gets there, you really care about him, and want to see how he will handle the bigs. Not just how he will do on the mound, but everything.
As it turns out, readers find that out in a tight pennant race. When I read Bang the Drum, I knew the team would win the pennant (if it followed the movie), so there was less suspense.
By the way, the biography on Mark Harris’ 1990 card says that he wrote yet another Henry Wiggen book after the trilogy, It Looked Like For Ever, in 1979. I am familiar with that title, but I did not know it was more Henry Wiggen. Delightful news.
Mike Shannon: “Often hilarious because of narrator Wiggen’s penchant for unintentional double entendres, comic grammar, and malapropisms, the novels also deal seriously with the human condition while capturing the feel of the world of baseball.”
And indeed they do. The Southpaw deals with race, greed, politics, even war (Korea). Shannon liked Bang the Drum best, but I think I’d rate The Southpaw over it, and that is high praise, because I really enjoyed the former.
One of the things about the books is their utter simplicity. Henry Wiggen is not far from a Tom Sawyer. He is not a complicated person, who over-analyzes things. But he doesn’t gloss over things, either. And as the book moves along, we see him come of age, mature, change. So often today, we know athletes by their stats, or their salaries, or their sound bites. Henry Wiggen speaks directly to us, and it feels refreshing.
In fact, the Harris novels are downright nostalgic in a lot of ways. Steroids are not an issue. The players have to bow and scrape for a raise, the owners haggle over a few thousand bucks. Henry Wiggen loves baseball, loves to compete, to pitch in the big games. And that rubs off on readers. Reading Harris/Wiggen is like watching kids play ball, where there’s no money at stake, and everyone is in it for the competition and the fun.
Here is a good excerpt to use as a closer:
That night me and Bruce Pearson went to this baseball movie around the corner from the hotel called “The Puddinhead Albright Story” that even Bruce could see for the usual slop that it was where nobody sweats and nobody swears and every game is crucial and the stands are always packed and the clubhouse always neat as a pin and the women always beautiful and the manager always tough on the outside with a tender heart of gold beneath and everybody either hits the first pitch or fans on 3. Nobody ever hits a foul ball in these movies. I see practically every 1 that comes along and keep watching for that one foul ball but have yet to see it.
From the NOTES Archive: #282, January 9, 2003
A DAY IN THE LIFE
Today — Monday, January 6 — was a little like most of my days since I got hooked. I usually do not check e-mail before going to work, but today I had to send a list of books, articles and files to Claudette Burke, of the Research Department of the National Baseball Library. This Friday, weather permitting, I will visit Cooperstown and explore what they will have waiting for me when I arrive. Sometimes I think I should have been a librarian.
Mid-morning at work, I check my e-mail. A note from Arlene Marcley, executive assistant to the Mayor of Greenville, SC, urges me to write my book, and directs me to a photo of Joe Jackson comparing bats with Babe Ruth, on the NY Daily News web site’s photo archive.
After work, I stop at the Utica Public Library, where I have three book titles that they will track down for me over the next week or so. I ask about an article, and in minutes they produce the August 1990 issue of GQ, and I photocopy the five-page piece by Wilfrid Sheed, one of my favorite authors. “One Man Out … Too Long” is the title.
After a few stops, I’m home, where the US mail has delivered two articles I had requested from Steve Gietschier of The Sporting News. One, a long interview with Joe Jackson in 1942, I have been trying to track down for months.
Checking e-mail again, Mike Nola directs me to two articles in the Denver Post — Mike seems to know when anybody processes a word about Joe Jackson in the media. I had some time and checked out both articles. One is on the “If Rose, Why Not Jackson” issue; the other, a debunking of “Say it ain’t so.” Having just written some about that famous saying, I decide to write a note to the author of both articles, directing them to Notes.
Somehow, Barb and I have managed to team up on a very nice chicken dinner, read the paper, and watch some Jeopardy! Before heading to my upstairs office/library, I read both the Sheed article and the TSN interview.
During the day, I’ve only discussed Joe Jackson and 1919 once, when I ran into a friend at the library. But Joe and Company seem to be on my mind in odd moments, while I’m driving, for example, or when I’m trying to get to sleep. Lately, I find myself scribbling notes after the lights are out, in my kitchen. Some are even legible the next day. Others are useless.
When I’m into something, I write right after dinner. Tonight, I’ll get in a few hours. I try to write something every day. Lately, bothered that Joe Jackson died a few weeks shy of a guest shot on national TV, I’ve been thinking how today, if he was with us, he would be a natural for Live, from New York! It’s Saturday Night! With guest host Shoeless — Joe — JACKson!
CONTINUING: INDEX TO THE NOTES PROBE OF THE COVER-UP OF 1919-1920
3/4/03 #289 PUTTING THE PUZZLE TOGETHER
Asinof! His essay for espn/classic; “the magic word is coverup.” The Questions Not Asked on the ESPN Classic documentary.
Dueling Reporters. Matty vs Fullerton, after the Fix.
3/16/03 #290 IS IT SPRING YET?
Kenesaw Mountain A poem.
Tidbits. From the Cincinnati newspapers of 1919.
A Visit to Greenville, S.C. Hats off to Cecilia Tan.
4/19/03 #292 PLUS FIVE
The Cover-Up Is Alive & Well Cottrell’s Blackball, the Black Sox and the Babe, a mini-review.
5/18/03 #293 IS IT OCTOBER YET?
You Can’t Look It Up — Yet. The problem with Jerome Holtzman.
The Frank Wills of 1920? Elias Hoagland: does he deserve credit?
Research Needs. Did the tooth fairy slip Weaver money, too?
6/3/03 #295 ANOTHER TALE OF THE TAPE
It Must Be True, I Saw It On the History Channel. A review of the 1997 documentary on the B-Sox Scandal.
Notes from the Trail. Summary of assorted research.
6/20/03 #297 ANATOMY OF A BOOK
Follow the Golden Brick Road. A visit to the Seymour Collection.
6/30/03 #298 THE OTHER SIDE OF MILWAUKEE
Too Much Menke Business. Frank G Menke covered the 1924 trial.
The Trial of Shoeless Joe Jackson That Nobody Noticed. Coverage from the 1924 Milwaukee papers & other sources.
7/10/03 #299 ALL-STAR READING
More from Milwaukee. Affidavilts and transcripts and revelations.
The Big Bankroll’s Wife Tells All. Carolyn Rothstein wrote a book!
Menke Rides Writes Again. More coverage of the 1924 trial.
7/21/03 #300 THREE HUNDRED!
A Little More on Cicotte. Edd Roush told Lawrence Ritter….
Here Come (More on) Da Judge. John J. Gregory, Milwaukee, 1924.
8/2/03 #301 ANOTHER LOWDERMILK ISSUE
Squibs. When did Gleason first confront his team about the Fix?
Another Visit to October 1919. The Herald & Examiner coverage.
8/11/03 #302 THIS JUST IN
The Awful Howl. More on the Gleason confrontation.
Lefty Williams. Five pages about (and some by) the southpaw.
8/20/03 #303 WINDING DOWN
Notes from Milwaukee. More from that treasure trove of transcripts.
9/7/03 #305 NOTES FROM A ROAD TRIP
Six Hours. A day spent with Eliot Asinof.
Kids With Pens and Notebooks. Ages of the reporters in 1919.
9/12/03 #306 REPERCUSSIONS
Say It Ain’t So, John! John Sayles’ film 8MO has problems.
9/19/03 #307 PARALLEL UNIVERSES
Rothstein. A review of Pietrusza’s biography of the Big Bankrool.
9/26/03 #308 STRETCH RUN … WEEKEND
Statute of Limitations. Comiskey honored by a statue.
Collyer’s Eye. The search begins.
10/3/03 #309 BREAK IN THE ACTION
Another Wray of Light. Fullerton sent baseball to Ed Wray.
10/10/03 #310 GOING IT ALONE
A Lesser-Known Ruling of Judge Landis. From the grave?
Ban Johnson’s Own Story. The Wray & Stockton series.
10/17/03 #311 THE COLORS OF OCTOBER
Wanted. Research needs of the day. (Harry’s Diary still at large)
Life-Imitates-Art Dept. Fullerton’s 1915 fiction — scary!
10/25/03 #312 LOOKING BACK
The Rest of the Story. The Tribune tribute to Ban Johnson.
An Unpronounceable P.S. Ring Lardner’s poem on Cicotte.
EARLY RETURNS
It’s not exactly like watching the vote tallies come in, precinct by precinct, on Election Day evening. But I suspect it’s close. Hope to have lots more of these in future issues!
JULES TYGIEL:
“I thought that I knew everything about the Black Sox Scandal until I read this book. Gene Carney has not entirely solved the puzzle. Nobody possibly could. But thanks to his detective work we have a lot more of the pieces and a fuller picture of what occurred both during the 1919 World Series and equally significantly, during the coverup that followed.”
LIBRARY JOURNAL:
“Aiming to supersede Eliot Asinof’s Eight Men Out: The Black Sox and the 1919 World Series, veteran baseball researcher Carney unpacks the history of the scandal to review new sources and new elements to the tale. Asking who knew what about the fix, when they knew it, and what they did about it, he answers with a fully documented study of scandal and cover-up that should prove essential for all baseball collections.”
Veteran? Unless this reviewer somehow found out about the research I did for MORNINGS AFTER … this book is really my first DEEP venture into research.
KEITH OLBERMANN:
“It is startling to think that immutable baseball history you’ve ‘known’ since childhood is nothing more than a pile of unconnected errors. Gene Carney has convinced me: few of us know a thing about the 1919 World Series, and that if Joe Jackson and his colleagues committed any crimes, they paled in comparison to the cover-up effected by the game’s management. And all that is particularly evocative and relevant today, as we try to figure out if the game’s management is trying to expose the use of performance-enhancing drugs, or hide the evidence of it.”
