Friday, February 09, 2007 |
Book Review: Bums
By Peter Golenbock
© 1984 Peter Golenbock, published by Contemporary Books
Studs Terkel has always deeply annoyed me for two reasons. The first was his ghastly, precious introduction to the fiftieth edition of John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath that included the following horrors:
[Steinbeck's] diary is replete with self-denigration. "Funny how mean and little books become in face of such tragedies." "I've reaced a point of weariness where it seems lousy to me." "I'm not a writer. I wish I were." Yet an almost messianic urgency drove him on.With hyperbolic treacle like that, it's a wonder anybody ever read the damned book. As it was, it took me a week before I opened the thing up again, but fortunately for Steinbeck, Terkel wasn't a Name when Grapes first hit the presses.Self-doubt be damned, he was part of that caravan; he was as much a pilgrim on the Joad hegira as Preacher Casy or Uncle John. ...
But the other reason I find Terkel a stone in my shoe is that the role of oral historian seems to be an entirely second-rate occupation. Freed from the constraints of having to validate stories by finding multiple confirming sources, the resulting product often has the new-car-smell of manufactured goods. That is, he knows his audience, knows his sources, and knows his point, i.e. he is the scholarly version of Bill Plaschke.
So it was with some trepidation that I received the audiobook version of Peter Golenbock's now-27-year-old oral history of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Golenbock has published a long list of oral histories, five of them New York Times bestsellers. His latest project, the tentatively titled 7: The Mickey Mantle Novel, was to be a synthesis of fictional sexual innuendo and four-letter-words, i.e., a brazen grab for cash; the nascent book fell victim to Judith Regan's exit at Harper/Collins, and to my knowledge, has yet to find a home.
While all of this merely fueled my skepticism about the book's merits, it didn't prevent me from actually reading listening to it, and I must say I'm glad I did. The Blackstone Audiobooks edition (I received the two MP3 CD set and loaded it on to my iPod for my morning commute) is an unedited reading by Raymond Todd. This created some minor annoyances here and there (the first chapter includes all the dust flap notes, zzzz), but overall a very solid product, as Todd is an engaging reader who does an effective job trying to keep all the characters both separate and consistent. (The book, which I subsequently purchased, has a fine, comprehensive index, sometimes a glaring omission in sports histories. Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, Ross Newhan.)
The book itself is an enormous collection of interviews, with much historical leavening, a sort of plum pudding of the ancient Dodgers before we knew them. It recalls how Charlie Ebbets, who had risen from ticket-taker to business manager to owner, temporarily saved the franchise from its ultimate fate, relocation. It was a time when Brooklyn was already starting to lose its identity: the annexation of the city into New York City occurred in 1898. The Dodgers fought that trend by helping to unite the neighborhood in a way that has rarely been seen before or since, with players and fans sharing connections that today would be unthinkable.
Of special interest are the many pages devoted to the great Dodger teams of the late-40's to mid-50's, and their many heartaches and successes. In particular, the numerous stories of the Dodgers' role in the integration of the game and American life generally are impressive, and at times, astounding, like this one by Don Newcombe:
Del Ennis [was] with the Philadelphia Phillies in 1950. They had a coach named McDonald, a batting practice pitcher and a bench jockey. He'd call us all kinds of niggers, everything. That's what he was there for. In a very distinct voice, I could hear him from the dugout. And one day in Ebbets Field, I'm pitching against the Phillies, and he's calling us all these names, and Jackie comes over to the mound and says, "Newk, did you hear that son of a bitch over there?" I said, "Jack, I hear him. I got good ears." Jack was playing third base. He said, "What are you going to do about it?" I said, "Well, when the hitter comes up who's the best hitter on the club, you'll see what happens." Del Ennis came up, and I buzzed him, and he went down on his ass. Hat went flying, bat went one way, and he got up and picked up his bat, and I said to Jackie, "All right now. We're ready for a fight." Jackie said, "I'm with you. Don't worry about it. Let him come out here." Ennis turned around and went over to his dugout and said something to that coach [...] and he came back to the plate and struck out.The latter chapters of the book dealing with the team's exodus to Los Angeles and Walter O'Malley are far from kind, containing numerous stories that reinforce O'Malley's reputation as a skinflint. One example comes from Irving Rudd, whose nominal title was director of the Brooklyn Amateur Baseball Foundation but was in fact a paid employee of the Dodgers whose title nowadays would be something like community promotions director. Rudd recounted how O'Malley required his employees to exchange their service rings after the 1955 title for World Series rings; O'Malley in turn re-issued those same service rings to his field scouts. There's a lot of stories you won't read on walteromalley.com, and Golenbock's book stumbles some in merely regurgitating the conventional wisdom about the events leading up to the move west. There are other nits as well, such as his propagation of the myth (PDF) that Bill Veeck was on the verge of integrating the majors in 1942. Despite it, Bums is a must-read for the serious Dodger fan....
[Some] years later I got to play with Del in Cincinnati, and I asked him what he said to the coach when he went over to the dugout. Del said, "I told that son of a bitch, you leave that big son of a bitch alone out there on that mound, because you don't have to go up there and hit against him. I do, and he's knocking me on my ass for what you're saying to him. Now if that's your feeling, that's fine, but if you say anything more to him while I'm at bat, I'm gonna pull your fucking tongue out of your head and lay it in your hand. Leave that man alone."And the coach was released from the club....
Labels: books, dodgers, history, reviews
Paul Fussell once wrote that "oral history" would be more accurately called "oral lying."
Granting that O'Malley was a skinflint, was he any less of one in Brooklyn than he was in Los Angeles? Interesting also that this skinflint and miser maintained the lowest ticket prices in the majors at Dodger Stadium. Sometime between then and the 1980s, however, the Dodgers started to be regularly listed as one of the best companies in the country to work for, which seems contradictory. Or did this only start after Peter took over?
In terms of dollars and cents, the most significant thing O'Malley gave up when he took his team out of Brooklyn was broadcasting revenue, a factor that usually isn't figured in the calculus. Throughout the 1950s as Dodger attendance steadily declined it was TV broadcasting that made the team profitable. I don't have any idea what the Dodgers make from broadcasting in Los Angeles, but I get the clear impression that the Yankees, Mets and Red Sox make far more. Had the Dodgers stayed in Brooklyn into the cable era broadcasting would have been worth far more even than that, because the Dodgers of Brooklyn had a national following going back to the days of radio. The thing is, O'Malley hated to telecast ballgames. When I was a kid the only regular season games on TV were Sunday road games and road games against the Giants. Maybe his conscious thought was that it would keep people from attending games (if so, a notion that's since been proved wrong), but really, I think in his heart of hearts broadcasting a game on TV seemed like giving something away, and he couldn't stand that.
: 2/09/2007 08:01:00 PMHeh.
Sometime between then and the 1980s, however, the Dodgers started to be regularly listed as one of the best companies in the country to work for, which seems contradictory. Or did this only start after Peter took over?
I seem to remember that was an affectation from the 1980's.
I don't have any idea what the Dodgers make from broadcasting in Los Angeles, but I get the clear impression that the Yankees, Mets and Red Sox make far more.
This is almost certainly true, for two reasons:
1) The Yankees and Mets share the largest TV market in the country.
2) YES and NESN are captives of the Yankees and Red Sox respectively.
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