Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts

Roger Maris: Baseball's Reluctant Hero Review

Roger Maris: Baseball's Reluctant Hero
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Maury Allen wrote a prior biography of Roger Maris in 1986, and now Tom Clavin and Danny Peary have written the definitive biography of baseball's "reluctant hero." Like several other individuals Maris has become more appreciated with the passage of time. Maris had people who would be remembered favorably and unfavorably in his career. Minor league manager Dutch Meyer punished Maris for a poor throw to third base by having him repeatedly make long distance throws to third base until Maris told him enough was enough. Kirby Farrell and Harry Craft would be remembered favorably along with Jo Jo White who taught him to pull the ball.
I graduated from high school in June of 1961 and vividly remember that memorable season when Maris challenged Ruth's home run record. Unlike today when players hold post-game press conferences the Yankees provided no protection for Maris as he was inundated with questions from all sides regarding his opinions on baseball and non-baseball related matters. Yankee publicist Bob Fishel said he never thought of having a press conference at the time following a game. It was baseball commissioner Ford Frick who taught the youth of America the meaning of the word "asterisk" when he proclaimed that Ruth's record must be broken in 154 games. Frick was a close friend of Ruth's and acted as a ghost writer for him. The authors correctly mention the unfortunate incident that took place in 1960 in Detroit involving someone who threw the back of a chair from the right field stands at Maris following a controversial home run by Bill Skowron. The movie 61* incorrectly mentions it as happening in 1961. I know it was in 1960 because I was sitting in the second deck above the Yankees' bullpen for that game.
Roger Maris spent two happy years with the St. Louis Cardinals during the seasons of 1967-1968 which brought the team two pennants and one World Championship. Following his career Maris was reluctant to return to Yankee Stadium because he felt the Yankees had lied to him prior to his departure from New York. George Steinbrenner convinced him to return to Yankee Stadium on Opening Day of the 1978 season when both Maris and Mantle would be introduced together. It proved to be a rewarding experience for Maris and he returned regularly after that as long as his health permitted. Maris said he suffered from physical ailments later in life due to playing with reckless abandon during his playing career by breaking up double plays and running into outfield walls. He said if he had to do it over again he would have been more careful with his health. Unfortunately years of smoking five packs of Camel cigarettes a day for several years did their damage ultimately causing damage to his throat. He quit smoking during the mid-1970s and passed away from cancer on December 14, 1985.
Maris won consecutive MVP awards in 1960 and 1961 and his defensive play is often overlooked in evaluating his qualifications for the Baseball Hall of Fame. Unfortunately, politics often plays a part as to who is elected and Maris was never one to be a self-promoter. It irritates me to know that when Mark McGuire broke Maris's home run record when he knew he was on steroids he still had the audacity to go to the box seats in St. Louis to hug members of the Maris family knowing he had passed Maris illegally.
I especially enjoyed reading this book because the year 1961 has special memories for me since my Detroit Tigers were a significant part of the pennant race that year. Maris never intended to denigrate Babe Ruth, but obviously he would want the record. The problem among Yankee fans was if anyone was to break the Babe's record (and they weren't sure anyone should) the wrong man was breaking it. They believed it should have been Mantle and not this interloper from North Dakota.
Whether you remember these historic years from the 1960s or not any self-respecting baseball fan needs this book in their library.

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The definitive biography of the baseball legend who broke Babe Ruth's single-season home-run record—the natural way—and withstood a firestorm of media criticism to become one of his era's preeminent players. ROGER MARIS may be the greatest ballplayer no one really knows. In 1961, the soft-spoken man from the frozen plains of North Dakota enjoyed one of the most amazing seasons in baseball history, when he outslugged his teammate Mickey Mantle to become the game's natural home-run king. It was Mantle himself who said, "Roger was as good a man and as good a ballplayer as there ever was." Yet Maris was vilified by fans and the press and has never received his due from biographers—until now. Tom Clavin and Danny Peary trace the dramatic arc of Maris's life, from his boyhood in Fargo through his early pro career in the Cleveland Indians farm program, to his World Series championship years in New York and beyond. At the center is the exciting story of the 1961 season and the ordeal Maris endured as an outsider in Yankee pinstripes, unloved by fans who compared him unfavorably to their heroes Ruth and Mantle, relentlessly attacked by an aggressive press corps who found him cold and inaccessible, and treated miserably by the organization. After the tremendous challenge of breaking Ruth's record was behind him, Maris ultimately regained his love of baseball as a member of the world champion St. Louis Cardinals. And over time, he gained redemption in the eyes of the Yankee faithful. With research drawn from more than 130 interviews with Maris's teammates, opponents, family, and friends, as well as 16 pages of photos, some of which have never before been seen, this timely and poignant biography sheds light on an iconic figure from baseball's golden era—and establishes the importance of his role in the game's history.

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Yastrzemski (Icons of Major League Baseball) Review

Yastrzemski (Icons of Major League Baseball)
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I was a 7 year old Red Sox fan when Yaz was a rookie in Boston and I attended his last game in 1983. As did many fans, I spent most of my life assuming his name would be third in the line-up that day. Yet, in a city that has an obsessive relationship with its baseball team, Yaz' place in the hearts of Red Sox fans is a curious one.
On the plus side, he almost singlehandedly lifted the Sox out of the mediocrity of the late Williams era and into the World Series in 1967. He was at his best in the clutch (7 hits in 8 at bats in the final deciding games that year). He was a 5 tool player, albeit in moderate amounts, a Hall of Famer, the last Triple Crown winner and the first in the AL with 3000 hits and 400 home runs.
On the other hand, he made the mistake of following the legendary Ted Williams in leftfield. He hit 40 home runs 3 times from 1967 to 1970 and, due to the effect of injuries, never approached those power levels again. Yaz made the last out in game 7 of the 75 World Series and the 78 playoff game against the Yankees, both of which were decided by one run. Most importantly, Yaz seemed to be a cranky guy, smoking cigarettes in the runway, uncomfortable in interviews and often fighting injuries. He did not have the majesty of Williams, the grace of Lynn or the charisma of the always smiling Luis Tiant.
This book is a perfect antidote to that image. In the first person, Yaz tells of his endless preparations growing up in Eastern Long Island as well as the passion, work and focus he brought to every game. In an amazingly frank revelation, he tells us: "I'll level with you; I never enjoyed it. I never had any fun." He explains that not having the natural size, power or ability of a Williams or Lynn, everything he did was the product of uncounted hours of work. At times in his career, he was booed by Boston fans.
We should have loved this guy. The son of a working farmer just across the Sound in Eastern Long Island, Yaz spent endless hours as a boy swinging a bat in an unheated barn through Northeastern winters. He and his dad spurned the Yankees' offer to play in Boston. He stayed in Boston for 23 years and did not make his contract signings into an annual "Maybe I'll stay" soap opera. And, most importantly, Yaz cared about every win and loss as much as we did.
Freddie Lynn was sometimes called "Beach." A South California kid, he could shrug off a tough loss and go on with his life. Yaz would rework each at bat in his mind after the game until he could let go and begin to prepare for the next game. Lynn is who we all wanted to be. Yaz is who we are. And if his swing or the final pitch had been one centimeter different in 75 or 78, there would never have been a Curse and Yaz' image would have eclipsed Ortiz, Fisk and Dave Henderson.
It's great to have Yaz back; baseball's version of Larry Bird (unfortunately without the rings.) This is also a great book about baseball in a more innocent time. There is a DVD included so younger fans can watch Yaz in his prime.

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An inspiring 23-year baseball odyssey laid bare, from one of the greatest hitters to play the game.When the season was on the line, Carl Yastrzemski made history. No New Englander who lived through the summer of 1967 will ever forget Yaz single-handedly powering the also-ran Red Sox through the tightest race ever--winning the American League pennant on the final day of the season. Leading the league in batting average, home runs and RBIs that year, Yaz became the last player to win baseball's Triple Crown.Now Yaz tells the very personal story of one of the most prolific and eventful careers in baseball. From Ted Williams to Carlton Fisk, from the "Impossible Dream" season to the Greatest Game Ever Played, Yastrzemski's story is filled with the greatest players and most exciting moments in baseball history.

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Throwing Smoke Review

Throwing Smoke
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"Did you like *Throwing Smoke*?" I asked my ten year old son.
"Yeah," he said.
"Were the characters convincing?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said.
"What about the dialogue?" I asked.
"It was great. But there was too much baseball. Or something."
The baseball, of course, was why I bought the book, and it seemed an odd statement coming from a child who wouldn't put down Will Weaver's baseball trilogy even to eat. Then I read the book.
The dialogue *is* funny; the book, well written, but the author places *Throwing Smoke* in a limbo of genre. When Whiz starts printing up baseball cards for fictional team players who mysteriously come to life, the book (*strongly* rooted in baseball and baseball terminology) turns towards the gothic. These players, all ace at what they do, are zombie like. Where do they go at night? What do they secretly talk about together? Why does nothing more interesting happen with them? Where the heck is this plot going?
*Thowing Smoke* raises more questions about its tepid supernatural effects than the baseball frame of the story can contain. I will avoid details, but when a story enters the world of the supernatural, rules must be followed, expectations must be met. In *Throwing Smoke*, they aren't. As for the baseball team-comraderie part of the book, well, that's not very compelling either -- the supernatural material is too distracting. *Throwing Smoke*, much as I wanted to like it, pulls in two direction and can't come up with a reconciliation between the two. The book needs a fast ball, but it just can't deliver.

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