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Sparky Lyle in . . . The Nagging Question
2007-06-15 14:54
Cheers for Mark Harris, Part 2 My favorite baseball book is The Southpaw, but it wasn’t always that way. For a while there, before I knew of Henry Wiggen, the tale of a different lefty topped the list. And I still owe a big debt to him. Sparky Lyle got me writing. His diary-style recounting of the tumultuous 1978 season, The Bronx Zoo (written with the help of Peter Golenbock), came out in 1979 when I was 11. I bought it that summer, when my brother and I were in New York City for our annual visit to see our dad. The cover featured a picture of a baseball festooned with a walrus mustache. The mustache bulged up above the otherwise flat surface of the cover, like the raised letters on the front of a Harlequin Romance. I practically went into cardiac arrest from laughing while reading the book on the busride home. My brother and I had always seemed to find a way to laugh our asses off on that 8-hour ride. In earlier years we’d done it by filling in all the blank spaces in Mad Libs with swear words, or coming up with obscenity-laced versions of common acronyms such as FBI and CIA (this latter riff beginning with the two of us inventing “blue” versions for the UFP acronym on my brother’s official United Federation of Planets Star Trek T-shirt). I don’t remember anything particularly funny from the homeward busrides in the years after the Bronx Zoo hilarity, however, which suggests that Lyle’s descriptions of clubhouse pranks and dugout fueds provided our last Greyhound hurrah. By the summer of 1979 my brother had become a teenager, while I was still a kid, the two-year gap between us never wider, and so by then in most settings he reacted to my pestering demands for his attention by, first, totally ignoring me, then if that didn’t work fixing me with a brief glowering stare, and finally if I still kept at it unleashing a spring-loaded backhand punch to my upper arm. But I guess the regular rules were—up to and including that summer but not beyond it—suspended for our busride home from seeing our father. In that moment of suspension between parents it was the two of us against the world, laughing. And in that last laughing busride we had Lyle’s book open between us, painting a graphic picture of grown men acting like children: bickering, playing baseball, cursing, playing baseball, getting in fistfights, playing baseball, and, in the most memorable running gag, perpetrated repeatedly by the book’s narrator upon a string of teammates, sitting bare-assed and ruinously on birthday cakes. All this must have been reassuring to me. If they haven’t grown up, maybe I don’t have to grow up, I thought. Baseball can go on, laughing my ass off can go on, feeling like I’m part of a team can go on. All these things had buoyed my childhood, and though I didn’t consciously note their imminent departure from my life, the fact is they were all on the brink of diminishing, and on some level I must have sensed this. So I seized on Lyle’s book, which is another way of saying I loved it. And when the following year’s little league season came around, my final little league season, I decided to emulate Sparky Lyle. My father had recently given me a diary and had implored me to write something in it every day. The cover of the diary was denim. It had gnomes on it. In fact, it was called a Gnome Gnotebook. It took all my strength not to beat my own ass for owning it. But the evening after my team's first little league practice of the year I ignored the gnomes and began to write, hoping that my increasingly mundane life would instantly burst into side-splitting hijinx. A few years later, during my college years and in a tantrum of frustration at still not being able get down on the page anything close to resembling what was inside me, I tossed all my writing notebooks (including the Gnotebook) into a dumpster. But I still remember the sentence that started my lifelong attempt to write down my life. I was trying to be sardonic and weathered, a crusty self-deprecating veteran. I guess I was probably trying to sound like Sparky Lyle. And I was trying to tell the truth. “I couldn’t lay my glove on anything today, much less my bat,” I wrote. II. III. What is your favorite baseball book?
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Bob ApodacaBruce Boisclair Steve Henderson Dave Kingman Jerry Koosman Lee Mazzilli Len Randle Tom Seaver Craig Swan? Joe Torre New York Yankees
Wade BoggsRon Guidry Steve Howe Reggie Jackson, 1977 Tommy John, 1980 Alex Johnson Sparky Lyle Billy Martin Rudy May Gene Michael Thurman Munson Lou Piniella Luis Tiant, 1980 Cecil Upshaw Oakland A's
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Jack ClarkJohn D'Acquisto Darrell Evans Vic Harris Garry Maddox, 1975 Greg Minton Bobby Murcer Joe Strain Seattle Mariners
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honorable mentions:
i always enjoyed those little yellow reference paperbacks that came out every year on pitchers and such, i can't remember what they are called.
'baseball town' by bob whittemore, mainly because it's a history of the minor league clubs of my hometown.
'the science of hitting' by ted williams. it's scary how much this guy thought about hitting. i read 'my turn at bat' as well, but didn't enjot it nearly as much.
Nonfiction: The Glory of Their Times
I think my favorite baseball book, though, was Philip Roth's "The Great American Novel," about a fictional team (the Ruppert Mundys) in a fictional third major league that was condemned to play a whole season on the road.
Ritter, The Glory of Their Times
Honig, Baseball When the Grass Was Real
Kahn, The Boys of Summer
Flood, The Way It Is
Veeck and Linn, Veeck as in Wreck
D'Antonio, Invincible Summer
Fainaru and Sanchez, The Duke of Havana
James, The Historical Baseball Abstract (1985 edition)
Di Salvatore, A Clever Base Ballist
Bouton, Ball Four
Lewis, Moneyball
As you can see, I was never much for baseball fiction.
I don't know what my favorite is now, but I read "The Greatest Slump of All Time" by David Carkeet a few months ago and enjoyed it. It's not like any other baseball book I've heard of.
Non-Fiction: Ball 4 by Jim Bouton, but I haven't read it since I was a kid.
The answer historical: Eight Men Out
The answer fictional: The Iowa Baseball Confederacy
The answer cliched-yet-nevertheless-true: Ball Four
The answer analytical: Bill James' Historical Baseball Abstract
The answer personal: The Thinking Fan's Guide to Baseball
Current faves
"The Wrong Stuff" - Bill Lee and Dick Lally
I just saw the Spaceman with Oil Can Boyd and some other ex-Sox in a charity softball game against some local PD. He signed my 22 year old paperback and we talked about Jim Willoughby.
"The Long Season" - "Ball Four" is often listed as a seminal book, but this was 10 years older, written without a ghost and Brosnan liked his martinis.
"The Bill James Guide To Managers" - I keep referring to this as I do research on Billy Southworth.
Ask me again in another month.
Things I remember from The Bronx Zoo (which I read with joy at age 10):
-Lyle talking about Lou Pinella twirling his hair in his fingers and smelling it
-Lyle slamming parents who let their kids wear 'Boston sucks' shirts and and asking if an endorsement of oral sex on a t-shirt was good parenting
-Lyle describing the normally humble Ron Guidry talking about how he was going to set the strikeout record before facing the hapless Mariners (or was it the Blue Jays?) and getting shelled in the start.
-Lyle talking about Rawly Eastwick's snakebitten season. I grew up a little reading about Eastwick's troubles with injuries, confidence, and just plain getting an opportunity. I had never really considered the effects of all of the above on the athletes I followed but have always considered them after reading the Bronx Zoo.
-Lyle crediting the '78 Red Sox with being the second best team in baseball and trashing the '78 Dodgers and their 'Dodger Blue' spirit. I believe he said Dodgers SS Bill Russell couldn't field a groundball with a shovel.
Man did I love that book.
If you like Field of Dreams or not, Shoeless Joe is a great read.
I haven't read it in nearly 20 years, but I can remember loving the "Best Team that Money Can Buy" by Steve Jacobson. It was an expose on the 1977 Yankees.
I also loved this book titled "How I would pitch to Babe Ruth" by Tom Seaver. Seaver discussed his strategy on how he would have pitched against the greatest hitters of all-time. I'm sure it was more of a book that connects with a 10 year-old than being a literary classic, though.
The Ultimate Baseball Book is a spectacular history of the game.
Lately my fave baseball book is 86 Years: The Story of the Boston Red Sox -- it's a kids' picture book about the 2004 Sox, written in a written in a "Casey at the Bat" sort of cadence. My 20-month-old daughter loves it, probably because her dad always gets so impassioned and even choked up at certain key points in the story...
Also gotta mention:
O Holy Cow, the Rizzuto found-poetry book, is priceless.
Bill Lee's book, The Wrong Stuff.
Roger Angell's The Summer Game
Was I the only Alfred Slote reader here?
My off-the-wall favorite is Warren Cromartie's "Slugging it out in Japan."
Another good one: "Sadaharu Oh: A Zen Way of Baseball" by David Falkner.
Coover's book is one of the best pieces of fiction I've ever read, period.
As a kid, I loved the John R. Tunis books about baseball, maybe in part because the team he wrote about was named the Dodgers. Reviews from a UT-Arlington person here:
http://tinyurl.com/2rnetj
"Eight Men Out" was excellent.
"How Life Imitates the World Series" by Tom Boswell is fun.
"The Golden Game: The Story of California Baseball" by Kevin Nelson
"The Pacific Coast League" by Bill O'Neal
"It's Gone! ...No, Wait a Minute..." by Ken Levine
I will also mention "If I Never Get Back" by Darryl Brock. It's historical fiction following the 1869 Cincinnati Red Stockings. The fiction part didn't do much for me but the research is amazing. All the players and game accounts from that season are accurate and seeing how the game was played back then was fascinating.
Other tops would be "Ball Four," anything by W.P. Kinsella (his short story collection "The Thrill of the Grass" is marvelous) or Roger Angell, and "The Man Who Brought The Dodgers Back to Brooklyn" by David Ritz. I had it as a kid, lost it in a move, and (in the pre-Amazon era) spent years trying to find another copy before succeeding. In my search, I ran across more than one used bookseller who had one, but wouldn't sell it, because it was his personal copy.
The first book that popped into my head was Slote's Jake. I remember it quite fondly. Hang Tough... was another great one.
I'm a bit surprised that no one mentioned Ron Luciano's The Umpire Strikes Back.
The Bill James Baseball Abstract opened my eyes, and I was absolutely bug-eyed reading Moneyball.
Kerrane: Dollar Sign on the Muscle
Lewis: Moneyball
James: Historical Abstract
Base Ball:
DiSalvatore: A Clever Base-Ballist
Nemec: The Beer and Whisky League
Ryczek: When Johnny Came Sliding Home, Blackguards & Red Stockings
Journalism:
Bouton: Ball 4
Whiting: You Gotta Have Wa
Okrent: Nine Innings
Anything by Roger Angell
Mets:
Vescey: Joy in Mudville
Pearlman: The Bad Guys Won
Klapisch: The Worst Team Money Can Buy
Hang on, still writing ...
Mr. Rickey felt that Honus Wagner was the greatest baseball player of all time and that Christy Mathewson may have been the best pitcher ever.
I must have read that book 50 times.
I know Bill Ryczek a little. He's in the local SABR chapter and I see him several times a year.
I included the Ryczek books just because as far as I know they're the best (only?) attempts to do a comprehensive history of the earliest baseball leagues. I have to say though that I wouldn't have cared a thing for 19th century ball had I not read DiSalvatore's book first. That opened up that whole world to me.
The "Bill James Abstracts" totally changed how I viewed baseball. I can reread those anytime and still enjoy them.
Looking forward to reading "Soul of Baseball" which I just got yesterday.
Best book I recall reading as a kid was Joe Pepitone's book "Joe, You Coulda Made Us Proud." Damn that was good. Stories of him shagging like 5 women a night, into the wee small hours of the morning. One story had him and Mantle tag-teaming a chick, and then the two players broke into hysterical laughter when the woman took out her false teeth to give them blow jobs. They crippled in laughter. That one stays with you for a lifetime.....
I really enjoyed "Fleet Walker's Divided Heart" by David Zang. It's about the first black major leaguer (no, it wasn't Jackie Robinson) from the 1880s. I enjoyed this book not so much for its writing, but for its subject matter. This player was a fascinating man, and extremely bright. The racism he faced was unreal. He was even tried for killing a man, which resulted from another event of racial hatred. Very telling story.
35 George Will, huh? Alright, I guess if future Nazi sympathizer Knut Hamsun was able in his earlier years to write one of the greatest novels ever written (Hunger), I guess it's possible that that weenie can write a good baseball book. Thanks for the tip, joyofsox.
ball four (smoke 'em inside!)
the glory of their times
moneyball
men at work
the boys of summer
i also enjoyed:
the catcher in the wry (bob uecker)
willie's time
the complete handbook of baseball (yearly from 1978 to 1982)
bunts (george will)
bunts had brett butler on the cover, and was a collection of short stories or articles about different players or situations. one i recall had the cincinnati reds' plane hitting severe turbulence and pete rose turned to a teammate and said "we're going down, and i have a .300 lifetime average. what have you got?"
good stuff.
Halberstam. Rest in peace. W.C. Heinz. The genius who started it all, albeit writing about football and boxing.Just the best. Ring Lardner. And, as a special memorial, Christy Matheseon, the man who gave us the Black Sox scandal.
For Mark Harris fans, the Nixon book seriously rocks. Harris wrote for Life. Followed the campaign for Governor of CA against Edmund Brown. Talks about unbiased reporters having to cover a candidate that he has some preconceived ideas about and how little it matters once the final piece is edited. Brilliant.
I'm in no way a business mind, but that hardly matters. The larger-than-life personas of Charles O. Finley, Ted Turner, George Steinbrenner, and all the rest are fully on display. It's almost certainly out of print (my ragged paperback copy is from 1994, I believe), but you owe it to yourself to find a used copy.
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