"We Would Have Played For Nothing" is based on a concept originated by Lawrence Ritter in "The Glory of Their Times," one of the most well-respected baseball books out there. The concept is to let the players tell the stories in their own words, with the author getting out of the way, except as an editor. The Glory of Their Times contained interviews with some serious old-timers, of varying degrees of notoriety. The beauty of the concept was getting these players down on paper, before they were too old to carry forward the oral history of the majors. The downside of that book was that players would sometimes ramble, and while the lesser known players could offer an interesting perspective, they often did not.
This time the author is former MLB commissioner Fay Vincent, and he focuses on starts of the 50s and 60s. There are no interviews here with backup utility infielders. All but one of the interviews is with a true "star;" Bill Rigney was a long-time manager, and was fairly well known at the time, but was not much of a player. Another of the interviews is with a lesser star, Ralph Branca, famous for giving up the "shot heard round the world." Certainly a very good pitcher.
The rest of the guys are mostly household names. Frank and Brooks Robinson. Whitey Ford, Harmon Killebrew, Duke Snider, Robin Roberts. Even Lew Burdette and Carl Erskine, who don't fall into the household categories, were genuinely great pitchers in their day.
Perhaps because the players are more well-known, and because the time period is closer to us (though still primarily before I was born), "We Would Have Played For Nothing" is a fun read. Vincent's touch is not as light as Ritter's, and I think that's a good thing. Vincent has written a short (one page) introduction to the players, in case you don't know who they are. The rest comes from the players themselves.
It is apparent that they are responding to particular questions, and not just rambling on about whatever strikes their fancy. It is also clear that there was a lot of cleanup, because the player comments have a lot of data. I don't believe this many players could have absolute recall of game scores from 50 years ago, and there's a ton of that peppered in their comments.
I raced through the book...it is very accessible. If I had to complain about anything it would be the organization within each player's comments. I'm not sure if the players' comments are presented in the same order in which they were given on videotape tot he author, but if so, the ordering of the questions (not printed in the book) seems a little disjointed. It isn't obvious at the beginning. There's no surprise a player would ramble. But you start to see the pattern by the end of the book. There's always a section near the end about who the player thought the best players were, and the last question is clearly along the lines of "How would you like to be remembered?"
The most refreshing thing about the book is how humble and appreciative these players are, even though they were vastly underpaid. There's a lot in here about contract negotiations and their salaries, which means there's a lot in here about how stingy the owners were. Brooks Robinson tells of his GM saying he couldn't pay Brooks' requested salary because that's what Mickey Mantle made when the GM worked for the Yankees. There was no attempt to value the player. They just made him feel guilty for the request; like you know you aren't as good as Mantle, so stop pretending. In another situation with Robinson, they made him feel guilty for requesting $500 a year. This was in the 60s...$500 wasn't that much money.
Or Frank Robinson being told by the Reds GM he was going to cut his salary. The GM said "I hear your reputation, you don't always hustle." When Robinson asked where he got his information, the GM basically said that's just what I've heard, so I'm cutting your salary. Just an excuse to avoid paying Robinson, who had just turned in a season where he hit .296 with 33 HR and 113 RBI...and this was in the 60s, with suppressed offensive levels. The players didn't have agents. (Robinson, by the way, is the only player entry that shows a hint of bitterness).
Anyone interested in baseball and baseball history would enjoy this book. If you aren't from that era, you'll learn a lot about baseball in the 50s and 60s, and in an entertaining way. I'll leave you with an example:
Frank Robinson tells a story about batting against Don Drysdale, which he said was like "wrestling a horse or a mule, or being in a fight. That's how tired I would be after the ballgame." One time, with Robinson at the plate, the Dodger manager signaled to Drysdale that he should put Robinson on base. Instead of an intentional walk, or pitching around him, Drysdale drilled him in the ribs. When asked later, Drysdale said "Why waste three pitches?"
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Book Review: Ed Barrow
Ed Barrow was one of the first general managers, and he built the Yankees' dynasties in the 30s and 40s. Hence the title "Ed Barrow: The Bulldog Who Built the Yankees' First Dynasty." The book is written by Daniel Levitt, the co-author of Paths to Glory, which won a SABR award for research.
And that's where the primary value of "Ed Barrow" comes in: its research. It reminds me, in some ways, of a political biography, although Barrow never held office and probably could not have. There's a feeling here that Levitt read every in-house memo with the clubs and read Barrow's diary and private correspondence. You get the kind of details that could only come from sources like those. And because Barrow was league president (in the minors) and a GM, you get a lot of financial information about turn of the century baseball, like the chart showing team profits, dividends and retained earnings from 1920-1924.
So in that regard, it is a valuable book. The kind you are glad was written. But as a read, it can be a little dry. The first half of the book is dedicated to his pre-Yankee years in baseball, which consisted mostly of various managing, ownership and administrative roles in minor leagues. The Minors were different back then, and the book provides some insights into how the Minors interacted with the Majors, and how much different it was then, than now. However, the detail in this part of the book is almost overwhelming, and perhaps too voluminous to remain interesting for 100+ pages.
The most interesting portions revolve around attempts to form new Minor leagues, and in some cases, new Major leagues, like the Federal League and even the American League. Barrow had a role in many of these through his relationship with the baseball intelligentsia.
Barrow then gets tapped to manage the Red Sox, at a time when Babe Ruth was on the mound. The book begins to pick up the pace about this point, although the focus remains on Barrow's relationship with management much more than his relationship with players. There are few anecdotes about the players here; even one as colorful as Ruth. Barrow's relationship with Harry Frazee, the owner of the Sox who eventually sells Ruth to the Yankees, starts the transition to the more familiar aspects of baseball history.
The Yankees portion of the book does not show off as much research, though I trust it was done. Perhaps that's because the names here (Ruth, Gehrig, Dimaggio) are more familiar and the second half is less dry. I have to compliment the author, though, because the book avoids the biographer's trap of talking too much about the players and the games, and not enough about the subject.
Not only is there a nice recap of those early Yankee teams, you learn a lot about baseball's transactional rules (e.g., waivers and the 40 man roster) and how those developed. (Hint: it's like watching the owners making sausage). The trouble is, for an incredibly important baseball pioneer, I didn't find Barrow himself all that interesting. Probably his most interesting quirk is his love for boxing, and his penchant for confrontation.
All-in-all, this book adds valuable information to the baseball archives, and allows the reader to learn a number of things about the minor leagues, their relationship with the majors, and the behind-the-scenes decision making that the major league clubs engaged in regarding the players. I would not call it a "must read" or a "light read." It is not for the casual fan. However, if you are a member of SABR and enjoy their various publications, you will get a lot out of this book.
And that's where the primary value of "Ed Barrow" comes in: its research. It reminds me, in some ways, of a political biography, although Barrow never held office and probably could not have. There's a feeling here that Levitt read every in-house memo with the clubs and read Barrow's diary and private correspondence. You get the kind of details that could only come from sources like those. And because Barrow was league president (in the minors) and a GM, you get a lot of financial information about turn of the century baseball, like the chart showing team profits, dividends and retained earnings from 1920-1924.
So in that regard, it is a valuable book. The kind you are glad was written. But as a read, it can be a little dry. The first half of the book is dedicated to his pre-Yankee years in baseball, which consisted mostly of various managing, ownership and administrative roles in minor leagues. The Minors were different back then, and the book provides some insights into how the Minors interacted with the Majors, and how much different it was then, than now. However, the detail in this part of the book is almost overwhelming, and perhaps too voluminous to remain interesting for 100+ pages.
The most interesting portions revolve around attempts to form new Minor leagues, and in some cases, new Major leagues, like the Federal League and even the American League. Barrow had a role in many of these through his relationship with the baseball intelligentsia.
Barrow then gets tapped to manage the Red Sox, at a time when Babe Ruth was on the mound. The book begins to pick up the pace about this point, although the focus remains on Barrow's relationship with management much more than his relationship with players. There are few anecdotes about the players here; even one as colorful as Ruth. Barrow's relationship with Harry Frazee, the owner of the Sox who eventually sells Ruth to the Yankees, starts the transition to the more familiar aspects of baseball history.
The Yankees portion of the book does not show off as much research, though I trust it was done. Perhaps that's because the names here (Ruth, Gehrig, Dimaggio) are more familiar and the second half is less dry. I have to compliment the author, though, because the book avoids the biographer's trap of talking too much about the players and the games, and not enough about the subject.
Not only is there a nice recap of those early Yankee teams, you learn a lot about baseball's transactional rules (e.g., waivers and the 40 man roster) and how those developed. (Hint: it's like watching the owners making sausage). The trouble is, for an incredibly important baseball pioneer, I didn't find Barrow himself all that interesting. Probably his most interesting quirk is his love for boxing, and his penchant for confrontation.
All-in-all, this book adds valuable information to the baseball archives, and allows the reader to learn a number of things about the minor leagues, their relationship with the majors, and the behind-the-scenes decision making that the major league clubs engaged in regarding the players. I would not call it a "must read" or a "light read." It is not for the casual fan. However, if you are a member of SABR and enjoy their various publications, you will get a lot out of this book.
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