Friday, January 14, 2011

A simple choice

In a similar vein as Mark Harris' Henry Wiggen with a touch of Ring Lardner's Jack Keefe, Rick Norman presents Andrew Jackson Fielder. Fielder's Choice (August House: 1991) is a baseball memoir with "Jax" Fielder recalling his life as a small-town Arkansas pitcher and war veteran. Narrating his life to an unnamed Army officer after the war, Jax paints a roller coaster of a story. As a high school pitcher, Fielder invents the "gooseball", a sidearm throw that seemed to rise as it closed on the plate. Fielder's success with the gooseball eventually earns him a spot on the St. Louis Browns. Like Wiggen and Keefe, Fielder is a rather simple soul who innocently moves about in a complicated world.

Fielder's career with the Browns in short. He signs in 1940, spends much of the 1941 season with the minor league Toledo Mudhens, and then is called up in August to try and help the Browns secure a pennant. Unfortunately, Fielder's ultimate claim to fame in baseball is not his pitching (despite his brilliance on the mound), but his error in the final game of the season that would have brought the Brownies the pennant. Of course, this being the fall of 1941, any hope for a lengthy career (and restoring his reputation) are cut short when America is drawn into the War.

Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, Jax immediately volunteers. He is eventually sent into combat in the spring of 1945 as a gunner on a B-29. In Norman's continuing tale of lucky ups and downs, Fielder is "ejected" over Japan after his plane is attacked. He is captured and sent to a POW camp. At the camp, however, his identity as a Major League pitcher is discovered by a Japanese admiral who has Fielder transferred to his personal care. The admiral's wish is for Jax to teach the admiral's son, Yoshi, to pitch. And Fielder obliges.

While Fielder is a rather simple individual, but his life is full of complications. Because of his trusting personality, though, he doesn't fully realize just how convoluted his life really becomes until much later. Jax blindly accepts the role of pitching coach, but in seemingly innocent conversations with the admiral blurts out possibly damaging intelligence because he feels he's no longer serving in the Army. And his encounters with his sister-in-law, Dixie, gradually cause discord between himself and his brothers. Overall, Fielder's boat of life appears to follow a downward spiral solely due to Jax's innocence. But like Henry Wiggen, in the end he bobs to the surface without any serious damage.

Fielder's Choice is a charming tale of decency and honor amidst darkness and obstacles. The comparisons with The Southpaw and You Know Me Al are unavoidable, but Fielder's Choice is wonderful in its own terms. The character of Jax Fielder is certainly not Jack Keefe - while he is a simpleton, his naivete does not stretch as far as that of Lardner's character. And while the similarities between Fielder and Wiggen are closer, Fielder actually handles his situations in a much more mature manner. His displays of bravery and principle, I think, are much deeper than found in Henry Wiggen. This is a highly enjoyable story and one to be added to any collection.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Ron Chapman: why not the next Joe DiMaggio?

Rookie superstars are always compared to stars of previous generations. Carl Yastrzemski was to be the next Ted Williams - and that was understandable as he followed so closely with Williams' departure. Similarly, when Bobby Bonds was introduced as the newest Giants outfielder, he was touted as the next Willie Mays.

Ron Chapman is the rookie phenom of the New York Barons in John Hough, Jr.'s The Conduct of the Game (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt: 1986). Chapman actually plays a minor supporting role in the story, acting partly as antagonist to the novel's central character, umpire Lee Malcolm, as well as a representative of racism and bigotry during the book's 1960s setting. Actual prejudice, however, is never really displayed by anyone. Chapman relays his feelings of being biased against through his statements toward Malcolm. He feels that his race is the ultimate reason calls are made against him. When he is compared to Willie Mays by a sportswriter, he fires back - asking why he shouldn't be called the next Joe DiMaggio or Babe Ruth.

Chapman is fond of stating that his struggle through baseball has been akin to "picking cotton." But his record does not bear out the type of obstacles that one would associate with someone having to overcome racial bias. He is a graduate of UCLA, spent one year in both A and AAA ball before being promoted to the Majors. Hough portrays Chapman, though, as the stereotypical African American with a two-hundred year chip on his shoulder. Chapman is driven, and arrogant and seemingly in the hunt for a fight. But there seems to be a degree of conflict within Chapman in regards to racial inequality. In several instances - such as when called out in a close play, or tossed from a game, his response is one of "you can't do that", but when umpire Malcolm tries to settle tensions down by using Chapman's first name, Chapman's retort is one of "you don't know me" (as in "you don't know where I'm from or what I've had to endure").

Overall, because one of the underlying themes of the book revolves around prejudice, Chapman's character is never allowed to fully change in the main character's mind. But we do learn that Chapman has a different side - he helps disadvantaged youths, has been arrested during Civil Rights protests, and even becomes involved with a white woman. In a story centered around Ron Chapman I think we would see his character evolve to be more sympathetic. And that might mean that instead of playing with a scowl of distrust, Chapman would wear a smile (and display a love for the game) that would result in him being the next DiMaggio or Mantle or Robinson or, even Willie Mays.