World War I (1917-1918)
You Know Me Al, Ring Laudner (1916)
Treat 'em Rough, Ring Laudner (1918)
World War II (1942-1945)
Keystone Kids, John Tunis (1943)
Rookie of the Year, John Tunis (1944)
The Kid Comes Back, John Tunis (1946)
Soldier at Bat, Jackson Scholtz (1942)
Korea (1950-1953) The Long Discovery, John Burgan (1950)
Behold, Thy Brother, Murrell Edmunds (1950)
College Slugger, Ed Fitzgerald (1950)
The Sunlit Field, Lucy Kennedy (1950)
Bonus Rookie, Frank O'Rourke (1950)
High, Inside!, R.G. Emery
The Big Out, Arnold Hano (1951)
Yankee Rookie, Ed Fitzgerald (1952)
The Natural, Bernard Malamud (1952)
Never Come Back, Frank O'Rourke (1952)
Nine Good Men, Frank O'Rourke (1952)
The Southpaw, Mark Harris (1953)
The Catcher and the Manager, Frank O'Rourke (1953)
The Hard Way, Jack Weeks (1953)
Viet Nam (1961-1975)
The Orange Air, Roy Doliner (1961)
Squeeze Play, John Balmer (1961)
A Pennant for the Kremlin, Roy Molloy (1964)
Baseball's Darkest Days, Kenneth L. Grantham (1965)
Today's Games, Martin Quigley (1965)
Voices of a Summer Day, Irwin Shaw (1965)
Letters from Lefty, Mickey Herskowitz (1966)
The Bedfellows, Eliot Asinov (1967)
From Brooklyn With Love, Gerald Green (1967)
The Chosen, Chaim Potok (1967)
The Universal Baseball Association, Robert Coover (1968)
The Last Man is Out, Marvin Karlins (1969)
Superbaby, Felix Mendelson (1969)
Runner Mack, Barry Beckham (1972)
Sam's Legacy, Jay Neugeboren (1973)
The Bingo Long Travelling All-Stars and Motor Kings, William Brashler (1973)
A Great Day for a Ball Game, Fielding Dawson (1973)
Babe Ruth Caught in a Snowstorm, John Alexandder Graham (1973)
Wild Pitch, A.B. Guthrie (1973)
A Grand Slam, Ray Puechner (1973)
The Great American Novel, Philip Roth (1973)
The Devil to Play, Leonard Holton (1974)
Flawless Play Restored, Gilbert Sorrentino (1974)
All G.O.D.'s Children, John Craig (1975)
The Sensation, Norman Keifetz (1975)
Mortal Stakes, Robert B. Parker (1975)
Iraq / Afganistan (2003-present)
Screwball, David Ferrell (2003)
Coyote Moon, John A. Miller (2003)
The Spring Habit, David Hanson (2004)
Waiting for Teddy Williams, Howard Frank Mosher (2004)
Jumpin' Jimminy, Richard Skole (2004)
King of Diamonds, Don Strachan (2004)
Double Play, Robert D. Parker (2005)
Trolley Dodgers, Jeff Stanger (2005)
Suitcase Sefton and the American Dream, Jay Fedlman (2006)
Heat, Mike Lupica (2006)
Miko Kings, Leanne Howe (2007)
The End of Baseball, Peter Shilling (2008)
Dirty Water, A Red Sox Mystery, Mary-Anne Smith (2008)
The Housekeeper and the Professor, Yoko Ogawa (2009)
Change Up, John Feinstein (2009)
Home, Away, Jeff Gillenkirk (2010)
The Man with Two Arms, Billy Lombardo (2010)
Blockade Billy, Stephen King (2010)
Diamond Ruby, Joseph Wallace (2011)
(Not a complete lineup of novels written during war time, but a pretty good representation. Salutes to both real veterans, fictional veterans and veteran novelists.)
For most of the past year, or so, I have been putting together a baseball fiction database. I started out simply wanting to have a mechanism to catalog my collection - a listing of titles with authors, when the book was published and whether it was hardcover or soft, and maybe a brief summary of the plot.
Well, over time I've expanded the database to include not only a plot summary, but subject terms. And, I've added related datasets for fictional team names and character names. The biggest part of the project is the characters, of course. Originally, I'd thought only to include the protagonist and the principle supporting characters. But, as things go, I ended up deciding to include every character - no matter how small. So the list now includes names of people who may have only been named once, or in passing. And, I've also decided to add actual people (like Mel Ott or Christy Mathewson) since many novels incorporate actual events, or teams, or people in supporting roles. And some, like Veracruz Blues, for expample, are almost entirely populated by actual people. The addition of historical characters meant I had to add a field to denote the real folks. And, it has meant an added layer of research - to identify those people if they occur. An interesting note - some people, like Babe Ruth, appear in multiple stories, so they will end up being recorded several times in the database.
I've got a lot of work to do. Creating the main catalog of books was simple, but I now spend time each week going back one book at a time to identify the characters and the role they play in the story. This is rather time consuming since it involves, basically, re-reading the story so as not to miss anything. I try to go back over one book each week. And, if I'm reading something new, I carry around a notepad or piece of paper to write names (and teams) down as I go along. So, perhaps in a year, or so, I'll have updated the database so that it will be a comprehensive database of baseball fiction - or at least of those titles I've read.
Keep you posted.
Eliot Asinof's classic Man on Spikes (McGraw-Hill: 1955) is the minor league odyssey of outfielder Mike Kutner; his quest to get to the majors thwarted at every turn, despite his admirable play. His story is told by a series of different voices: by the people he meets and interacts with along the way. One of those people is Charlie Caulfield, a clown in flannels and stirrups. His life intersects with Kutners' while the two are playing outfield for the Houston Steers, a AA team in the fictional Chicago Lions farm system of the 1940s.
Caulfield started playing professional ball on a lark. As a college graduate he could have gone into business with a friend, but decided to play around for a few years with a local Class B team. His hitting was good enough to get him noticed by the AA Steers and, with a draft deferment - this was 1941 and Caulfield had a punctured eardrum - he had good timing. But he quickly discovered that being the "funny man" would help him stay with the team far longer than his skills.
Once, when hitting a ball back to the pitcher, he was so frustrated that instead of even trying to run to first base, he headed toward third base, instead. The pitcher and third basemen were so confused that they got Caulfield in a rundown between third and home until Caulfield finally sat down and laughed out loud. As Asinof put it: "he gave up even trying to be a real ball player; he was getting paid to be a freak."
Caulfield plays the fool to the story's leading character's professionalism. Charlie lives life for the moment and is seemingly rewarded for it. And, despite all his efforts, Kutner struggles to realize his goals. Caulfield points out that lightening up will help Mike's situation. That "people will like you more. It helps to be liked..." Friendship and being amicable are more valuable than sweating and working hard, and will help advance a person farther.
With the serious-minded, and naturally-skilled Kutner next to him in center field, though, Caulfield eventually finds himself reevaluating what he's become. In a telling moment in the locker room, Caulfield feels his insides churning, wanting not to have to go out and "perform" once again, but to fake an illness and take the night off. He sits on the bench next to Kutner feeling tired and old. His thoughts lead him to be absent-minded in his play, to the point of misplaying a fly ball and having Kutner admonish him for not "being in the game." In the 9th inning, however, Caulfield pulls himself together and redeems himself, through his own unique style, by scoring the winning run. His action and humor actually bring a smile to Mike Kutner's face, restoring Charlie's belief in himself.
Caulfield's outlook on life (not to mention his luck) prove to be prophetic. While sitting out a season serving his country in the Aleutian islands during the 1944 season, Kutner learns that his former teammate is playing centerfield for the St. Louis Cardinals. Listening to the radio broadcast of the World Series, Kutner hears how his former teammate misplays a flyball but adjusts to make a diving catch that saves the game.
Charlie Caulfield's role in Mike Kutner's story is limited to primarily his one featured chapter. But in addition to his appearance in the World Series, we are treated to a short aside that informs us that Caulfield eventually ends up as the third-string outfielder for the Lions. As this coincides to the end of Mike Kutner's career, we have to assume that it is also toward the end of Caulfield's, as well, since the two are roughly the same age.
Charlie Caulfield is one of the stronger supporting characters in Man on Spikes. His is a story that could stand on its own -- the story of the clown who made it to the Show.
I recently completed reading 56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports (Sports Illustrated: 2011). The story, by Kostya Kennedy, is not a novel, but Kennedy's treatment of Joe DiMaggio's feat reads a lot like fiction. More than just a simple retelling of one of baseball's greatest endeavours, Kennedy interjects the story with the mood and feel of the times.
Baseball, during the summer of 1941, took place while the world outside of America was at war. And the threat of America's involvement grew with each day. Kennedy's narration of the streak is interjected with headlines of the day, both internationally and nationally, so that his narration of each game during the streak is put in context. And, along with what is going on in Europe or Asia, are sprinklings of what the average fan thought about Joe and what was happening in the ballpark. Particularly interesting are Kennedy's tales of a gang of kids in the Bronx and the relationship between Joe and his first wife, Dorothy Arnold.
Now, I've read a few comments that Kennedy plays a little loose with some of the facts, or that his editors were not as sharp as they should have been (English monarchs are crowned at Westminster Abbey, not Westminster Hall), but these small things are easily overlooked when considering the bits about Wee Willie Keeler, about Joe's style of hitting (flat-footed with little stride), or insights from Pete Rose about his attempt at the record. It's these little sidenotes that ground the reader in reality - pulling you back into the present from that world of 70 years ago. 56 is an entertaining read, and Kennedy's style of writing makes it seem as if you are reading a fictionalized account - one that brings out the suspense and the sights and sounds of that summer in New York. In Kennedy's story, the streak is more than DiMaggio's endeavour, but how it touched so many people at the time.
Sometimes a baseball novel is not really about baseball, or it may not be so apparent. In the case of The Housekeeper and the Professor (Picador: 2009), none of the characters in Yoko Ogawa's story are baseball players or owners or associated with a team. Baseball, in fact, is a minor aspect to the plot, but does play an important role during the course of the story. Ogawa has crafted an absolutely wonderful story based on a very intriguing premise.
Due to an automobile accident, the Professor in Ogawa's novel, can only remember the last 80 minutes of his immediate past. The remainder of his memory is from his life prior to his accident. The professor was once a renown mathematics instructor whose life is reduced to spending his time solving contest puzzles in journals and magazines. He pins small notes to his clothes to remind him of who he is and of the people he might come in contact during his day.
The narrator is the latest in a long line of housekeepers the Professor's sister-in-law has hired to cook and clean up after him. She is a young mother of a 10-year old boy who the Professor names "Root" because the boy's hair cut reminds him of the square root symbol. Both the housekeeper and her son form bonds with the Professor that makes the story touching and memorable. The professor teaches each of his charges about the uniqueness of mathematics, while the housekeeper finds, in the professor, a parent-figure. Her son finds commonality with his mother's employer in baseball. Both he and the professor are fans of the Hanshin Tigers. But while the boy relentlessly follows the current-day Tigers, the professor roots for the Hanshin squad led by All-star pitcher Yujata Enatsu, who left the Tigers in 1975 - interestingly, the same year of the professor's accident.
The Housekeeper and the Professor, as I mentioned, is a heart-warming tale of human companionship and the lengths people will go to maintain connection with other people. Each morning, the housekeeper must re-introduce herself and the professor brings her into his life using his small notes and questions centered around prime numbers. The combination of mathematics and baseball make for an interesting plot device - one that works very well. And the bonds between each of the central characters seemingly grows stronger, despite the fact the professor cannot remember the woman or her son after the end of each day.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It is certainly a highlight of this year's reading lineup. As and aside, the novel was adapted to film in 2006 (The Professor's Beloved Equation: Koizumi) that was apparently done very close to the original story. It would be worth trying to locate a copy of this beautifully done story.
For those of you who enjoy reading alternative fiction (and baseball!) The End of Baseball (Ivan R. Dee: 2008) is a rare treat. Author Peter Schilling imagines what might have happened had a long-rumored attempt by Veeck to integrate baseball did, in fact, occur. As the rumor goes, during the 1940s, Veeck planned to purchase the Phillies and stock it with Negro League stars but then-commissioner Kennisaw Mountain Landis vetoed the purchase. In the alternate-reality created by Schilling, Veeck purchases the flailing Philadelphia A's from Connie Mack and replaces the roster of white players with African-American ballplayers such as Satchel Paige, Buck Leonard, and Josh Gibson. Landis is thwarted through the intervention of politicians and the press. But Veeck and his team must overcome racism and both overt and furtive attempts by the Commissioner to force the A's to fail.
There is an obvious similarity between The End of Baseball and the earlier novel, New York Yanquis, by Bill Granger. In each case, an owner sets out to create a "dream team" to shake up the Game. And there are similar reactions by fans and rivals, alike. But while Yanquis is light and humorous, The End of Baseball is a more serious and realistic portrayal of both the game and players facing bias.
The novel takes place in 1944 when most of America was still, for the most part, segregated. Despite fighting a war on two fronts, the military still kept the races apart; many hotels and restaurants - even those in the seemingly more-open North restricted access to Blacks; and, of course, baseball was still a white-man's game. It is with this backdrop that Schilling sets out to "re-write" history.
For the most part, Mr. Schilling does a credible job of establishing the atmosphere of bigotry. There are those things that you expect - the antipathy by white players and fans of other teams, as well as from the Commissioner. But where Schilling fails is with the third party on the diamond: the umpires. While the black players put up with beanballs, being spiked, even intentionally walked to keep from breaking records set by whites, nowhere are the umpires illustrated as having any prejudice. I would imagine that in reality, umpires in that society would have openly called balls strikes or vice versa, as well as call close plays outs, or home runs foul if they strayed too close to the pole. Umpires in Schilling's story are actually more benign, and even invisible, factors.
Schilling's overriding premise is that if Veeck's team was successful, all racism would melt away. And that a team stocked with all-star talent would win over all types of fans - even those in rival stadiums. I'm not so sure this would be the case. You are left wondering: would Philadelphia fans really pack the stands if the team was racing for a pennant, albeit one during a year where each of the teams had had their best talent stripped away by the war effort?
The story also includes a plot line where J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI determine to prove that the black players are actually associated with the communist party, but this story is never fully developed and eventually fades away to be more or less a non-issue, as if Schilling somehow forgot about it.
These shortcomings aside, the book is still entertaining. The setting is well-established and Schilling goes to great length to describe train rides as well as the sights, sounds, and smells of those old ball parks. He also does a very credible job of creating believable characters - albeit based on real people; he's done his homework in getting the characters of, not only Bill Veeck, but Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, and Campanella, to act and "sound" believable. You end up rooting for them to succeed and hoping that the great experiment will somehow change baseball, and American society.
Baseball fiction typically involves the protagonist actually playing the game or doing something to advance his, or her, team on the field. In Sut McCaslin, A Baseball Romance (Writers Club Press, 2000), author Steve Spoerl's focus is not so much on the action on the field as on what goes on in the dugout, or in a bar after a game. The title character is a career pinch hitter and occasional late inning spot player. Sut McCaslin rides the pine for the 1950s Washington Senators. Sitting in on a post-game poker game, or at a bar stool, or on the bench between innings, McCaslin and his teammates' attention is primarily focused on the latest happenings of the McCarthy Hearings on Un-American Activities.
Second baseman Seth Macy holds court during poker games or late night bar hops. Macy is an admirer of Wisconsin senator Joe McCarthy - enough so, that he gets the team invited to a party in McCarthy's honor while the team is in St. Louis. It is in St. Louis that McCaslin's life takes a dramatic swing when he enters into an affair with an African-American woman.
Sut's career mirrors those of a great many baseball players - both past and present. Once star players on their respective high school or college teams, they sign with major league clubs only to languish in obscurity. It is only the rare few that make it to the majors, let alone become star players. In Sut's case, his regular playing days are long over and he is only playing out his last season, or two, hoping for the rare opportunity to still prove his worth.
With the backdrop of the hearings before the McCarthy Hearings providing an almost surreal atmostphere - one that produces a level of anticipation that something related to the team, or one its players, will suddently be revealed - the Senators wallow at the bottom of the standings and an aging Detroit pitcher is trying to eke out just enough wins to surpass Cy Young's record for career wins.
A relatively short novel, it is a rather melancholy and dark (perhaps due to scenes set in smoky bars or shaded dugouts), but it's also rather humorous and light at times. The daily grind of a team habitually in last place and hoping that perhaps they will string together a few wins, to make things interesting, is portrayed admirably by Spoerl.
Sut McCaslin is an interesting book and hard to put down. Reading it is like sitting in the stands during the heat during a Washington, DC or St. Louis summer: too hot to really stay and watch the game on the field, but strangely too hot to move somewhere cooler. In the end, despite the haze and humidity, all of a sudden the game is over, and you're suddenly ready to head home; later you find you actually miss being in the stands. That's Sut McCaslin: one of those books you'd gladly go back and re-read a few more times just to try and figure out what really happened.
