The Boss and the Yanquis

Once upon a time there was a baseball owner who took hands-on leadership to the extreme. He was known for over-reacting, removing managers at a whim and expressing his ire over perceived player recalicitrance. I'm, of course, referring to George Steinbrenner. The legendary Yankees owner took over the Yankees shortly after the demise of the Reserve Clause. The Boss used millions made in the shipping industry and permanently shaped the future of baseball free-agency. He dedicated his ownership to building the Yankees into a permanent championship team, centered around star players paid exorbitant salaries.

In New York Yanquis (Arcade Publishing: 1995), author Bill Granger gives us Yankee owner George Bremenhaven, a thinly-veiled recreation of the late Yankee owner. Sharing the stage with Bremenhaven, and the book's protagonist, is veteran relief pitcher Ryan Patrick Shawn, turned manager. The premise for Granger's comedic novel is the Yankee owners desire to reduce his payroll by getting rid of all of his high-priced players and replacing them with a roster of Cuban all-stars who will play the game simply because of their love of the game. The only player he retains is Shawn, who happens to speak Spanish, and is desperate for one last go-around before retiring.

The novel is full of jabs at Stienbrenner, from his all-consuming drive for a pennant to his penny-pinching methods. He houses the Cuban players in one of his run-down hotels and feeding them pizza. To keep Shawn in line, Bremenhaven contrives various schemes that has Shawn fending off accusations of infedelity to his girlfriend and fearing that the IRS is going to lock him up for tax fraud. Shawn is initially a gullible hero, but one that can, and will, stand up to Bremenhaven - often in amusing verbal jabs. Shawn finds himself playing cat-and-mouse games with his boss, which in the end tends to put him on an equal footing with the eccentric owner.

Bremenhaven hates to lose, whether it's against other teams, their owners, or even his own players. Shawn just wants to survive one more season and then see where things take him. The Cubans just want to play ball, but find themselves frustrated and depressed at being so far from home and being treated as second-hand citizens. The story is a comedy that makes light of the Stienbrenner-esk character and his antics, but we are also treated to a host of stereotypical characters, from Shawn's Los Angeles-based agent to his girlfriend, and a host of mysterious government agents. And then, there's the cameo appearances by Fidel Castro, himself, with his long-winded, rambling tirades

Actual baseball action is rare in this novel, but done well when it appears. But the story is actually less about baseball than about hopes and dreams, and the compromises that must be made along the way toward happiness. Yes, we are entertained by the Bremenhaven character (who I would not be surprised if Granger didn't model him after the Steinbrenner of "Jerry Seinfeld" fame), but in the end it is the Ryan Shawn and his Cuban players overcoming all types of obstacles thrown in front of them that is the real story.

New York Yanquis is not a morality play. It's a farse about greed in the American Game. An over-simplication of complex issues like baseball ownership, free agency, and U.S. politics. But I'd recommend it as an entertaining fun read; one that brings back memories of the craziness that surrounded the Yankees and The Boss.


Steinbrenner: You know George, it struck me today me that a Communist pipeline into the vast reservoir of Cuban baseball talent could be the greatest thing ever to happen to this organization.
George: Sir?
Steinbrenner: You could be invaluable to this franchise. George,there's a southpaw down there nobody's been able to get a look at; something Rodriguez, I don't really know his name. You get yourself down to Havana right away.
George: Yes, sir. Yes sir, do my best.
Steinbrenner: Good, Merry Christmas George. And bring me back some of those cigars in the cedar boxes, you know the ones with the fancy rings? I love those fancy rings. They kind of distract you while you're smoking. The red and yellow are nice. It looks good against the brown of the cigar. The Maduro, I like the Maduro wrapper. The darker the better, that's what I say. Of course, the Claro's good too. That's more of a pale brown, almost like a milky coffee. (George exits) I find the ring size very confusing. They have it in centimeters which I don't really understand that well...

(Seinfeld, Season 6, Episode 10, December 15, 1994)

Love in the time of Red Sox

I watched Fever Pitch (Farrelly Brothers: 2005) the other night. The film is based on the autobiographical collection of short stories written by Nick Hornby (Gollancz: 1992) with the same title. Actually, the movie is a remake of the 1997 film starring Colin Firth that featured a man obsessed with the Arsenal Foot Ball club, to the point that it effected his romantic relationship.

The Farrelly brothers, converting the storyline to the U.S., cast Jimmy Fallon as a math teacher who falls in love with a financial executive. In the Farrelly's version, the character of Ben Wrightman is a rabid Boston Red Sox fan; he inherited season tickets behind the Sox dugout, holds an annual draft to determine which of his friends will attend games with him, his apartment is a shrine to Red Sox history, and he hasn't missed a game in ten years. The love interest, Lindsey Meeks, played by Drew Barrymore, is a work-aholic and baseball novice. But she's attracted by Ben's youthfulness and humor and decides to overlook his obsession, because she, herself, is obsessed with her work.

The conflict revolves around baseball and its affect on Ben and Lindsey's burgeoning relationship during the course of the 2004 season. The storyline has the relationship flowing along with the ups and downs of the Sox quest for the post-season. In the early months, the relationship rises with the hopes of a new year; Ben takes Lindsey to games and she learns about the game and the undying loyalty of Sox fans. Ben is a hit with Lindsey's friends (and particularly their husbands who envy his season tickets) and gains points with her parents by getting them a tee time at the local country club. As the summer wears on, however, the relationship cools as Ben's obsession increases and Lindsey's job beckons as she tries to gain a partnership in her firm.

As with the Red Sox quest for their first World Series pennant since 1918, Ben and Lindsey's relationship ultimately hinges on overcoming a large obstacle. For the Sox, it's the 0-3 hole they find themselves in the ALCS. For Ben and Lindsey, it is breaking the baseball bond that Ben has held on to since he was a child.

Overall, I think the movie is fun to watch: a good date flick. But, in the end, you have to wonder if the two protagonists actually have a long-term future where it's not clear whether each has compromised enough to make it last. I've never read Hornby's book. I'd be interested in seeing if the original story matches better with English football, or whether the Farrelly brothers managed to best the story with their re-telling.

The 2011 season officially opens this afternoon. I got a jump on the reading season by starting The New York Yanquis, by Bill Granger (Arcade Publishing: 1995).

Man child in the outfield

In The Greatest Slump of All Time (Harper & Row: 1984), David Carkeet presents a small ensemble cast of ten (nine players and their manager); the limited number to present a story about a baseball team. Roaming left field is Buford Ellenbogen, described by the author as "big, blond Buford". He's certainly the largest player on the team (one teammate admits he'd rather be hit by a train than have Ellenbogen run over him). Prior to becoming a professional baseball player his claim to fame was eating six consecutive entrees at his hometown Denny's. But Buford is a gentle giant; according to the team's center fielder, Eddie Johnson, Buford has "that gentle touch."

Buford is not the brightest bulb on the team, but he is full of good humor and "once or twice comes up with [a joke], himself." The team's manager believes that if he told Buford to "turn around backward in the batter's box and hang his ass over the plate, he'd do it." He is the type of person who wants to please; he tends to defer to the will of others, particularly his wife, who decided the two should get married and when, and that they should have children. He is genuinely surprised as things work out as they do, as if he had no preconceived idea as to what might or might not happen. Buford is seemingly pleased with his life. In fact, he is often seen sitting back feeling completely content to be a ballplayer.

Despite his good humor, and seemingly innocent outlook, Buford suffers from parental anxiety. He worries about the type of husband he will be, what kind of father he will become, and over how to protect his children. He decides at one point that his daughters will never be allowed in a baseball stadium where they might (both) be struck by the same line drive. Basketball games are out too (Buford images a seven foot center landing on his child and breaking her pelvis); going to football games could be bad, as well, as winter is full of snow storms and icy roads. (Indoor track? he wonders - no, the roof might cave in). Buford learns by trial and error. He overcomes his parental anxiety by practicing parenthood on a teammate's child (with mixed results), but in the end it is fatherhood that propels him to stardom. During the World Series, he hits a winning grand slam and throws out the potential winning run at the plate in extra innings all the while thinking of how he spent the previous night changing diapers.

In this small cast of characters, Buford Ellenbogen proves to be bigger than his physical build. Buford's character is not the lovable loser who initially appears in the story, but more the big dumb oaf who lumbers out to the plate and laughs at everyone's bad jokes. He's the overgrown kid, the innocent who in the end you discover is more adult than anyone else.

Brooklyn and baseball

1955. Brooklyn. Dodgers. Dem Bums. Robinson. Giants. Yankees. New York. The Golden Age of baseball. The Cold War. Coney Island. Television... Philip Goldberg's This is Next Year (Ballentine: 1992) paints a rich tapestry before which his protagonist, eleven-year old Roger Stone walks. If you've read The Boys of Summer, by Roger Kahn, the character of Roger Stone is a conglomeration of the stereotypical Brooklynite. He lives and dies with his Dodgers; his passion for "dem Bums" never wanes. Roger narrates the 1955 season when the Dodgers made it to the World Series - lead by Snider, Robinson, Hodges and Reese - and finally beat the dreaded Yankees. This is Next Year is not just a baseball story, but a coming-of-age tale. Roger's story leads us through the streets and back alleys of Brooklyn during the mid-50s: the novel is filled with references to stickball games, egg creams and cherry cokes; everyone smoking cigarettes or having a hot dog at Nathan's, and schoolkids with earphones listening to baseball games during class.

Along with the scenery, we are introduced to Roger's family - his two brothers Hubbell and Hank("Round Man") - like Roger (after Rogers Hornsby) - named after stars of the age: Carl Hubbell, and Hank Greenberg. And there are his friends: Klinger and Iggy, as well as a host of other characters Roger goes to school and plays stickball with, and who generally hang out on the street corner arguing the merits of various ballplayers or the virtues of girls who they are acquainted. Apart from Roger's parents, the other adults - equally as engaging as Roger's school-age friends - are neighbors and shopkeepers from the immediate vicinity, but each have their supporting roles in the overall flow of the story.

And, then there's "The Thing": Roger's conception of fate. Named after the monster of the 1951 film, The Thing is Roger's method of reconciling why his beloved Dodgers continue to flail away at success, as well as his own 6th grade trials and tribulations. When something doesn't work out, it is because The Thing reared its fatalistic head.

At times, Goldberg seems to go a bit overboard with his narrative. If Next Year were a painting, it would be crowded with detail of Brooklyn and the events and culture of the mid-20th century. But perhaps this is the point - we are led through a tale, not by that 11 year-old boy, but by his aging memory. A memory that projects like a feature film: fade to black as the story begins and the entire tale is a movie flash-back projected onto the big screen. Instead of a backdrop larger than life (and mostly out of sight to a youngster), we have the scene set by someone who can look back and see his surroundings.

I remember that after I read this book for the first time - shortly after it was released in 1992 - I thought it was a very good story, full of tiny details; not entirely a baseball novel, but a story of a boy growing up in the shadow of bigger things. I would still recommend This is Next Year, but probably throw in a caveat or two about the overwhelming minutiae that accompanies the story. Overall, though, it is an enjoyable read. Goldberg initially promised that Next Year would be the first of a trilogy - presumably to follow along until the Dodgers left for Los Angeles, or so. But no sequels have ever appeared. Goldberg went on to a career in inspirational books. This is Next Year has been his only novel.

Birthday greetings

Robert Coover, author of one of the most acclaimed baseball novels, The Universal Baseball Association, Inc., J. Henry Waugh, Prop. (Random House: 1968), celebrated his 79th birthday, today. Though to many of us, The Universal Baseball Association is one of the pinnacles of baseball literature, Coover is probably more well known (at least in wider circles) for The Public Burning (Viking: 1977), a satirical novel about the Julius and Ethel Rosenberg case. His only other sports-related work was the novella: Whatever Happened to Gloomy Gus of the Chicago Bears (Simon & Schuster: 1987), which profered an alternated history of Richard Nixon - a man obsessed with football and sex. Coover is a professor of Literary Arts and Writer-in-Residence at Brown.

Characters behind the plate

Audry, Barlow Road Grade School Pioneers (Bat 6)
Chuck Arnold, New York Lions (The Last Great Season)
Waxahachie Beckland, Splendid Dominican Tourists (Brittle Innings)
"Blockade" Billy Blakely, New Jersey Titans (Blockade Billy)
Bubba Broadax, Smackover High School (Fielder's Choice)
Joe Louis Brown, Graceville Oilers (Long Gone)
Joe Buck Cartwell, Arkansas Reds (The Dixie Association)
Tim Connell, Lions (Chance)
Chico Hernandez, Veracruz Blues (Veracruz Blues)
Dean Larson, Washington Memorials (The Spring Habit)
Boon Lions, Oxford Fury (The Dixie Association)
Bingo Long, All-Stars (The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings)
Phil Nagle, Boston Blues (Conduct of the Game)
Bruce Pearson, New York Mammoths (The Southpaw)
Hothead Ptah, Rupert Mundys (The Great American Novel)
Petashne, Wichita Wraith (Babe Ruth Caught in a Snowstorm)
"Turkey" Sloan, Highbridge Hellbenders (Brittle Innings)
Earl Smith, Chicago Blades (Conduct of the Game)
Matty Sternweiss, St. Louis Browns (Big League Dreams)
Tootie, Bear Creek Grade School Ridgers (Bat 6)
Hank West, Brooklyn Dodgers (World Series)