Miko Kings play games of bases

At times, reading Miko Kings (Aunt Lute Books: 2007) is like standing amidst the wind-blown, dried grass that rises out the red dirt, while looking through an old leather-covered picture album. An album populated with sepia-toned pictures of people in cowboy hats, checkered shirts, or calico. LeAnne Howe's novel of baseball and inequity rolls out of the Oklahoma praire like a tumbleweed on a hot wind. The story bounces along, back and forth between past and future. But that's exactly what makes Miko Kings a great story; if it was written conventionally, it would not be nearly so good.

Told primarily from the point of view of Lena Coulter, a reporter who has returned to Oklahoma from assignment in Jordan, the novel primarily tells the story of a team of Choctaw playing in the Oklahoma Indian Territory just prior to statehood. While the core story is about the team and a momentous game to be played against a rival team made up of U.S. cavalrymen, Howe's novel is also about the lives of three people: Hope Little Leader, the team's pitcher, Justina Maurepas, a civil activist, and Ezol Day, the young girl who witnessed the events of that turn-of-the-century game and who brings the story to Lena's pen.

Lena learns about the baseball game and the various characters through Ezol's journal, and through "visits" by Ezol's spirit to her present-day home in Ada. (It wouldn't be a story about Native Americans without a spirit guide). We learn of Hope Little Leader's youth spent in a boarding school for blacks and Indians in Virginia. It is there he met Justina, who was a young teacher. The rebellious duo go their seperate ways. Hope returns to Oklahoma, where he finds direction (baseball) and a cause (the threat of his people losing their land) and a method to fight it - baseball. Justina ends up in New Orleans where she discovers her fight in unjustice in the brothels of that city.

Underlying all unjustice, of course, is wealth, whether it's money gathered from using other people, or the value of land. And into the mix of Miko Kings is racial bias, between blacks and whites and red and whites. Fortunately, for the novel, Howe nests the racial aspect inside differences in social class - between the haves and the have-nots of rural Oklahoma, and the streets of New Orleans. Something stronger would definitely taken away from the story. Instead, we are given a rich tale of societal differences that develop very nicely, with rather sympathetic characters.

The story abounds with subplots - Hope Little Leader's plan to help his people retain their integrity, if not their land; Justina's brushes with violent protests; and Ezol's maturation process through orphanages and step-homes. But the subplots - like the dust that blows around the characters on the Oklahoma prairie - come together at the end in surprise fashion and tie everything together for Lena, who is trying to recover from her own traumas.

The story of the Miko Kings' game with the soldiers has its roots in historical fact. During the winter of 1869, the 7th Cavalry - based at Fort Sill and under the command of General George Armstrong Custer - played baseball against a team of Kansas volunteers comprised of Native Americans. And during the late 1880s, Apache tribesmen, interned at Fort Sill, played baseball while soldiers watched.

While the story is centered around a particular baseball game, baseball is not the focus of the story and there is no need to weigh down the novel with countless scenes of baseball action. There is just enough to liven the story and move it forward. There is, however, plenty of discussion about the players, brief vignettes of different games, and insights into how Native Americans developed a stick and ball game (althought the discription shades more toward lacrosse than baseball).

Howe's novel is enjoyable, as well as educational and eye-opening at times. It is well crafted and a satisfying read.

In remembrance

Best known for his Pulitzer Prize-winning The Killer Angels (David McKay:1974), Michael Shaara also wrote For the Love of the Game (Carroll & Graf:1991), that was published postumously by his son. The story was eventually made into a movie starring Kevin Costner.

For the Love of the Game tells the story of aging pitcher Billy Chapel, who sets out onto the mound for one last time after learning that his team is to be sold and he is unlikely to be retained. In a series of flashbacks told while Chapel is pitching against the Yankees, we learn about Chapel's life and loves and pains. The game - which he loves - turns out to be his greatest, though it changes him and his future life.

Shaara taught literature at Florida State and was the auther of five novels and a number of short stories, primarily science fiction. Shaara had a knack for developing his characters at the emotional and empathetic level. While The Killer Angels was awarded the top prize for fiction, it did not gain widespread commercial success until after the film "Gettysburg" (Ron Maxwell: 1993) was released, five years after the author's death.

Shaara's baseball novel, though never reached the level of success of his story about the battle of Gettysburg. It does, however, match up well with similar heartstring-pullers, such as How This All Started (Pete Fromm) and Prospect (Bill Littlefield). It's too bad we didn't get to find out if Shaara had any other tales of the diamond in him.

Michael Shaara (b. 6/26/1928, d. 5/5/1988)

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.