Notes from the Shadows of Cooperstown
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NOTES FROM THE SHADOWS OF COOPERSTOWN
Observations from Outside the Lines
By Two Finger Carney (carneya6@borg.com)
#293 MAY 18, 2003
IS IT OCTOBER YET?
That question popped to mind when my Pirates sunk to nine or ten games under .500 (I stopped looking) ... they are bobbing back to the surface now, and I have to keep reminding myself that it's early. You can tell that, because the Cubs and Red Sox are on top (or nearly), and their fans surely wish it was October.
But it's only May, not even the one-third mark yet. A month to go till the NY-Penn season opens. The Blue Sox are still a memory, but this summer they will have a replacement, at least from June 5 thru July 19: the Mohawk Valley Cobras will play their home games in their 42-game season at Murnane Field, as the NY Collegiate Baseball League debuts. Murnane will also host, for a second straight summer, the American Legion state tournament.
Anyway, this issue has been delayed by a couple of things. With the appearance (after being lost for three months) of my yard, gardening (of all things) has been competing for my time. I have also been busily revising my book, chapter by chapter. I really don't want to call it a wrap, until I have a chance to look at the 1924 trial transcripts.
And then, MLB's official historian, Jerome Holtzman, had a stroke, and I held off on the piece on him that appears later in this issue. I'm pleased to report that he is resting at home and doing fine. I wonder if MLB has a version of Article 25, that means someone like the President of SABR can be sworn in as acting Official Historian, till Jerome is ready to serve again.
Finally, there is that permanent nuisance of the full-time job which pays the bills. But occasionally, my office provides material for Notes. Like the Saturday softball game we recently played, with assorted spouses and friends included. I had not been on a ballfield in many years, and my glove has gone un-oiled for too long -- it was stiff. I was keenly aware that I was catching balls and swinging bats for probably a quarter of a century before most of my coworkers were born (I just turned 57).
But we had fun, and when the final score is 21-20, no one cares who won. I was enjoying playing SS & 3B, until I developed a nasty charleyhorse (out of nowhere), so I finished the game at first base. I did OK at the plate, we all did, and I think we are ready to challenge another department in the agency. My comment to Reyanin, who singled past me late in the game: "Fifty years ago, I'd have had that one." The legs do go first after all.
MAILBOX TRIPLEHEADER
Here are three items that turned up recently in my e-mailbox. The first is an excerpt from the monthly newsletter of Dorothy Mills Seymour; the second, a press release announcing a Buck Weaver protest at the coming All Star Game in Chicago; and the third, a notice about this year's inductees into the Shrine of the Eternals.
Petroskey and the Hall of Fame
by Dorothy Seymour Mills in her newsletter, Vol 2, #5, May 2003
When Dale Petroskey cancelled the Hall of Fame's showing of "Bull Durham" because two actors who had opposed the war in Iraq were to appear, many fans protested. Petroskey finally recognized that he had made a mistake in asserting that these two actors were unpatriotic and that they might be endangering our soldiers.
Ethan Casey, editor of the on-line magazine Blue Ear (www.BlueEar.com), asked me to prepare a short piece for the magazine about baseball's historic connection with patriotism. I'll reprint it for you here:
I think the real beginning of baseball's effort to link itself with patriotism was an event in the spring of 1889, when Albert Spalding's Chicago Club returned from a world tour promoting what he called "the American National Game." The event took place at Delmonico's restaurant in New York City, where celebrities had gathered to praise the returned ball players. At this event Abraham G. Mills (no relation of mine!), appropriately known in some quarters as Awful Gall Mills, declared that baseball was American in origin. Cheers greeted this claim. From then on, few would venture to point out that baseball actually came from England.
During World War One, major-league baseball's patriotic activities in selling war bonds and having players march around the park like soldiers, drilling with their bats, were part of the owners' push to keep baseball going despite the government imposition of the draft. Patriotism, or the appearance of it, was good for business.
Patriotism, or the appearance of it, has always been good for business, including the baseball business. Petroskey represents baseball to many, or believes he does, and evidently he feels that, as a representative of an institution close to the hearts of many Americans, he must also appear to be patriotic. To him, patriotism demands agreement with the president's decisions. But being patriotic doesn't require compromising one's personal opinions about presidential decisions. It stands on its own, well outside the consideration of today's presidential move or tomorrow's.
At least Petroskey now grasps that he made the wrong choice, that his reason for canceling the appearance of two film stars at a showing of "Bull Durham" was misguided. Tim Robbins has since revealed that he had no intention of mentioning the war at Cooperstown anyway. Surely both stars realized that such a mention would have been entirely inappropriate at this occasion.
Moreover, Petroskey's assumption that any disagreement with Bush's decision puts our troops in danger sounds far-fetched. I think it's more likely that he was personally embarrassed to discover that he had invited to such a public baseball occasion two prominent people who had publicly disagreed with the President of the United States. Just their appearance at this event would serve to remind the audience that not everyone approved of the President's actions.
I'm sure that the heavy criticism of Petroskey's decision to cancel the event has taught him that in this country we can disagree on political decisions without stooping to censorship.
* * * * *
BUCK WEAVER PROTEST AT THE ALL STAR GAME in CHICAGO, JULY 15, 2003
For more information, contact David J. Fletcher, MD MPH FACOEM, 217-356-6150, dfletcher@safeworksillinois.com
George "Buck" Weaver dropped dead on the streets of Chicago from a broken heart; the game he loved---baseball---would not let him back in. He was one of the Eight Men Out -- a "Black Sox" ... accused of throwing the 1919 World Series and banished forever.
Reinstatement to baseball became his obsession. His entire life was dedicated to restoring his name. He wanted to suit up for one more season, for one more game, for one more time at bat.
The truth lay in the 1919 World Series box score: 11-34 @ the plate, for a .324 batting average. No errors in the field. He wasn't crooked. He just refused to squeal on his teammates. He wasn't even sure if the fix was on or off.
A protest to reinstate Buck Weaver back into Major League Baseball will be held at The All-Star Game on 7/15/03 at US Cellular Field, next to site of 1919 World Series (Comiskey Park I). The protest will be held at the site of third base in the parking lot across from old Comiskey Park where the White Sox played from 1910-1990 and the site of the first All-Star game in 1933.
This protest will bring attention to Major League Baseball (MLB) to right a historical wrong that Buck needs to be reinstated into baseball though he has been dead since 1956.
Buck Weaver played for the Chicago White Sox from 1912-1920. He played third base and shortstop. He was one of Chicago's greatest and most beloved ballplayers. He lived and died in Chicago. He was the only "Black Sox" to remain in Chicago after his banishment. He was only 29-years-old when he was banned from the game he loved. He would have certainly become a member of the Hall-of-Fame if Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis had not banned him for life and beyond in 1921.
The protest will feature Buck's two living relatives, Patricia Anderson and Marjorie Follett. It will be an educational effort to educate modern day baseball fans about one of the most colorful-and tragic figures-in baseball who deserves to have his honor and reputation restored.
Marjorie Follett, Buck's niece, has for 30 years has had an unquenchable zest has regarding clearing her uncle's name. The historical record--argues that Weaver was punished unjustly. And she vows to obtain justice for the uncle she loved.
She has been championing for more than 30 years, that of her uncle George "Buck" Weaver. "For heaven's sake, Buck is an innocent man," said Follett, 89. "And I just want to clear his name." Follett, who lives in Pontiac, has been making her case for decades. Newspaper writers, authors, historians and baseball commissioners have all heard her pleas on behalf of her uncle.
Another niece of Buck's, Patricia (Scanlon) Anderson, is flying in from Branson, MO to attend the protest. Pat knows better than anyone the pain Buck suffered for being banished from baseball and spending the rest of his life trying to clear his name. Pat, who is now 77, lived with Buck as a child on the South Side of Chicago from 1931-1947 when Buck Weaver became her surrogate father when her own father died.
In addition to being the niece of Buck Weaver, Patricia and Marg are also the nieces of Jim Scott, White Sox pitcher, who like Buck, was a member of Chicago's last World Series winner in 1917.
The protest is organized by Dr. David J. Fletcher, a physician from Decatur, IL, who got married at the site of Comiskey Park old home plate in 1998. Dr. Fletcher is writing a screenplay about Buck Weaver's lifelong quest to clear his name and has conducted exhaustive research that clearly establishes his innocence in the Black Sox scandal. Dr. Fletcher is bringing Buck's nieces back to Chicago as his guests at the All-Star game to get an opportunity to confront Commission Bud Selig, who could with a stroke of his pen restore Buck to rolls of major league baseball.
"I believe that restoring a man's name and reputation, even if he has died, is a significant and worthy act, consistent with the high standards and integrity of our national pastime. Bringing back Buck Weaver to organized baseball is consistent with the decisions by MLB to readjust historical records, such as removing the asterisk from Roger Maris' home run record," said Dr. Fletcher, a 1980 graduate of Chicago's Rush Medical College.
With the possibility of Pete Rose's reinstatement back into baseball, Buck Weaver's living relatives sense an opportunity for Major League Baseball to provide amnesty for an innocent man.
"Buck was banned from baseball for life. But he's no longer here--he served his sentence. And he served it as an innocent man," says his passionate niece, who hopes the Buck Weaver protest brings justice.
* * * * *
Just a brief note to let you know that the Board of Directors of the Baseball Reliquary convened last night for the official tabulation of votes for the 2003 election of the Shrine of the Eternals. In an extremely close election, the following three candidates received the largest number of votes and are elected to the Shrine of the Eternals:
Marvin Miller
Jim Abbott
Ila Borders
The runners-up in the voting were Roberto Clemente, Jackie Robinson, Dick Allen, Yogi Berra, and William "Dummy" Hoy.
The three electees will be contacted next week and arrangements made for their induction on July 20 in Pasadena, California.
In the next few weeks, you will receive further details on this summer's induction ceremony, including complete voting percentages for the 2003 election.
Best wishes,
Terry Cannon
The Baseball Reliquary
YOU CAN'T LOOK IT UP -- YET
While I am still working on my book on the Cover-Up of the Fix of 1919 (and related issues, from Buck to Shoeless), I pick up on things. Someone calls my attention to an item on the SABR-L that mentions a Milwaukee law firm that has documents from the 1924 trial, and suddenly I'm e-mailing reporters and lawyers. (The firm is not the one I've contacted before about the 1924 transcripts -- this is the one that Comiskey hired -- its lawyer George Hudnall was the fellow who produced the missing grand jury testimony from his briefcase, four years after it vanished -- but could not figure out just how it got into his briefcase. Where was videotape when we really needed it?)
Or, someone calls my attention to a web site, where there is a post recalling statements by Jerome Holtzman, dean of Chicago baseball writers and MLB's official historian, which suggest that the 1924 transcripts are "incriminating" and leave no doubt about the guilt of the "eight men out."
For newcomers: several years after the "Black Sox trial," and after Judge Landis' banning of the seven indicted players and a couple more for good measure, Ray Cannon helped Joe Jackson and two other Sox alumni sue their former employer for back pay. After all, in the eyes of the law they had committed no crime, yet they were fired. The trial took place in Milwaukee in 1924, because the White Sox were incorporated there. The players had a lawyer who was on their side (unlike 1920-21). This trial produced a number of fascinating testimonies, including several which (according to Donald Gropman in Say It Ain't So, Joe!, the revised editions) gave credence to Joe Jackson's grand jury claims that he played the 1919 Series to win -- every inning, every game.
A little sleuthing revealed that Holtzman made the comments at a SABR National convention, in summer 2001, in Milwaukee. He was speaking to a meeting of Lyle Spatz' Records Committee. (And that was fitting, as he had just approved, I believe, the change in Hack Wilson's all-time RBI mark, upping it to 191 from the 190 it had been since 1930.) One thing led to another, and suddenly I received, on April 21, in response to my letter of the 16th, a phone call from Mr Holtzman.
It turns out that Jerome Holtzman not only has seen the 1924 transcripts, but he has a copy. When I asked how he got it, he could not recall. Either he genuinely forgot, or took a cue from George Hudnall. I politely suggested that the National Baseball Library would be a great place for its safekeeping (and access to researchers), but he said he was taking good care of it -- his transcripts are bound.
I then politely mentioned to Mr Holtzman that as far as I knew, apart from the law firm where Ray Cannon's descendants still practice and keep guard over the transcripts, only Donald Gropman and now himself (Holtzman) had copies. Then I asked how Mr Gropman, reading the same transcripts, could find them very supportive of Jackson's case, while he (Holtzman) found them "incriminating."
He replied that while he has not read Gropman's (later revised) book, he suspected that Gropman had been selective -- picking out only those parts of the transcripts that supported his ideas about Jackson's innocence. When I politely suggested that it would be great if researchers like myself could see the transcripts to corroborate what he (and Gropman) wrote, he said there was no need for corroboration. Yes, he said that. I asked if he understood my point -- you know, how footnotes can be very helpful in giving books credibility ...? It was a bit exasperating, and I finally said with great humor, realizing to whom I was talking, "Hey, you're the official historian! You've got to see the value of the transcripts being accessible!" He then offered to let me come to Chicago and read them. Which was fine. And maybe I will. If the National Baseball Library strikes out in its attempts to get a copy, that is.
Soon after I hung up, it dawned on me that I had neglected to ask him where he had written about 1919, using the transcripts. He said in his SABR talk that he had a book coming out. I tried calling him back, but the SABR Directory had (as it turns out) the wrong area code. So I wrote him again.
And, I went looking for recent Holtzman books. There are two. In The Jerome Holtzman Baseball Reader (Triumph, 2003), there is a reprint from a column he wrote for his Sunday column in the Chicago Tribune, of June 11, 1989. "Shoeless Was Hardly Blameless" is the title, and Mr Holtzman was commenting on the failed campaign of Ted Williams to clear Jackson's way to the Hall of Fame. In the column, Holtzman does exactly what he accused Gropman of doing: he cites only those parts of Jackson's grand jury testimony which are incriminating. In fact, he stops precisely where things in that testimony get interesting, where Jackson mentions his attempts to inform his club, and then his statements that he played every game to win. And, carrying on the cover-up that started right after Game One in 1919, Holtzman calls the testimony "a confession" and that's that.
The full Joe Jackson grand jury Q & A is readily available these days, in several books (Frommer's, Gropman's) and at a number of web sites. If someone slipped Holtzman a defective copy back in 1989, he's had ample time to locate and read the rest. And he should, because those who believe Jackson guilty need to explain Jackson's saying "No, sir" when asked "Did you do anything to throw those games," and "Not a one" to the follow-up question, "Any game in the series?" (Those who believe Jackson not guilty also have some explaining to do, of course. But it just is not fair to pretend it's an easy call.)
But there is no mention in the Reader of the 1924 transcripts. That mention, it turns out, is in Baseball, Chicago Style (Bonus Books, 2001), co-authored by George Vass. Chapter One, "Black and Bleak Sox," is just an awful piece of history-writing -- I cannot put it any other way and be honest. Here are some of the errors I spotted. You can look it up.
* He writes that Gropman "ignores much of the evidence that clearly demonstrates [Jackson] participated in the swindle." How does he know this, if he has not read Gropman's book? In fact, Gropman deals with the hard questions, such as why Jackson took the money, and offers explanations. (Pg 2)
* He has the 9th Man Out, the St Louis Browns 2B and pal of Swede Risberg, as Joe Gideon -- it's Gedeon. (Pg 3)
* Holtzman writes, "When the confessions were 'lost,' the Cook County Grand Jury dismissed the charges and the players were acquitted." (Pg 4) That's right, according to Holtzman, there was no 1921 trial (which found the players innocent of the conspiracy-to-defraud charges). You might think that is a typo, but I had heard last Fall from Mike Nola that Holtzman had said this on a national radio program, with Mike challenging him at the time, and pointing him to Asinof's book.
* He cites the Fullerton "Say it ain't so, Joe?" story as if it is generally accepted as factual, when it is regarded as apocryphal by many who have written on the subject. (And if he has the 1924 transcripts handy, he could look up Fullerton, who -- according to a footnote in Gropman's book citing the work of Louis Hegeman -- testified that he could think of no instance during the 1919 Series wherein Joe Jackson had done anything to fix the Series. Then he'd have to explain that under-oath statement. Comiskey testified to that, too, in 1924 -- unless Hegeman is inventing things. Holtzman could look it up.)
* For the next seven pages (5-11), Holtzman reprints the section of Jackson's grand jury testimony, again stopping short of the passages that are troublesome for his beliefs.
* He reports how the returning Sox all got nice raises for 1920, "an aggregate 101 percent pay hike." But he says that the show of generosity happened "after the scandal was exposed" (Pg 12), when in fact, that would not occur for another seven months.
And his 101% might be a bit high, as he has utilityman McMullin getting a raise from $2,750 to $7,000 (instead of $3,600 cited in Harry Grabiner's diary.)
* He repeats the argument that Jackson was "inept in the clutch" in the first five games, and batted .462 the last three games (Pg 13), without noting that this particular logic would make fixers of Eddie Collins and Edd Roush, too.
* He has Jackson making an "admission of guilt" to wire service reporters on September 19, 1920 (Pg 14). This is a typo -- Jackson was quoted on September 29, but there is reason to doubt that the words are his. The reporters from the AP and UPI wrote statements attributed to Jackson, most likely guessing at what he said before the grand jury. None of the statements can be found in his testimony.
* Holtzman has Jackson suing in 1924 for back pay for the 1922 and 23 seasons -- it was 1921-22. He cites the Milwaukee Journal describing the "shock of the people in the courtroom and elsewhere, [when] lawyers for Comiskey produced Jackson's signed Grand Jury confession [it was a statement, later characterized by some as a confession] in which Jackson admitted his role in the scheme to throw the World Series (Pg 15)" [he admitted taking money, but made contradictory statements about his performance.] What Holtzman does not say, is that the shock was not about Jackson's words, but about the fact that this document appeared, out of thin air -- after going very conspicuously missing before the 1921 trial. Most sources agree that Comiskey and Rothstein teamed up on that disappearing act.
* Holtzman has Hugh Fullerton working for the Tribune, instead of the Herald & Examiner (Pg 16), and writes that Hugh predicted after the Series "with uncanny accuracy, that seven of the White Sox players would not be back with the club the next season." Huh? That was not uncannily accurate, it was plain wrong -- not Hugh's fault, because he had put his faith in Comiskey. Bad choice. But the fact is that only Gandil did not return. He has Fullerton's most famous charges appearing in the NY Evening Mail, while they appeared in the NY Evening World (Pg 17).
To be fair, Holtzman has some very good material in this chapter, too -- a chapter that he told me (with some pride in his voice) that he (and not co-author George Vass) wrote. Holtzman comes down hard on Comiskey and his lawyer Austrian, harder than most writers. For the latter, he relies on Tennessee lawyer James Kirby, who article on the Fix appeared in the ABA Journal, Feb 1, 1988 up. It's worth looking it up, if the legal aspects of the "Black Sox Scandal" interest you.
But on the whole, this is bleak and black journalism, which begs for a fact-checker. If there is conclusively "incriminating" material in the 1924 transcripts, Holtzman has failed to reveal it in this source -- and he told me he has used the transcripts nowhere else.
Not all of the errors listed above are major, and a few are just typos. But the rate, nearly one a page, is significant, for someone who holds the position of MLB's Official Historian. And the tone is so plainly slanted that Holtzman simply should let someone else handle the Joe Jackson issue, should Bud Selig send it his way.
I have enjoyed reading Jerome Holtzman's books over the years. He seems like a sincere fellow on the phone. But he has a blind spot regarding "the Black Sox" -- maybe being from Chicago, he is simply too close to see clearly.
THE FRANK WILLS OF 1920?
Does the event known soon after the Big Fix as "the Black Sox Scandal" have its equivalent of Frank Mills, the security guard whose alertness while making his rounds at the Watergate, led to the arrest of five burglars, and the eventual undoing of a president? A case can be made for the first whistleblower, Hugh Fullerton; for all those who convinced Bill Veeck, Sr, to call for an investigation of the suspicious August 31 Cubs-Phils game; for Judge MacDonald, who convened the grand jury; for Jimmy Crusinberry, whose letter (under Fred Loomis' name) nudged the grand jury to look at the 1919 Series; or for reporter James Isaminger, whose interview with Billy Maharg apparently was the catalyst that caused Eddie Cicotte to confess.
But perhaps the most obscure contribution to the unravelling of the cover-up, came from someone that the books on the subject to date do not mention at all. And that would be St Louis lawman Elias Hoagland.
In the story of "The Scandalous Black Sox" that Harold Rosenthal wrote for Sport in October 1959, Hoagland is given credit for discovering, quite by accident, the evidence that was "the start of the whole thing."
Just as with Frank Wills at Watergate, this story begins with detective-sergeant Elias Hoagland making a routine check. He and his partner Jim Vasey
noticed a couple of flashy characters in the Hotel Jefferson [in St Louis], a hotel which normally didn't attract that type of clientele. "They were sport-jacket fellows and they were moving around a lot on the elevators and in the dining room," Hoagland said. "we thought we'd keep an eye on them. After about a week, we spotted them coming out of a smoke shop that had often been raided as a bookmaking joint.
Hoagland and Vasey found out that the two strangers were meeting with "characters the police had been arresting regularly as 'big name' gamblers. The trail got pretty hot and we decided to move in." The officers followed their suspects to their hotel room, flashed their I.D., and were let in. "It turned out they were pretty well-known gamblers. One of them owned a place in Long Island City, N.Y., and the other was a racetrack man."
The suspects balked when Hoagland decided to take them in, and they demanded to see a warrant. "We told them we didn't need any on a charge like this." What the charge was, Rosenthal does not say. While the suspects were detained at the station, Hoagland returned to the Jefferson to search their room.
"There were a lot of telegrams from big gamblers, and one I'll never forget. It read, 'Beware of Dickie Kerr. Poison.' The telegrams named names," said Hoagland. He turned them over to J. G. Taylor Spink, of St Louis-based The Sporting News, and Spink forwarded the evidence to American League president Ban Johnson, "who, up to that time, had been running into a stone wall with his investigations."
Just when the Hoagland evidence was received by Ban Johnson is not clear from Rosenthal's article, and since the records from the 1920 grand jury hearings and the material used in the 1921 trial are not available, it is uncertain that it was ever used -- or deemed admissable. Nor is it clear that Johnson ever "ran into a stone wall" in his investigations of the Fix.
"Beware of Dickie Kerr. Poison" sounds like a message that would have been sent during the Series to warn gamblers that Games Three and Six, the two that Kerr won, were not fixed, and to bet on the Reds in those contests would indeed be "Poison." A number of gamblers claimed later that they lost small fortunes betting on Game Three; these men apparently were not the recipients of that telegram, or they misunderstood its warning.
So Elias Hoagland -- and his partner Jim Vasey -- remain rumors, not celebrities. Were they figments of a writer's imagination? Or were they uncredited heroes who deserve recognition for their small, and perhaps illegal role in "the start of the whole thing"? Most likely we shall never know.
RESEARCH NEEDS
The same Dr David Fletcher who is staging the Buck Weaver protest mentioned above, has become an active ally in my search to nail down more about the Fix, Cover-Up & Uncovering (I'll keep going till I have a contract and a deadline for a final manuscript.) Recently, he visited the archives of The Sporting News in St Louis, and found more on Elias Hoagland (above). He also found this:
On 2/16/69, the Chicago Tribune published a letter to the editor from G. R. McLaughlin from Chicago, stating that Buck [Weaver] got $3,000 put under his pillow and took the money to manager to Kid Gleason. I have never heard this story from any other source. If this was true it would mean that he did tell his employer about the fix.
I haven't seen this anywhere before, either. If anyone out there in cyberspace has any info on G. R. McLaughlin -- or if you want to admit that you wrote the letter -- please contact me.
Which reminds me, David also found a review of Eight Men Out from 1963, written by a Chicagoan William Leonard, who claimed he was the urchin who uttered "Say it ain't so, Joe!" Right. Well, it was in the Chicago Tribune.
Finally, David and I are looking for any information on film producer Clyde Elliot. Clyde shows up in the "Harry's Diary" account in The Hustler's Handbook, as a link between the White Sox investigation of the Fix, and E. St Louis gambler Harry Redmon. Apparently, Elliot testified at the 1920 grand jury hearing, confirming that the Sox had early knowledge of the Fix -- just how early, I'm not sure.
A BOOK REVIEW BY JEFFREY KUTLER, BROOKLYN, NY
In case this hasn't been on your radar screen -- -- I want to recommend The Last Commissioner, the memoir by Fay Vincent (Simon & Schuster, 2002). First, the book exudes a love of the game. (It's subtitled "A Baseball Valentine.") Fay Vincent had an all-American middle class upbringing, eventually went to Yale Law School in his native Connecticut and became a successful business executive, all the while appreciating baseball as a pure fan.
Second, it is an important document, for Vincent brought that fan's perspective into the serious business of serving as Bart Giamatti's deputy during the tumultuous Pete Rose affair in 1989, and then, after Giamatti's death, into the three years he served as the last nonowner commissioner. Let me point out that I am an admirer of Vincent, a man of great decency and dignity who got shafted by owners who didn't want to hear his independent voice. He continues to give much to the pastime -- in fact, he is still a commissioner of sorts, president of a summer league for collegiate players in New England (www.necbl.com).
I have corresponded with him a bit; it's easy to feel that bond that happens between those who share a true appreciation for the game. Vincent's book has grated on some critics for being self-indulgent and self-serving. I'd say it's in the classic tradition of the "apologia," an explanation of who he is and why he did what he did. Necessarily, it's a critique of the MLB governance structure now in place.
Given all that has happened since Vincent got the boot, most notably the strike of 1994, hasn't he earned a right to do some opining and second-guessing? If the players had gone out on strike again in 2001, Vincent's book probably would have been more celebrated for its prescience and its bias toward more cooperative labor relations. The settlement restored some better feelings in the land, and no doubt many readers would prefer not to revisit the former unpleasantness. Agree with him or not, Vincent's many memories and vignettes alone are worth the price of admission. (You pay much more than the hardcover price of $26 for a box seat at the Stadium.)
He reveals much about Giamatti and the friendship between the two of them. He devotes several pages to Bobby Doerr, Dom DiMaggio, Johnny Pesky and Ted Williams — a perfect introduction, I'd guess, for the David Halberstam book that just came out on the enduring friendship among those four. He observed Williams and DiMaggio up close in their later years and pretty much has them sized up.
Which brings me to the points he makes about Pete Rose, Joe Jackson, gambling and banning. I like what Vincent says because I pretty much agree with him. And I hereby throw it into your mix. First, Vincent notes that despite the fact that Rose is statistically a first-ballot Hall of Famer, "neither Bart [Giamatti] nor I felt Rose deserves to be enshrined in Cooperstown . . . . Bart and I believed there should be a significant character component for entry into the Hall of Fame, and Rose failed miserably in that category." But don't blame "us" for keeping Rose out of Cooperstown, says Vincent. As an HOF board member, Vincent recused himself from the vote that made players on the MLB "permanently ineligible" list also ineligible for enshrinement in Cooperstown -- the policy that prevented Ted Williams and the rest of the Veterans Committee from voting Joe Jackson in, and that kept Rose's name off the main writers' ballot. "This is not an issue I can vote on," Vincent told then HOF president Ed Stack. "I don't want to be part of the vote because I don't want it to look like I'm rigging the system against Rose."
This is from pages 128-129: "In my personal view, a public debate about what role character should play in electing a player to the Hall of Fame would be a healthy thing. Based on statistics, Joe Jackson deserves a Cooperstown plaque even more than Rose; he was a far better hitter. It is my view Jackson should not be in the Hall of Fame, either. He took money from gamblers to fix a World Series." Vincent acknowledges that Jackson "was a simple man who may not have understood what he was agreeing to do. The fact is, he endangered the game and his responsibility was to reveal the gamblers' plot to the authorities. Rose, to me, demonstrates a character with even deeper flaws because of his arrogance and lack of regret . . . . Being placed on the permanently ineligible list is the ultimate deterrent, designed to keep players honest and away from gamblers and gambling. It's critical and it's harsh, as it needs to be. Who can argue with its almost total effectiveness?"
That Vincent is a man of the law came out earlier in the book, in a discussion of umpires and, in particular, the potential Hall-of-Famer Doug Harvey. Vincent had great respect for, and relations with, umpires -- something that is lacking today in MLB's adversary relationship with the umpires' union, which has consequences on the field, including a noticeable decline in the quality of umpiring. "You have to give respect to get respect," says Vincent. "You learn that by the third grade. If more people understood the critical role of the umpire in baseball and truly respected it, the great game would be improved. A civilization without laws and people to enforce those laws cannot be civil. Laws make us civil. Without rules and skillful umpires, baseball would be chaos."
* * * * *
Thanx, Jeff. Book reviews always welcome here. In response to Fay Vincent's observations about Joe Jackson, I would only say that he has been punished enough, that the evidence that he did anything to throw games is insufficient to keep him out of the Hall, and that replacing Comiskey's plaque with Jackson's seems like a fair deal to me. But I could be wrong.