Here's to Books and Blizzards
The only thing Jane Leavy didn’t share about Mickey Mantle in her fine new book The Last Boy is where and when he made his deal with the devil; the one whereby he became the best-looking [white] ballplayer in America during the decade spanning the mid 50’s & 60’s, both on and off the field; the one that eventually cost him his dignity and family, plus tax. Or maybe the deal was struck by Mickey’s father deep inside an Oklahoma zinc mine and maybe Mutt didn’t drive a hard enough bargain. Speaking of Mickey’s first coach, there is much more Oedipal fodder in this account of Mantle’s improbable life than just the hackneyed anecdote about the confrontation between father and son in a Kansas City hotel room when a demotion to the minors could have become a demotion to those Oklahoma mines.
I opened the book with a pre-existing fascination about Mantle. His stardom paralleled my boyhood and his agonizing demise at the end of life revealed some things about him that I related to. This is not to make a case for or against him versus any other ballplayer from any era. I am not a Mantle apologist. Nor did the book disillusion me, despite that it’s built around the author’s own disillusioning encounter with her childhood hero when she was assigned to interview him for the Washington Post in 1983. I’m too old for disillusionment. Instead my fascination was deepened. His extraordinary athletic prowess both obscured and excused what an otherwise uncoordinated person he was.
Laid bare are the childhood, career and afterlife of the man whose legacy runs a long, wide gamut from the tape measure home run to organ donation. Mantle is painted here as equal parts humble and boorish; a real, live Zeus who was saved from financial ruin but not himself by a nascent memorabilia craze that followed, not coincidentally, his folklorian playing days. He capitalized on celebrity despite that it confused him. He was always a ballplayer, even after he stopped playing ball, never having learned how to be anything else that could profit him.
Leavy earned commendation for the extraordinary depths of her research into, for instance, the mammoth and legendary home run at Griffith Stadium and a later one that rattled the pigeons’ perches at Yankee Stadium. So diligent and thorough was her excavation of Mantle’s ruins that I’m almost surprised she didn’t find her way to me for an account of how I got him to sign my ticket at a pro-am golf event in Iowa City in 1974. For a sportswriter Leavy is an accomplished archaeologist.
The title of the book is just right. Still, it occurred to me that Mickey Mantle would have fit as comfortably in the ranks of Peter Pan’s Lost Boys as he did in the juvenile sanctuary of the clubhouse. Only in dying did he ever grow up.
The Mick who emerges in Leavy’s portrait is someone who was to be pitied and then perhaps briefly admired, but rarely envied. His soul was as tortured as his once remarkable but finally dilapidated body.
When he was young and still enjoyed it himself I imagine Mantle would have been a choice drinking companion. In lieu of ever having that opportunity I’ll hoist this book, poured neat, as a toast to his tragicomic memory.
BTW, CRUNCH, Lester made a nice bh pick-up and toss to Bryant. Did you catch it?
He's been workin' on the D!
j.urias didn't have a good debut...
2.2ip 5h 4bb 3k...3 r/er...1 wp
81 pitches. yow.
Ach - I really only saw it quickly and thought that's where it it. No matter - he crushed it and the video board people did not have to repair the panels from what I saw!
Totally agree with that re Soler, whereas Bryant seems to get the close call (so far) this year.
Good to see Baez get a couple knocks today - been awhile
that works too...there wasnt a good CSN replay...was going off whatever len or jd (dont remember) said.
I was there. From what I saw it was upper third of the scoreboard
No I have been thinking actually that he seems to lead the Cubs with balls called strikes all year. He really shouldn't be expanding his zone to swing at many of those either because it wouldn't lead to anything good. He's seeing the ball well though so hopefully it'll even out.
So why don't the umps like Soler, or am I just imagining it?
Yeah, but he kills lefties.
wow...instant hardcore rain.
it was massive...hit off the bottom of the LF scoreboard.
Projected at 461 ft, with a 108 mph exit velocity - longest Cub HR this year by 20 ft (I think Arrieta had the longest?)
this team is full of horrible walkup music...rizzo uses 'marky mark and the funky bunch' more than he should...which is any at all.
d.ross uses alphaville 'forever young' because lulz.
lastella was using (still might be) 'oh what a night' by the four seasons.
turrible turrible stuff.
cubs lead 1-5, bottom 4.
Just noticed that Baez's current walk-up song is "Informer" by Snow. Dear God. That's world class bad.