Recommended summer reading:
“DiMaggio, The Last American Knight,” by Joseph Durso (Little, Brown $22.95), ranks with Robert Creamer’s Babe Ruth and Charles Alexander’s Ty Cobb on the top shelf of the baseball biographies. I agree, enthusiastically, with the Library Journal’s assessment: “Of the many books on DiMaggio, this is the best.”
A senior scribe who adds grace and elegance to the otherwise mostly dreary New York Times sports section, Durso was originally ticketed to do the long-awaited authorized DiMaggio autobiography. He has known the great DiMaggio for more than three decades. But DiMaggio deferred at the 11th hour and rejected a publisher’s $2 million offer.
Instead of packing his notes, Durso plunged ahead. More than likely, the final work is an improvement on the as-told-to genre. Durso, free from an “official” version, reveals the many facets of the great DiMaggio, on and off the field. It is tightly written and without the usual fluff found in the previous DiMaggio attempts.
In his introduction, Durso modestly acknowledges:
“Nobody can pinch-hit for Joe DiMaggio. But let’s say that I am here to pinch-run for him, to complete the journey that we once embarked on, to record his story, his career, his life and times–and, for better or worse, to measure his impact on American life in the 20th Century.”
Wisely, Durso doesn’t open with DiMaggio’s arrival at Yankee Stadium, but sets the stage, fixing DiMaggio’s place in the Yankees’ pantheon as the successor to Ruth. Once this is established, he launches into DiMaggio’s upbringing in San Francisco and follows him through his brilliant major-league career.
He tells of DiMaggio’s heroic 56-game hitting streak in 1941, which has been the subject of several previous books. Durso’s chronology of the streak is best of all. It is not merely a recounting but, happily, condensed into one chapter, accompanied by a treasure of fascinating anecdotes including the surprise party in his honor a month after the streak was broken.
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“`Hey, Joe,” teammate Lefty Gomez said, `I’m tired of tagging around with you to all those banquets you’re invited to. Tonight you’re going where I want.”‘
DiMaggio: “Instead of going down to the lobby we got off at the fourth floor into a big suite of rooms. The whole team was gathered there waiting for me. I was speechless.
“A testimonial to one player from all his teammates in midseason doesn’t happen more than once in a lifetime. But they were all there, waiting, and they gave me a beautiful silver Tiffany humidor with a gold figure of me batting on the lid, and the signature of every member of the team engraved inside. They had permission from manager Joe McCarthy and the owners of the club for each of us to drink one glass of champagne. And they lifted their glasses to me and sang, `For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.’ “
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“PSYCHOanalyis,” by Steve Lyons (Sagamore, $19.95), may be the best book written by a former player since Jim Brosnan’s “The Long Season.” Lyons doesn’t have the literary skill of Brosnan and offers his story in small diary-type chapters. It is excellent reading.
A utility infielder, Lyons played with five big-league clubs, including the White Sox. Early on, he was nicknamed Psycho. I never understood why. He always seemed normal to me and this view is reaffirmed in his autobiography.
I enjoyed the book very much, mostly because he has wonderful stories to tell and because of his unpretentious style. The spark of truth is constantly evident and his recollections of playing winter ball in South America are particularly revealing.
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“Bob Broeg, Memories of a Hall of Fame Sportswriter,” By Bob Broeg (Sagamore, $22.95), is a lively account of the life and times of the distinguished St. Louis baseball Boswell whose eyes have seen the glory, and beyond.
What sets Broeg apart is his zest for the game. Approaching his eighth decade, and after 50 years in pursuit of the quarry, his cup still brims over. I have never known a sportswriter with such remarkable recall. For him, sharing his reminiscences is his final act of devotion.
The St. Louis Cardinals and Stan Musial are the centerpiece. But Broeg, never a homer, has a wider stage. The Cubs receive appropriate mention, along with Leo Durocher, when he was managing in New York, and scores of other diamond lions, including Harvey’s Lou Boudreau.
According to Broeg, Boudreau did the “best single game of managing, under pressure” he saw. This was in the 1946 American League playoff when Boudreau, then the player-manager of the Cleveland Indians, led the Tribe to a pennant with a 4-for-4 performance that included two home runs.
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“Ryne Sandberg, Second to Home,” by Barry Rozner (Bonus Books, $22.95), has been criticized because of the absence of material on why the Cubs’ All-Star second baseman opted for an early retirement. In defense of Rozner, he purposely avoided the gossip and instead scores with solid, no-nonsense coverage of Sandberg’s outstanding career.