Notes #451 — Thirty-Eight

                             NOTES FROM THE SHADOWS OF COOPERSTOWN
                                           Observations from Outside the Lines
                                     By Two Finger Carney (carneya6@adelphia.net)
 

#451                                                                                                                           JULY 3, 2008
                                                                THIRTY-EIGHT
 

            SABR 38 , that is, held June 26-29 in Cleveland. Another convention of the Society for American Baseball Research is in the books. This was my seventh, and fifth straight. As a reunion lover, it is hard for me to have anything less than a great time at these gatherings. I think that I’ve reported here in Notes on every one I’ve attended, as well as on other SABR workshops, conferences and regional meetings, and that is what I will do to fill most of this issue.
 

BUT FIRST — FOR BLACK SOX FANS  
 

            When I joined SABR in 1991, I never thought I’d attend a national convention. Then in 1993, it was held in San Diego, and I had an old friend in San Diego, and there I was, commuting to my first convention. Two years later, the event was in Pittsburgh, my hometown, and I commuted again. Combining the SABR conventions with visits to family and friends spared me the cost of hotels, but it also meant that I missed a lot.
 

            By 2002, I was ready to try another convention (I had friends in Boston) but ended up in Hawaii instead, returning with a borrowed book, Blue Ruin , which led to my addiction to the Black Sox. I almost made it to Denver in 2003 — has Rod Nelson ever forgiven me? — but just couldn’t get away. The lure was the chance to get together with the dozens of fellow B-Sox addicts that I had met in my first year on the trail . It didn’t happen, but in the wake of that near-miss, Rod started up the Yahoo group dedicated to the B-Sox, and most of my fellow travelers joined, and that conversation is still ongoing. More on that later.
 

            The site of the 2004 convention, Cincinnati, prompted me to propose a panel on the 1919 Series, and that suggestion was accepted. The first person I asked to be on the panel was Eliot Asinof. He did not say No, not right away. He was aware of the research I’d been doing, we had corresponded and met and he had looked at some of my stuff. I told him Dan Nathan had agreed to be a panelist, and Eliot asked if he could borrow Dan’s book, and I sent it to him. But his final answer was No, even though SABR was ready to pay all his expenses. I was disappointed, but I think I understood — Asinof had simply not kept up, and I think he knew from previous encounters with SABR members that he would be asked yet again about his lack of footnotes and sources in 8MO . So he thanked me for the invitation, and declined.
 

            But the panel went full speed ahead and was well-received. The only problem was that it could have gone another 30 or 60 minutes, there was a long line of folks waiting to ask questions when the session ended abruptly and the room cleared for another presentation.
 

            In 2005, the convention moved to Toronto. I had introduced Bert Collyer and Collyer’s Eye to SABR in Cincy, and in Toronto I gave Bert center stage. Again, I felt rushed. As I did in 2006, when I talked about “Eight Myths Out” in Seattle, and last summer in St Louis, when I presented on everything we have learned about the B-Sox since Burying the Black Sox went to press.
 

            So this time around, in Cleveland, I decided I did not want to rush thru another 20-minutes for 5 minutes of Q & A. Instead, I proposed doing what we almost did five years ago, in Denver — scheduling a wide-open discussion of the B-Sox research done by myself and others in the past year or so. Give us a room and an hour, somewhere in the program. Please.
 

            But then an even better idea came along. THE B-Sox event of the past year was the “discovery” of thousands of pages of B-Sox documents, all from the law firm of Comiskey’s lawyer, a collection that was purchased at auction last December by the Chicago History Museum for $100,000. The documents also will shed new light on the ascent of Judge Landis, baseball’s first Commish. Why not invite the CHM curator to the national SABR convention, to tell attenders what the collection contains?  After all, it is likely that when the documents are at last accessible for research, that SABR members will be the most interested parties. It was not exactly Geraldo opening Al Capone’s safe, but maybe the national media, which covered the auction of the documents last winter, would show up to hear about their contents. The curator was ready to go with a power-point session prepared. I knew some members of the Yahoo group, not (yet) SABR members, were also ready to go to Cleveland, if this treat was on the menu.
 

            That was February. It took until May 27 for a decision to be made about this. That was a week or so too late, the curator who had been available to present in Cleveland, had another commitment. And of course, by then it was also too late to fit a B-Sox session of any kind into the program. That ended my streak of presenting, which is no big deal. It was also too late to submit a proposal for a Poster Presentation on Collyer’s Eye , something I ought to do at some future date, just so more SABR members become aware of what that publication can yield to those who dive into the microfilm now available (I’m told that the Cleveland Public Library has some reels).
 

            Next year, the convention will be July 30 – August 2, in Washington, DC. There is a way to guarantee a slot in the program for a sharing of B-Sox research — and once those Chicago documents are available, there ought to be plenty to share. How?  By creating a SABR Research Committee dedicated to research related to the fixing of the 1919 World Series, the cover-up of that fix, and all related issues, including the people involved, and gambling in baseball. But not steroids or Pete Rose. Every SABR Research Committee has space in every convention to meet. All that is needed is for the SABR Executive Board to give its blessing. I am willing to serve as first chair, or until an election is held. Please let me know if you are interested in being a member, too, and as soon as I have ten or more names, I will set this in motion.
 

            The little Yahoo group started up by Rod Nelson in 2004 now numbers around 130, I think. Not all are SABR members — yet. But if betting was allowed in baseball — I’d wager that some would start coming to SABR conventions, for Committee meetings. And they would find the conventions every bit as addictive as the Black Sox story.
 

 

ONE OTHER PRELIMINARY REMARK  
 

As you travel on through life, Brother,
Let this be your Goal:
Keep your eye upon the doughnut
And not upon the hole.
 

            That’s how I recall the coffee-mug wisdom of the old Mayflower coffee (and doughnut) shop in downtown Pittsburgh. I may have a word or two wrong, but you get the idea. All I want to add here, before getting to the convention stuff, is that I did not spend a lot of time in Cleveland thinking about what might have been. I was far too busy. And the absence of a B-Sox session of any kind was not even my biggest disappointment.
 

            Last Fall, knowing SABR 38 was to be in Cleveland, I decided to see if I could find a theater group in the greater Cleveland area that might be interested in staging my deadball era play, Mornings After , during the convention time. After all, at least some of the 700 attenders would likely want to see it; some saw it performed in 2005 in Toronto as a dramatic reading, by the fabled Cup o’Coffee Company, SABR volunteers directed by Dr Susan Dellinger. And Addie Joss, one of the play’s, the musical’s central characters, represents Cleveland in the Hall of Fame. So why not?  (There was also talk of a film festival on the side, and maybe that gave me the idea.)
 

            An inquiry that I posted on a theater internet bulletin board drew four quick responses!  One, a community theater group in nearby Strongsville, stood out from the others — it looked like Mornings had finally found the director/producer it has needed. However , this is baseball, and it ain’t over till … well, over the winter, the community group had its budget cut, no room for Mornings , not this time around. Nothing much came of the other three offers, either. So Mornings After would not be playing during the convention after all. Wait’ll next year?
 

 

SABR 38  
 

THURSDAY, JUNE 26
            As noted up top, I commuted to my first two SABR nationals, then stayed at the host hotel for the last four. For SABR 38, I did a little of both, arriving at the Renaissance Cleveland Hotel for the Thursday and Friday, then staying with a friend on Saturday PM and Sunday. For those keeping score, the cost of gas in Ohio was significantly lower than in New York, just as it was more expensive driving south from Vermont thru Massachusetts to Connecticut, and west thru the Carolinas on other recent trips. What is sad is that we are getting used to thinking that $3.80 is cheap . My hunch is that some latter-day Hugh Fullerton will eventually expose a Fix of some kind, but the wrong folks will be punished, while those who profited escape notice. Could happen.
 

            I had scouted the convention some, at the SABR web site, and while the lineup looked fine, few sessions looked like MUST GOs. I led off with a Thursday afternoon panel of broadcasters, then stayed on for Steve Steinberg’s excellent talk on Tris Speaker, who seemed to get the most out of many players in his managerial care. I complimented Steve afterward, and observed that his talk seemed to be well-received, since a number of folks were wearing name badges with “Speaker” tacked on. That was a joke, folks. Then I sat in on Gerald Wood’s talk on Smoky Joe Wood (no relation).
 

            Over dinner, I learned what I missed — Jon Miller and several others gave a special presentation, at a session that was listed in the SABR program as “Curt Smith: The State of Broadcasting.”  I don’t know how many others would have attended that session, had Jon Miller been headlined; I heard later from others that it was terrific. Oh well.
 

            I attended one other session Thursday, by Catherine Petroski on her father Bob Groom’s Legion ball team. And I did a lot of milling around, outside the sessions and in the vendors’ room, where a variety of publishers and booksellers served up tables full of baseball literature. I’m trying to cut down these days, my library’s waistline being a bit large for my office space, but I did purchase one thin volume, which I’ll eventually review here. I also sold a copy of A Baseball Family Album (Pocol Press was not among the vendors this year), my new book, so I guess I broke even.
 

FRIDAY, JUNE 27
            My second day began with the Baseball and the Arts Committee meeting, the hour passing swiftly because several members gave presentations that were worthy of inclusion in the convention schedule — I mean, for all to hear. I’m sure that there is an annual anguish among convention planners, about how to decide which proposed presentations should be selected. This abundance of material also puts pressure on anyone who (somehow) receives two half-hour slots in the program, back-to-back; they better be deserving, or those shut out from presenting at all will beef.
 

            Norman Macht was one such back-to-backer, and to be honest, I didn’t care what his topics were, I’d have gone to both talks anyway, because Norman is such a thorough researcher and careful presenter. He came through again, but instead of giving two distinct presentations, he combined them into one — which was fine for me and many others, but not so good for those who had expected a second session to begin halfway thru, when they joined the crowd in Ballroom B. (Ballroom B was not easy to find, by the way, and I think some folks may still be trying to find their way back. The Renaissance seemed like a fine facility, but had a quirky layout, a taste of Ebbets Field maybe, or the Polo Grounds. Free ice water and hard candy, a nice touch, but no free coffee or tea — sign of the times.)
 

            After lunch was the Players Panel. This one featured four former Indians: Super Joe Charboneau, rookie sensation in 1980 but only two sub-par seasons in the bigs followed; Vern Fuller, just a bit older than me, who played 2B 1964-70, before taking a job as a front-desk clerk at the downtown Cleveland hotel that he now manages; Dave Burba, who started his career in 1990, and who looked like he could still be pitching baseballs instead of insurance; and Kevin Rhomberg, an outfielder for three summers in the early 80s — .383 lifetime BA in 41 games, not bad. This quartet was bombarded by a steady stream of questions, some answered by one, some by all four. These player panels have always been a highlight for me, because somewhere in the comments you find little nuggets. Baseball is behind them now, they have moved on, at least into coaching, but on ; we fans have not, we are still hanging in there. We remember their play better than they do, sometimes. They were always entertainers, now they do it with stories. We like stories, we collect them. This hour-and-fifteen minutes sped by, and then they were gone. Again.
 

            Next, I took a break — there was a day when I tried to cram in as many presentations as possible, probably a hangover from the workshops and conferences where I was sent , by my employers, to absorb and bring back to the office and my co-workers, as many new ideas as I could carry. But those days are long gone, I shop around at SABR conventions, having learned many times that talking with friends old or new can yield more insight or fun or knowledge than many items on the relentlessly plodding agenda.
 

            As it happened, the next session I attended was another one of those back-to-backers. And this time, I think a half hour would have been sufficient. In Part One, Steve King told us who Dr Joseph Creamer was — he was “The Man Who Tried to Fix the 1908 Pennant Race” by bribing umpires. Part Two, the Untold Story got told. Those who joined the group for Part Two did not need Part One, which by itself had no business at all at SABR 38. Not when there were, apparently, a number of baseball talks crowding the dugout, looking for an at bat. Oh well.
 

            Finally (for me) there was the Deadball Era Committee meeting, highlighted by Norman Macht receiving the 2007 Larry Ritter Award for his Connie Mack biography (Part I). Burying the Black Sox got the Ritter for 2006, and I volunteered to be a judge for the 2008 Ritter, so look for a lot more baseball book reviews in NOTES in the next year — if my eyes hold out!  The Deadballers are a well-organized bunch, with the SABR Committee numbering around 700, I think. This committee has produced two excellent collections of biographies in recent years, and seems determined to keep on digging and publishing.
 

            My day ended at the ballpark. I don’t know when The Jake (Jacobs Field) became Progressive Field. I’m not used to names of parks being temporary, rented. Anyway, Friday’s game (like the night before) was delayed by rain. I had seen this park close up several times before, but I walked the perimeter inside and out anyway. Well, I was scouting for dinner, and found the cheese Pan Pizza a cut above the norm at ballparks. I only stayed put for a few innings. I was very distracted by a section of The Pro (can we call it that?) that seemed almost directly below the distant right-field upper deck seats that SABR reserved. “Heritage Park” looked like a mini-Stonehenge of monuments from above. I was told that the more visible upper ring or rock and metal plaques honored fifteen old Indians who made it to Cooperstown. Addie Joss, Bob Feller. Below and off to one side was a second gallery, plaques honoring other notables who had done something memorable.
 

            Shoeless Joe Jackson had a plaque. So did the popular Rocky Colavito, torn away from his fans in a trade for batting champ Harvey Kuenn. And Ray Chapman, a beanball fatality in 1920. And Andre Thornton, and the list goes on, and there were also bricks in the walkway recalling great moments, such as that game in the 1920 Series where Jim Bagby, the pitcher, homered and Elmer Smith slammed and Bill Wamsganss pulled off the only WS trifecta. I’m not sure, but I think the whole story is at indians.com . Anyway, Heritage Park intrigued me more than the game with the Reds, and I recommend a visit, next time you are at Whatever Park.
 

SATURDAY, JUNE 28
            I attended just one event on Saturday, the premiere showing of Base Ball Discovered, an MLB.COM documentary, based on David Block’s Baseball Before We Knew It , a remarkable book that I read and reviewed here several years ago. The film was followed by a panel featuring David, historian John Thorn, Tom Schieber (Curator of Cooperstown), and Sam Marchiano, who produced and directed BBD .
 

            I was intrigued by how such a book, filled with dense research and heaps of information, might be filmed. I recalled that I learned more about Abner Doubleday than ever before when I read the book, for example, and wondered if that would make the film. It did not. But to focus on the doughnut, and not the hole, the film was pleasantly informative and held one’s attention. You can look it up, via iTunes or MLB.com.
 

            If I might be permitted one small criticism, I wondered why the film included a kind of tangent on a research dead-end, that later struck gold. I refer to a report about the making of the documentary, telecast over the BBC, resulted in a lady in England finding an ancient document in her shed, a volume hundreds of years old, that contained a clear reference to base ball. When the film crew showed up at her country home to see it first-hand, she had lost it; when she found it some time later, the crew returned, and we got to see the discovery. Fine, but with so much else to cover (from the book), was the filming of the “false alarm” that important to include?  I’m not sure that it was.
 

            One other reaction, and this mirrored my reaction to David’s book. As we journey back in time, looking at all the games that have been called base ball, it seems that they less and less resemble what we know as baseballtoday. A “batter” standing over a small box, which at the tap of a foot will catapult a small ball upwards, where he will “bat” it forward, may be base ball , but not by every definition. I think this is what John Thorn was hinting at when he suggested that an essential feature of baseball is the duel between batter and pitcher — which would mean the games where the pitchers try to serve up deliveries to the batter’s liking, are not strictly baseball . And that makes sense to me. The older variations are, however, ancestors, and may have contributed some genes to today’s animal; so yes, they are of interest.
 

            Also of interest to me was how this session was scheduled in the convention: from 10 AM to Noon, but up against two committee meetings and four research presentations. The film was hyped with a special flyer that attenders received along with the programs, and that seemed a bit unfair to the committees and presenters. I do not object to the documentary being given two hours or hyped, not at all, but why not schedule it without competition, like the Players Panel, so all attenders can see it? 
 

            After this session I took a break from the convention, visiting with an old friend, and continuing my research on gambling, by lunching at Thistledown race track. The rains eventually struck, turning the track from fast to “sloppy,” and I wonder if baseball games should not continue in the rain, as long as there is no lightning … earning some teams the reputation of being good in the mud?  So I passed up an Awards Luncheon, more research presentations, a trip to Akron, and the Triviafest.
 

SUNDAY, JUNE 29
            I was back at the convention, with my friend along, for the final event, the Research and Writing Awards Breakfast. Because the convention was in Cleveland, where SABR’s annual Seymour Conferences are held each spring, the Seymour was collapsed into this session. After breakfast, a panel of publishers from McFarland, the University of Nebraska Press, Maple Street Press, and Potomac Books, entertained questions. I knew all of the panelists, at least somewhat, so this was of particular interest to me; I’ve been published by McFarland and Potomac, have a couple proposals with Maple Street, and had given U of N the first shot at Burying , although they (and another publisher, Walker) had seen only an early version, cluttered with stuff that eventually was weeded out into 700 footnotes, and supplemented by another year or so of research. Of course, a panel made up of publishers who have rejected my proposals over the years would not have fit onto the stage.
 

            It seemed fitting to end the convention with a meal. Much of the fun of SABR is meeting people — on the internet or in person, and to chat with them over a breakfast, lunch, dinner, on a convention break, or at a ballpark, can be richly rewarding. My friend Pete enjoyed the session and is thinking of joining SABR, based on just this Sunday morning exposure.
 

            Pete and I went to the Lake County Captains game near his home in Eastlake, Sunday afternoon. The rains chased us under the grandstand a few times, but never stopped the game. I had been to Classic Park before, a few years back (at a SABR/Seymour), for a chilly night game; this was an afternoon bake, so the rains were welcome. I enjoy minor league, we-try-harder baseball a lot, but sometimes I think the music is just a bit too loud, and the promotions overdone … can’t we just have a half-inning without the mascot doing something silly with kids, or ducking T-shirts fired at us, or watching the scoreboard screen scan the crowd?  All these things can be fun, and do draw fans and families, but once upon a time, fans came for baseball and conversation. Kinda like SABR conventions.
 

 

REVIEWS  
 

            A Baseball Family Album has received its second positive review, this from Joanne Hulbert, chair of SABR’s Baseball & the Arts Committee:
            “I highly recommend it to all baseball arts aficionados. Get your copy soon! The poems celebrate many baseball legends, each poem a beautifully crafted work.”
 

            And this review of Burying the Black Sox by Gordon McKinney appeared in Baseball in Chicago (pp 406-407):
 

            “Gene Carney’s study … is an essay with a specific interpretation. Carney is convinced that gambling on baseball was much more widespread than the owners were willing to acknowledge, and the evidence about the 1919 World Series is not as clear as previous authors indicate. He makes it clear that many major leagues succumbed to the temptations of making extra money — possibly including the seeming righteous Eddie Collins. [I think this is a reference to that 1917 hanky-panky.] I found this part of his argument very convincing in its detail — which confirmed the suspicions of other authors including Bill James who have reached similar conclusions. Carney further demonstrates how difficult it is to know conclusively the particulars of the 1919 “fix.”  One thing that he does make transparent is the efforts by Charles Comiskey and others to keep hidden the complicity of the White Sox players in the scheme. This plan worked well enough to allow the White Sox to remain in contention for the 1920 American League pennant until the last few days. In addition to these main story lines, Carney discusses minor controversies throughout the book and offers the best evidence available on each one. This book will not be the last word on this ignoble enterprise, but Carney has broadened the context for the discussion. In doing that, he has demonstrated that baseball’s gambling problem was much larger than Chicago and the 1919 World Series.”
 

 

BIG DEAL  
 

            So the baseball that Barry Bonds hit for his 756th home run has landed again — this time in Cooperstown. Big deal? It is to M*rc *ck*, who bought it, made it the subject of an absurd poll, then branded it — thereby hoping, I guess, to share a bit of immortality at least with baseball fans, by linking his name with the lifetime achievement of Bonds. Sad, methinx. If I were the guy in Cooperstown who sets up displays — and there is no chance of that ever happening — I’d put #756 in a case, with its asterisk completely hidden, and without mention of Mr *ck*.
 

            The Hall of Fame’s Museum is fussy about what it accepts, and rightly so. If it was open to any and all donations, it would probably have warehouses filled with bats, balls, scrapbooks, and you-name-it. I don’t think the Hall usually accepts items that have been marked up by their owners — if they did, I suspect we would see corporations buying old uniforms, for example, and we would soon mistake Lou Gehrig’s Yankee pinstripes for a NASCAR driver’s suit, plastered with logos. And hang it near the entrance, OK?   Right.
 

            In the case of #756, the handoff was apparently not smooth. The $752,467 object was to be added to the permanent collections , and as a donation , not just a loaner. It was not revealed to the public, exactly what the impasse was, that delayed the arrival of #756 by months. My hunch is that it had something to do with the owner’s ego, and the Hall’s desire to accept the ball on the Hall’s own terms, without embarassing itself or MLB.
 

            Now imagine that you are on the Hall’s staff, and you have to write the caption for this particular artifact. Good luck. You will feel pressured to be “objective” — label it #756 and let it go at that. And you will feel pressured to explain the curious mark on the ball, “a five-pronged asterisk,” which will probably be visible, as a tack-on story. (I would be tempted to describe the mark as the claw marks of a seagull who salvaged the thing from McCovey Cove. Do gulls have claws?)
 

            In any case, you will feel pressure, because you will be setting a precedent. If you single out #756 as if Barry Bonds is the only player suspected of bulking up, that’s a problem. And of course, we have no idea how many of his home runs we produced under the influence of anything illegal , because baseball was so slow to ban so much, and who is sure what who was taking, anyway?  Maybe the perfect captions would be: “Barry Bonds’ 756th HR Ball. Nuf ced.” 
 

 

SAVE THE TIGER  
 

            It was a Jack Lemmon movie title, then a battle cry in Detroit, when Tiger Stadium became endangered. Still is, I think. But now, the Oneonta Tigers have been sold. They will stay put for at least two years, but after that?  Not too early to start the campaign to keep them at Damashke Field.
 

            Owner Sam Nader, who turns 89 soon, was in a group that bought the NY-Penn league franchise in 1966 for $10,000. Oneonta was a Yankee farm from 1967 thru 1998, then hooked up with Detroit the past decade. Few fields are as intimate as Damashke, few owners as gracious and personable as Sam Nader. OK, I’ve only met a couple owners, but Sam is tops among those I’ve met.
 

            Not a summer goes by without my missing the Utica Blue Sox, and I know I’m not the only fan in central NY who feels that way. Elmira, Watertown, Little Falls, and other cities who once had NY-Penn franchises, have lost them in recent years. You know, if someone bought the team and pledged to keep them in Oneonta, I would not mind if they hung their name on the ballpark. And if they kept Damashke , I’d respect them even more.
 

 

REQUIEM FOR A BASEBALL HISTORIAN  
 

            I first met Jules Tygiel in Reading, PA, where he was a visiting faculty member in the spring of 1999. Jules had put together a symposium at Albright College, to honor the retiring David Voigt. I wrote about the event in Notes #189 . I’m not sure if I had read his classic work on Jackie Robinson, Baseball’s Great Experiment . I do know that it was before I read Past Time , which I reviewed in #216 .
 

            When I first asked about the Black Sox in summer 2002, Jules was the first to give me a key starting point: “Hugh Fullerton.” Since then, I saw Jules again in Arizona, at the NINE conferences, and he asked the question that started me thinking about the problems with Eight Men Out , the book and film. We met again in Cooperstown, at a symposium, where my answer to his question was in my talk “Eight Myths Out.”
 

            I had heard that he had cancer, then nothing more till I learned just now of his passing. We have lost one of the great ones. A professor of history at San Francisco State University, Jules Tygiel was a huge fan of Barry Bonds, and at one of the NINE conferences, gave an impassioned defense, grounded, as always, in facts. Reason is the slave of passion , wrote Hume, and I’m not sure if Jules changed anyone’s mind, but it sure was fun watching his brilliant mind at work on the issues.
 

            Jules is gone but he’s left behind a wonderful legacy, one he did not purchase, but earned. Here is my review of Past Time , from Notes #216 , June 30, 2000.
 

 

A BOOK FOR ALL SEASONS  
 

            Past Time — Baseball as History, by Jules Tygiel (Oxford U. Press, 2000) is one terrific baseball book, and if you don’t get to it this summer at the beach, read it by the hot stove. It’s the second book by Tygiel that I’ve read — Baseball’s Great Experiment: Jackie Robinson and His Legacywas the first, and while I’ve mentioned that book here in Notes several times, I never reviewed it here — inexplicable!
 

            Actually I read Jules Tygiel all the time, on the SABR-L internet Digest. And I met him last spring at that Reading, Pa., symposium honoring David Q Voigt. So I was disposed to enjoy his new book, but I’m sure anyone can enjoy it without knowing Jules Tygiel — and without knowing baseball very well, either.
 

            That’s because Past Time  is a collection of nine independent essays, arranged more or less chronologically, that provide not just glimpses, but good, panoramic looks at America, from the 1850’s to the present.
 

            The lead-off essay probes into why baseball, and not its one-time arch-rival cricket, caught on. The origins of religions are always fascinating for me, and baseball’s earliest days, seen through historians’ eyes, is no exception. Before baseball, there was no real national game, because America was not quite yet a real nation, not until the Civil War was fought and its healing aftermath settled in. When the cannon and gunsmoke cleared, baseball had survived, and was ready to spread into towns and cities.
            Past Timeincludes a remarkable portrait of the original stat-man, Henry Chadwick, who deserves a good biography. Any baseball writer feels a certain kinship with “Father” Chadwick (and with Al Spalding), and a little jealousy as well. In their day, the game was still in flux, and ideas offered to improve the sport were sometimes taken. Chadwick’s hatred of the over-the-fence home run put him in the minority of fans.
 

            Other baseball patriarchs, better known and biographed, are also treated, under the heading of success stories: Charles Comiskey, Connie Mack, John McGraw and Clark Griffith. Comparing their careers is a kind of primer of the sport’s economics, not the prettiest side of baseball, but vital to understand.
 

            Tygiel takes a long look at the media as a force in shaping America by visiting the 1920’s, where the country found “new ways of knowing.”  Radio and film and an explosion of print revolutionized and changed the nation forever. Not just baseball, but advertising, and all industries were affected. Babe Ruth indeed came along at the right time to make hero — earlier, he’d still be famous, but like Ty Cobb and Honus Wagner; later, and his excesses might not have been so hidden or forgiven. But in the twenties, he could be a living legend.
 

            The thirties and the great depression are covered in a study of Branch Rickey and Larry MacPhail. The chapter on the Negro Leagues is dazzlingly detailed and, like the whole book, extremely well documented. (The footnotes are all at the end, and not at all distracting.) Bobby Thomson’s home run in 1951 is the vehicle to see the influence of New York City, the media center, on our collective memory, as well as the rise of television as a major player in the American game — again, not only in baseball.
 

            I enjoyed very much the essay on the end of the ten-city monopoly that was once the Major Leagues. Tygiel documents not just the movement of teams, but the politics and laws of the day. And we see the reactions of fans in the “winning” cities, as well as the better-known sorrow of fans who lost their teams. This is probably the best overview of the maneuvering of teams between 1953-1972 I’ve seen. Tygiel also gives us an insight into the importance of being “major league” for a city’s image, if not its collective consciousness.
 

            In the final essay, Tygiel tosses out something for everyfan — including the Rotisserie nuts, film buffs, and TV addicts. I no longer think anyone can truly “touch all the bases” in a single book, but Past Timecovers a lot of ground.
 

            Past Timeis both thoughtful and thought-provoking. It reads easily, making the learning process fun. I have recommended the book to my wife, a non-fan, and hope to include her reactions in a future issue of Notes . (Hey, she loved The Brothers K!)