editors: laura berman howie brick contributing editor: mary long Sunday mogazine inside: page four-books page five-swami page six-week in review Number 5 Page Three Octo FEATUF ber 6, 1974 tES Ba se then By DAN BORUS DAVE BRISTOL is a stockily built man with a Marine brush cut and an ability to chew tobacco un- der any circumstances. When he's not getting his hair clipped or ex- ercising his jaws, Dave Bristol coaches third base for the Mon- treal Expos baseball team, a job which allows him to get out and about. So when a stateside television announcer asked him how he liked the predominately French Cana- dian city, Bristol had a ready ans- wer. Said Dave, "It's the best god- damn baseball town in America.,, While Bristol's geography is cockeyed, his notion of the link be- tween baseball and America is as solid as a line drive to the left- field corner. Despite a number of pretenders to the crown, baseball remains the "great national game." Critics of the sport attack its slow pace, its over-reliance on sta- tistics and tradition, and its lengthy schedule. But these are precisely the elements which in- sure its continuation as the Great American Game. T OCKED AWAY IN the pages of any good baseball encyclone- dia - Grosset & Dunlap's sunerb The Snorts Encyclopedia: Baseball, for examole, is t book that can rest proudly on any shelf - is a wealth of information on America's cul- tural history, social mobility, civil rights, corporate structure, charac- ter, and, above all, style. Far though they may deny their interest, Americans project into their national game the same feel- ings and concerns they project through their movies, recordings, books, occupations, and clothing. No other sport has the breadth or the history to so completely mirror American life. As a result of baseball's proxim- ity to the national pulse, each era of American history has a baseball team which marks that period of American life, both in baseball s t y 1 e a n d team composition. Though by no means the most suc- cessful squad of the period, the team of the decade is the one which has swept public fancy. * * * WHEN JOHN RUSKIN isn't work- ing the back docks at Smith- balk A 9ationa l Schraff Paper Company, he's down the road a bit at Busch Memorial Stadium watching his beloved Car- dinals. When he talks about them he just lets the words come out in streams, not real sentences. "Or, I'd say I started watching the Redbirds (everybody in St. Louis calls them the Redbirds) in 1930. Never liked the Browns (St. Louis' other team). They won the pennant that year, real easy like. But those Philly A's skunked them in the Series. But the next year, it was the same two clubs, you know. And it looked bad for the Cardinals. "But they had this little guy with the funniest hawk nose you ever re flection spirit in of sport the most socially mobile, moving towards a fuller integration with the mainstream of American cul- ture. Many championship teams of this period had the proper ethnic mix and baseball excellence to qualify as the team of the period, yet baseball still lacked a national image. The sport was fiercely cele- brated communally, but the na- tional scope was still missing. * * * Not until the establishment of a national homogenous culture did baseball truly become the national game. The First World War and the pursuant affluence transform- ed America from a nation steeped Though they may deny their interest, Ameri- cans project into their national game the same feelings and concerns they project through their movies, recordings, books, occupations, and clothing. No other sport has the breadth or the hi, torv' to so comoletely mirror American life. did see, Pepper Martin. Well he ran that Mickey Cochrane and that whole A's club crazy. Did ev- ervthing. That was the best per- formance I ever stw. "Cochrane lost a lot of money in the crash, did you know that? Well. he did, and this here Martin was a noor rookie. Rode to train- inv camo on the back of a freight train. Just the funniest thing I saw in those days. After that it didn't matter what the Cardinals did T was with them all the way. Never forgot that Martin: Never will either." -ASEBALL'S INFANCY is a large- ly uncharted area and the ear- lv years of organized baseball are hard to digest and analyze, owing to the confusion in rules, scoring, and the scarcity of completely ac- curate renorts. In those early years (1880-1919) Organized Baseball was largely the province of Irishmen, Germans, and Jews who played un- der Irish names for obvious rea- sons. Not coincidentally, it was precisely these groups which were in what historians term productive values with their emphasis of thrift, frugality, and emotional re- pression to consumptive values which stress spending, enjoyment, and emotional release. Baseball followed suit. Having suffered its crisis of confidence from the infamous "fixed" 1919 World Series, organized baseball responded with its brand of Re- publican normalcy and emotive liberation, a combination which restored the public's confidence in the game and put the public's money in the game's pocket. REPUBLICAN NORMALCY w a s personified by the newly nam- ed Commissioner of the game, Judge Kennesaw Mountain Landis. Landis, was a non-nonsense type who ruled Organized baseball with autocratic touches. His strict de- meanor and espousal of old vir- tues restored a measure of confi- dence in the Grand Old Game. Emotive liberation in style was the password of the decade's team, the Yankees, and their mainstay and guiding light, Babe Ruth. Whereas teams prior to the Twen- ties scraped for their runs in the frugal, thrifty manner of precise singles and even more precise bunts, the Yanks, or Bronx.Bomb- ers as sportswriters so aptly chris- tened them, were explosive and wild. The lineup was the first to earn the overworked cliche, "Mur- derer's Row, but earn it the Yanks did. In 1927, by far their most pro- ductive year, they led the majors in every offensive category but doubles. They were, with their flashy home runs and flashy bankrolls, the team of the Jazz Age. The game's most popular and identifiable figure is most surely Babe Ruth, a gargantuan man who accomplished gargantuan feats in the course of a gargantuan life. If Fitzgerald did not entertain an un- fortunate prejudice a g a i n s t baseball as a setting for fiction, he would have created the Babe. UTH WAS NEVER at a loss for a reply, never anywhere but at home as he sauntered from speak- easy to speakeasy in his off-the- field hours. He was a man who knew his own worth. One day a re- porter questioned Ruth on his an- hands when this rawboned kid named Dean struck out nine straight World Champion Philadel- phia A's in the spring of 1931. But they also knew he was a bit flaky. He had charged through the streets of St. Joseph Missouri this summer before driving at full blast. When a sheriff drove past the other way yelling, "Hey this is a one way street." The kid yelled back, "How many ways do you think I'm going?" For his logic, he earned a night in custody. He was only Cardinal property by virtue of the fact that he had been booted out of the Army be- cause the Army knew he was more than they could handle. The kid had been put on the manure de- tail, and when he was ordered to deposit the contents of his wheel- barrow on the flowerbeds of his immediate commanding officer, he replied, "I'm sorry, sir, the general comes first. But you're number two on my shit list." JN TIME HE WOULD pitch the Cardinals to the 1934 World Championship and into the Hall of Fame at Cooperstown. Just like he told everybody he would. As the kid said, "It ain't braggin' If Ole Diz can do it." * * * In 1934, Dizzy Dean was just what the doctor ordered. In days highlighted by little to eat, little to do, bank failures and dust bowls, Dizzy Dean was stringing along, having a great time and letting ev- eryone else in on the joke. His team was built for him and it was built for the Hard Times. Known as the Gashouse Gang for their rough play and the omni- dirty uniforms, the St. Louis Cardi- nals hustled, scratched and stole their runs and victories, challeng- ing everybody along the way. Their's was not the frugal game of the early years nor was it the aloof power of the Yankees. The Gashouse Gang was the first championship club to have the nu- cleus of their starters from the South and Southwest. They were poor WASP's from the dustbowl and shantytowns who honestly admitted that if they weren't blessed with the ability to hit, run, and throw, they would be in the breadlines. Their reign was a short one, but is one which is always mentioned by erstwhile fans as baseball's most colorful one. THE FORTIES HAVE always been referred to as the decade of maturity in which all cultural trends solidified in the pluralistic society, heightened by America's emergence as a world power. Baseball finally integrated all those who had not fully enjoyed free reign in the game. For the first time there was a preponder- ance of Poles and Italians, and in 1947 the first black. Lopats, Berras, Furillos, and Robinsons poulated the major league rosters the same way that Lopats, Berras, Furillos and Robinsons dotted the lists of university professors, business ex- ecutives, and politicians. Perhaps the team which best captured this new ethnic mix was the Dodgers. With Carl Furillo pa- trolling right field, Jackie Robin- son, the game's first black, at sec- ond. PeeWee Reese at short, and Carl Erskine, Don Newcombe, Ralph Branca on the mound, the Dodgers became a National League dynasty well into the Fifties. They aroused in their fans passions the likes of which have rarely been seen in public, and their stories Hank Aaron During the short-lived Seventies, Aaron's break- ing of its most cherished record, discord in the first player strike in 1972, and just this week the naming of the first black manager. A Kaline 1974 is a watershed year fcr baseball and with it the established stars are gi ving way to a %A, A ^ IQ i?% , I ^ ' t" ( "* . r:a is Al ; iO n 0 yr