2021 Book Reading Summary

I have decided that, rather than continue to give each book I have read this year its own post, I would instead put together a summary of all the year's books, as I did last year. Listing the five books I had read and posted about previously, we have:

Big Sister, Little Sister, Red Sister: Three Women at the Heart of Twentieth-Century China by Jung Chang

Mao: The Unknown Story by Jung Chang & Jon Halliday

1964 The Greatest Year in the History of Japan: How the Tokyo Olympics Symbolized Japan's Miraculous Rise From the Ashes by Roy Tomizawa

How Baseball Happened: Outrageous Lies Exposed! The True Story Revealed by Thomas W. Gilbert

Marquard & Seeley by Noel Hynd

Now that I've listed my first five books of the year (you may check the blog to find the blog posts if you missed them and/or have an interest in reading them), here are summaries of what I read since then, starting with:

War Fever: Boston, Baseball, and America in the Shadow of the Great War by Randy Roberts & Johnny Smith

I haven't read a huge amount about the World War I era, but this very fine book co-written by Randy Roberts, a Purdue history professor, and Johnny Smith, a history professor and sports historian, covers the year 1918 very impressively, focusing on Boston and the nearby area, and several persons whose stories were all caught up in the turbulence of the time.

Pictured above is Charles Whittlesey, who grew up in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, attended Williams College and Harvard and went off to New York to practice law. He joined the Army once the United States entered World War I and became one of America's foremost heroes of that conflict, although he ultimately was a tragic figure. 

The next significant figure who is featured in the book is Karl Muck (pictured below), the conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra at the time. 

The third major figure is Babe Ruth (pictured below), who was a slugging pitcher for the Boston Red Sox at that point. 

As war raged in Europe, Americans found themselves taking sides. Germany's submarine warfare, in particular the sinking of the passenger liner Lusitania in 1915, was causing Germany and German-Americans to become suspect in the minds of many. In an age that extolled 100 % Americanism, Germans were viewed as a subversive element to American values. Karl Muck became a target as involvement in the war became more likely. Once the United States entered the conflict in 1917, journalists such as John R. Rathom of the Providence Journal (pictured below), took aim at alleged German spies and plots in general, and Karl Muck and the Boston Symphony in particular. The orchestra itself contained many German musicians as well as Muck as the conductor. Controversy broke out over his unwillingness to have the orchestra play "The Star Spangled Banner" (not yet the official national anthem) during performances. 

 Ultimately, Muck's affair with Rosamond Young (pictured below), a socialite and talented soprano, led to his undoing. Muck, who was under investigation by the predecessor to the FBI, ultimately was arrested and placed in a detention camp for the duration of the war, although his wife stuck loyally beside him throughout.

Muck ended up a broken man who was forcibly deported to Germany following the war. His story is a sad one and well chronicled by the authors.

Charles Whittlesey became inspired to join the preparedness movement in the lead-up to war. The book details very well the development of Whittlesey's unit that drew so heavily on New Yorkers. The story of "the Lost Brigade" and Whittlesey's actions in command of that outfit is also well told in all its rugged detail.

He returned to America a firm believer in the necessity of re-integrating Germany into the community of nations and he supported President Wilson's policies. A Medal of Honor recipient, he was a pallbearer at the burial of the Unknown Soldier. He met willingly with families of deceased members of "the Lost Brigade" and kept their memories alive. Worn down by his war experience and family concerns and having gotten his affairs in order, he booked passage on a ship bound for Cuba later in 1921 and jumped overboard to his death.

The Muck and Whittlesey stories surround the chronicling of the champion 1918 Red Sox and their biggest star, Babe Ruth. There was uncertainty that there would be a 1918 baseball season due to the need for military manpower for the war effort. Some 90 % of the players were declared to be eligible for conscription and the Red Sox had lost eleven players to the military by the beginning of the year. Gambling that the season would happen, owner Harry Frazee swung a deal with the Philadelphia Athletics that added valuable new names to the Boston roster and put much-needed cash in the A's coffers. 

The story of George Herman Ruth, Jr., a product of the Pig Town section of Baltimore and the son of first-generation German parents is well outlined from a boyhood in which his saloon-keeping father couldn't control the youngster and he was sent to St. Mary's Industrial School for Boys where he played baseball well enough to draw the interest of the Baltimore Orioles, then a minor league club in the International League. A pitcher who could also hit, the cash-strapped Orioles sold him to the Red Sox in 1914. By 1918 he was one of the top pitchers in the American League, coming off of two 20-win seasons and prone to reckless behavior off the field.

In a season that ended up being shortened due to War Department needs (men of draft age were required to enlist or take war-related employment in shipyards or munitions factories), Boston manager Ed Barrow (pictured below) made the decision to use his best pitcher in the outfield and first base, while taking his turn on the mound every fourth day.

It worked out to a season in which he posted a 13-7 pitching record and batted .300 with a league-leading 11 home runs.    

On the eve of the opening game of the World Series between the Red Sox and Cubs in Chicago, a terrorist explosion tore through Chicago's Federal Building where members of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW, known as the Wobblies) had been sentenced to 20 years in prison for violation of the Espionage Act.

The Red Sox went on to win the World Series in six games with Ruth accomplishing more as a pitcher than with his bat. Unlike Charles Whittlesey and Karl Muck, his story was moving in an upward trajectory. 

The book does an outstanding job of chronicling this particular time period, with anxiety over threats, real and imagined stirring the public. The flu pandemic which struck during 1918 also merits mention, as it should, and then the armistice in November that brought the war to an end. Each of the stories pertaining to the three key figures is well researched and makes for interesting and informative reading. 

Moving on from there I read the first two books of a three-volume biography of Connie Mack.

Connie Mack and the Early Years of Baseball by Norman L. Macht

For many years, Connie Mack was among the most esteemed figures in American baseball. Born Cornelius McGillicuddy in East Brookfield, Massachusetts, he lived a very long life and was a key figure in the birth of the American League in 1901. The first volume of this outstanding and meticulous biography takes readers from his birth in 1862 up to his early years of success in the American League with the Philadelphia Athletics. 

Mack played in the National League, and in 1890 in the rebel Players' League, primarily as a catcher, and established himself as a smart and handy player. He became player/manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates (pictured below), following which he managed the Milwaukee Brewers, at that time a club in the minor Western League, which was the precursor to the American League.   

 Mack became manager, part-owner, and treasurer of the Philadelphia franchise in the new American League in 1901, having partnered with respected Philadelphia businessman Ben Shibe (pictured below). The club came to be called the Athletics.

A widower by this time, his first wife, Margaret, having died following the birth of their third child in 1892, the tall, thin, and  Mack had developed a network of people throughout organized baseball that would grow and allow him to develop a winning team, given his keen eye for talent. 

By 1902 he had a pennant-winning club, and in 1905 the Athletics won another pennant and lost the ensuing World Series to the New York Giants. In the dugout during games he wore a business suit with a starched collar and for headwear a derby, bowler, or straw hat while he managed the club. Never taking the field, he would send his captain or a coach to make pitching changes. Directing the action with scorecard in hand, he was a master of player positioning. 

The gentlemanly Mack also typically referred to his players by their given names, not nicknames (unless he was relating stories about them later), so pitcher "Rube" Waddell was George and  Native American pitcher "Chief" Bender was Albert.  The eccentric Waddell had already proven to be a headache to managers in his previous major league stops, but he produced very impressively for Mack.

Although typically pleasant and friendly, Mack could unleash colorful language, especially in reaction to poor play on the field. And while he adopted an easygoing managerial style, he disdained late-night carousing and heavy drinking which he considered to be disrespectful to fellow players and the club's fans. While not one to enforce curfews on the players, he always seemed to know what was going on with his players when off the field. 

The author details the early years of the American League and the Philadelphia Athletics very well, and typically devotes a chapter to each season, although he occasionally goes overboard in his praise for his subject. He refutes the widely-believed notion that Mack was excessively tight with money. He could be very generous with family and associates and was willing to pay for good talent.

The club built what was a state-of-the-art ballpark named Shibe Park (which eventually became Connie Mack Stadium) that opened in 1909.

From 1910 to 1914, the A's won four pennants and three World Series titles. In 1911 and '13 they defeated the John McGraw-managed Giants (McGraw and Mack are pictured together below). McGraw was a very different personality, although despite McGraw's tagging of the Athletics as "Connie Mack's white elephants", a put-down that Mack turned into a lasting symbol of the club, there came to be mutual respect between the two. 

Mack is shown in later years with a white elephant (the symbol of the A's) below.

After being swept by the Boston Braves in 1914, and with a new rival in the Federal League competing for talent, a time came for Mack and his club to make changes, which are dealt with in detail in the next volume.

Connie Mack: The Turbulent & Triumphant Years 1915-1931

Having developed a winning club that won the World Series three times in four years, Mack found himself faced with the rival Federal League and some dissension in the ranks that led to his dealing star second baseman Eddie Collins to the Chicago White Sox in 1915. Other significant departures would follow and, having been a dominant club at the beginning of the decade of the 1910s, the Athletics endured seven consecutive last-place finishes. 

On the personal level, Mack had remarried in 1910 and had four more children in his second marriage. He supported a large extended family and kept several retired players on the payroll in various roles.

Still a respected evaluator of players and developer of talent, Mack was able to sign some good players during the fallow years (although he had his share of disappointments as well), although he sold or traded much of them away due to financial needs. One thing that becomes clear in reading this volume, is how little the economics of major league baseball have changed in over a century. Even long before free agency, wealthy clubs were able to obtain talent from lower-echelon teams either through advantageous trades or outright purchase while driving up the market value of players. When Mack determined that a veteran player was no longer affordable, he would accept offers that helped his team's bottom line or that could add needed depth to the roster. It pained him to trade players that he truly wished to keep and who were popular with the fans, such as catcher Wally Schang. Following the Federal League challenge and the downturn in fortunes due to World War I, fans began returning (even before Babe Ruth began slugging home runs for the Yankees), and Mack was able to rebuild the A's into a winning team again during the 1920s. 

In the meantime, the scandal surrounding the 1919 World Series led to a long overdue overhaul of baseball's governance. The National Commission was replaced by a commissioner in the person of Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis (pictured below). This led to friction with Ban Johnson, the founder and president of the American League, with whom Mack had been a long-time ally, which ultimately led to Johnson's downfall. 

In the 1920s Mack began assembling the team that would return the Athletics to the baseball pinnacle once again. The infusion of catcher Mickey Cochrane, outfielder Al Simmons, pitcher Lefty Grove, and first baseman Jimmie Foxx (who started out as a catcher) fueled the club's return to respectability. Mack resisted developing a farm system for the A's, instead working out deals with independent minor league teams to develop individual players, which ultimately proved unworkable for maintaining a winning club. But at this point his method still yielded impressive results.

The A's won the pennant in 1929 and faced the Chicago Cubs in the World Series. The author explores in depth the events surrounding Mack's decision to start little-used veteran Howard Ehmke in Game 1, in which Ehmke struck out a then-record 13 batters in turning in a complete game win. In the sixth inning of Game 4, the A's, down 8-0, pulled off a 10-run rally that resulted in a 10-8 final score. The A's pulled off a lesser rally in Game 5 to finish off the Cubs. Mack's team repeated in 1930, defeating the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series in six games. 

In a 107-win season highlighted by Lefty Grove's 31-4 record (Grove and Mack are pictured together below), the Athletics made it three consecutive pennants in 1931. In a World Series rematch, the Cardinals turned the tables on the A's and won in seven games, largely thanks to the exploits of 21-year-old center fielder Pepper Martin. 

The author concludes with a chapter highlighting Mack's popularity with the public at this point in his long career with the A's. He was 68 years old during the 1931 season and was much admired as a manager and a key figure in America's national pastime. He maintained a wide-ranging correspondence, with many of his baseball correspondents serving as unofficial scouts. And his extended network of former players was a testament to his fairness and reasonableness as a manager, and the esteem in which they held him. 

I put off reading the third volume until now, desiring to switch gears with my reading as 2021 wound down and 2022 commenced. When I write about my 2022 reading, I will start with the book with which I ended the old year and began the new, Wild Swans by Jung Chang.

2021 Reading: Marquard & Seeley

 

Before Alex Rodriguez and Jennifer Lopez, even well before Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe, there were notable romances involving baseball stars and talented women in show business. This is the story of one of those romances involving Rube Marquard, a star pitcher for the then-New York Giants and Blossom Seeley, a star of the vaudeville stage who was immensely popular in the 1910s and beyond. This very interesting book by Noel Hynd details the lives and scandalous affair that resulted in a brief marriage and a lasting friendship. 

Neither Marquard nor Seeley were using their original names by the time they became famous. Although there is some controversy about this (I will take Noel Hynd's word for it), Marquard started out in Cleveland, Ohio as Richard LeMarquis, son of a civil engineer who wanted no part of his son's baseball dreams. He later claimed to have changed his name to Marquard in order to play baseball. Blossom Seeley started life as Minnie Guyer in San Francisco in 1891. 

Seeley's road to stardom was smoother than Marquard's. A child star in her native city, she used her dancing and acting ability in addition to her big singing voice to belt out ragtime songs and made her way east via the vaudeville circuit. Upon arriving in New York she became a sensation. She also married her manager, Joe Kane. 

Marquard ran away from home to play baseball at age 16. Following an abortive trial with the Waterloo, Iowa club of the Iowa State League, he played semipro ball for an industrial league in Cleveland. Catching on with Indianapolis  of the American Association, he developed into a fine pitcher. The team's owner waited until Marquard's value was high enough to make selling his contract to a major league club most advantageous. A bidding war broke out in 1908 that the Giants won for $11,000. With an impressive fastball, the New York newspapers immediately dubbed him the "$11,000 Beauty", although his rookie salary was more like $800. Giants manager John McGraw made clear that the young prospect would spend most of his time initially sitting on the bench and observing the opposing hitters. In his first appearance of 1908 against Cincinnati, he hit the first batter he faced, walked the next two, and then gave up a grand slam. The loss marked his only decision of the season, and things were not much better in 1909, a year in which the Giants were a largely revamped club. Marquard posted a respectable 2.60 ERA and his record was an unimpressive 5-13. By the end of the 1910 season, the once highly-touted pitcher was reduced to a mop-up role in the bullpen and finished at 4-4 with a 4.46 ERA, and he was tagged "the $11,000 lemon". It all turned around in 1911 thanks to Marquard's work in the spring with pitching coach Wilbert Robinson (who is pictured at far left below, accompanied by manager John McGraw at center and long-time ace pitcher Christy Mathewson, at right in sweater, who was also Marquard's road roommate). 

 With an improved delivery and repertoire of pitches, Marquard posted a 24-7 record for the pennant-winning Giants. Greater things were in store in 1912 as the 25-year-old pitcher put together a record 19-game winning streak on his way to a 26-11 tally. Not only was this good for the Giants, it made Marquard a marketable offseason quantity on the vaudeville circuit. Handsome and more sophisticated than his nickname implied, he found himself teamed up with Blossom Seeley. The pairing blew up in the face of her manager/husband Joe Kane. Unhappy in her marriage, Seeley became involved with Marquard as more than a show business partner. The two were a hit on Broadway as Seeley performed a number called "The Marquard Glide". The pitcher held his own as a song and dance man. And off-stage scandal erupted as the aggrieved husband sought legal recourse for Marquard's alleged alienation of Seeley's affection, as opposed to his own abusive behavior toward her. A November trip to Atlantic City set off a bizarre series of events that could have come out of a movie comedy. Seeley's divorce from Kane was finalized early in 1913 and Marquard and Seeley went on tour, with Marquard making it clear that he expected a raise to $10,000 from the Giants for the next season. In California, with Seeley having become pregnant, the two married.    

Marquard signed with the Giants for less than $10,000, but still received a raise. As the Giants cruised to a third straight NL pennant, Marquard produced a 23-10 record and a 2.50 ERA. 

In August, the two became parents (the only time for either) to a son. The two returned to touring together in the fall of 1913, with critics panning Marquard's singing and dancing abilities as compared to those of his wife, although the duo remained popular with the public. 1914 proved to be a much more difficult year on the mound for Marquard, who went 12-22. As a result, he lost much of his drawing power as an entertainer, while Blossom's popularity remained high. The marriage began to unravel as Marquard suggested that she quit the stage and become a more traditional wife (it was truly a different time). Blossom stuck to her career, even if it meant parting company with her husband.

In the meantime, Marquard was also being courted by the new Federal League, a circuit that sought to lure talent away from the two existing leagues.  The Brooklyn franchise of the new league pursued Marquard, despite his off year in 1914. The pitcher was open to challenging baseball's reserve clause but ended up back with the Giants in 1915, where he had another uneven season until he was dealt to Brooklyn in August, which reunited him with Wilbert Robinson, his one-time pitching coach who now managed the Robins (which the Dodgers were called at that time due to their association with Robinson). 

With his marriage on the rocks and pitching for a new club, Marquard revived his career in 1916.  As a starter and sometime reliever, he posted a 13-6 record and 1.58 ERA for the pennant-winning Robins. The World Series against the Red Sox went less well, and an attempt to return to show business failed as well. Divorced from Blossom, his pitching career with Brooklyn continued effectively for several more seasons. 

As for Blossom, her career continued along successfully, and she found a new partner for her act, Benny Fields, who also became her third husband. Marquard and Seeley maintained a friendly correspondence following their failed marriage that lasted until her death in a New York City nursing home at age 82 in 1974. Marquard, whose major league baseball career ended in 1925, married twice more and remained a popular interview subject long after his playing days had ended. Inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1971, he lived until 1980 when he died at age 93.

As Noel Hynd aptly pointed out, the two of them belonged to a past that has largely faded away. Vaudeville is long gone, as are baseball's New York Giants, who departed for San Francisco following the 1957 season. What remains is their story, so well told in this slender volume. The background information, as well as their story, could be of interest to people intrigued by cultural or entertainment history in addition to baseball fans.  

 

2021 Reading, How Baseball Happened: Outrageous Lies Exposed! The True Story Revealed

 

This is a serious work of history, well researched and written by Thomas W. Gilbert, a Brooklyn-based baseball author. Not only does he blow much of the mythology surrounding baseball's origins out of the water, he also tells a lot about the history of New York City and the manner in which the United States developed socially and economically in the nineteenth century. I already knew that General Abner Doubleday did not invent the game. But I had believed that Englishman Alexander Cartwright (one of many bogus "fathers of baseball") had played a key role in baseball's development, which is not true. Nor is it true that baseball descended from the British games of cricket and rounders. While it has been a nice thing for Cooperstown, New York to host the National Baseball Hall of Fame, the true birthplace of baseball is New York City, with a major assist from Brooklyn. Hoboken, New Jersey, gets in on the action, due to it having contained the Elysian Fields, a popular resort area for mid-19th century New Yorkers where New York-based baseball clubs went to play. 

The man pictured above is Henry Chadwick, a transplanted Englishman who wrote about baseball, although he preferred cricket, and was a pioneering baseball statistician. He is among those who have been called "the father of baseball", although he certainly didn't invent the game by any stretch of the imagination. He was quick to question the Doubleday founding myth, although he mistakenly considered baseball to be descended from rounders. 

There are many other popularly believed myths about baseball's founding and early years that are shattered in this book. The Knickerbockers of New York were not the first organized club, and the 1869 Cincinnati Red Stockings were not the first to use paid players. Other than the variation on the name, the modern Reds are in no way related to the 1869 team. 

Charging admission to baseball games came about as a result of the early contests between clubs from Brooklyn and New York, which created fan interest. James Creighton, a Brooklyn pitcher, became baseball's first major star during the amateur era.

Utilizing a unique delivery, in keeping with the rules at the time, Creighton was highly successful until his untimely death at age 21. Like many of the baseball players of the mid-nineteenth century, he also played cricket. 

The so-called "New York game" followed the railroads and mercantile routes to become America's national game, pushing aside cricket and local bat-and-ball variations like "town ball". Philadelphia and Washington were fairly quick to adopt baseball, but Boston and eastern Massachusetts stuck with their local game for several more years. 

Where did the Doubleday myth come from, you might ask? It was a product of the Mills Commission that was created by baseball pioneer and sporting goods manufacturer Albert Spalding (pictured above) in 1905 with the goal of determining baseball's origins and proving that it was not derived from rounders, as Henry Chadwick had written in an article. The commission concluded that Doubleday invented the game in Cooperstown, New York in 1839. The commission-ratified myth became the officially-sanctioned story (taking on the mantle of holy writ, which is often similarly nonsensical, and like this myth, is no longer believed by knowledgeable people today). But the important thing is that the myth is a myth, or as author Gilbert terms it, bullshit. 

This book exposes lots of myths and bullshit. It is also an excellent read and very informative about baseball and America during the sport's early years.