(Note: The following is an enthusiastic recommendation to purchase Rob Neyer’s Big Book of Baseball Legends.  In the course of writing my review, I find myself including a couple of quotes that might be regarded as a little too revelatory concerning the book’s mysteries and conclusions.  In such cases, I have included a ***Possible Spoiler Warning*** so as not to ruin anyone’s potential enjoyment in reading the book.  Thanks.)

The Fear

I had a healthy sense of fear and trepidation when I bought the newly published work Rob Neyer’s Big Book of Baseball Legends (Fireside, 2008, 331 pp., $16.00 US)  I had read an excerpt on ESPN online.  He took a look at an interesting story about Thurman Munson, researched the facts, then concluded that it never happened.  Well, great.  That was disappointing.

So I wasn’t sure I wanted to buy the book.  I didn’t want to read a collection of stories where the conclusion was always “this never happened.”  Which seemed like the most likely result.  After all, how often do tall tales actually hold up to the harsh spotlight of close scrutiny?     

Yeah, I didn’t like the idea.  I thought I knew how it was going to play out.  One story being debunked after another.  Basically, I thought it was going to remove a lot of joy from the game.  Look, if I am going on a trip researching the strange and unexplained, I want to be riding shotgun with Agent Fox Mulder, not with Agent Dana Scully.  In other words, I want the guy who’s going to show me a world of mystery and wonder, instead of the skeptic revealing the mundane empirical emptiness behind it all.

Rob Neyer anticipates my fear.  The very first words he writes are “This book isn’t for everybody.  Seriously.”  He gets even more emphatic further down when he writes, “Some poor guy is going to get this book, probably as a Father’s Day gift, and despise every word in disgust.”  (p. XV)  And that’s how he greets the readers. 

But instead of scaring me off, I felt comforted.  Reassured.  Those words let me know, he gets it.  What I learned after I purchased and read the book is that, more than simply an excellent read, the book serves as a great lens you can use to examine the quirkier, more improbable side of baseball.  In the end, Rob Neyer’s Big Book of Baseball Legends doesn’t leave you disillusioned and disappointed.  It does the opposite.  It leaves you entranced, fascinated, and gratified.  It certainly leaves you more knowledgeable than before you read it, and – perhaps its greatest virtue – it fires up the imagination after you are done.

Why it Works

As I mentioned, my feelings going into the project were that almost every story would be declared false.  False false false.  And that didn’t strike me as a very pleasant reading experience.  What I eventually realized was that I was far too literal.  There was a far greater diversity of categories than “Absolutely True” or “Completely False,” many shades and variations to take into account.  For example: 

--  There are stories that are absolutely true.

--  There are stories that are pretty true, with a few insignificant details altered.

--  There are stories that are true in essence, with relevant details exaggerated for effect.

--  There are stories that have seeds of truth, but are largely products of fiction.

--  And there are stories that are false.

And in the end, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of material that Neyer was able to verify.  There was a lot more truth there than I expected.  I didn’t quantify it, but I felt like there was a lot more truth than fiction.  One fact after another, so many odd and random pieces actually fell into place.  It was quite astonishing.

The Rewards

Here’s a quick checklist of how most chapters break down: You get a fascinating story, which leads to a few intriguing possibilities.  You get some insight into Neyer’s impeccable research techniques.  You get some conclusions on the likelihood of the story being true.  You get some commentary that helps put the story in a greater baseball context.  And, finally, you get some insight on the human condition, examining the motivations for the storytellers. 

Even when stories are false, there are some interesting reasons why they are false.  Some stories are told to make the storyteller look good.  Sometimes the storyteller wants to make other people look good.  Sometimes the storyteller makes himself the butt of a joke.  Sometimes the storyteller wants to damage another person’s reputation.  And then there are cases where you can’t figure out why the story has been fabricated in the first place.  And even that outcome is thought-provoking. 

Here is a passage where Neyer discusses the motivations of baseball writer, Lawrence Ritter (***Possible Spoiler Alert***):

Rather, I believe (Ritter) simply held a deep affection for the players he interviewed, and more than anything else, he wanted them to come across well in the book.  I believe he felt indebted to these one time greats for their time and their wonderful stories, and he repaid them many times over.  For as long as they were alive, Ritter gave them a cut of the royalty payments from books sales (even though he was under no legal obligation to do so.)…And Ritter, in addition to giving all of us a great gift, gave his collaborators perhaps the greatest gift of all: he made them more interesting than they really were. (p.152)  (***End Possible Spoiler Alert***)

Going Deep

One of the best parts of the book is that each story tells us something about human nature.  I’m not reaching here.  I’m not ascribing meaning where there is none.  You can see the human spirit at work in the development of these legends.  It’s fascinating to see how memory falters over time, how details are made up out of whole cloth, how some storytellers find ways to add humor, while others invent stories out of pettiness, spite, and malice.

Here’s a revealing excerpt where Fred Lynn is used as an illustration of human nature (***Possible Spoiler Alert***): 

So, yeah.  You might not believe Lynn had some special ABILITY to hit better when his teams particularly needed him – I don’t believe he had that – but you can certainly understand why he might THINK he had that ability.  He played well in pennant races, he played well in October, and he played well in All-Star games.  He did it, he knows he did it, and he believes, naturally enough, that he did it because of something inside him.  (p.80) (***End Possible Spoiler Alert***)

That passage is interesting not because it’s an interpretation of statistics or of plausibility, but rather because it’s a general observation on how people shape the world around them.  While not always stated so explicitly, this is the kind of enjoyable theorizing each story generates.

The Writing

Not surprisingly, Neyer saves his most exhaustive chapter for Babe Ruth’s called shot, which is described by more than a dozen first-person eyewitness accounts, and also documented by two handheld cameras in the stands.  And Neyer comes to the conclusion that…  Well, I don’t want to say.  But I will point out that in addition to the biggest legends of the sport, he also researches stories revolving around more obscure historical figures like Joe Tepsic, Walter Mails, and Buck Lai.  Personally, I find these more fascinating than the Ruth called shot, because this was the first time I encountered any of these men, and the stories associated with them.  As a matter of fact, my favorite legend is the story involving Buck Lai, the Chinese utility infielder who supposedly played for John McGraw in 1928.  And part of what makes exploring the legend so entertaining is Neyer’s writing.  Here’s how he introduces things: 

There’s an awful lot about baseball I don’t know.  I don’t know about one percent of one percent of what there is to know about baseball.  Actually, I don’t know one percent of one percent of one percent.  Nevertheless, I’ve read a lot of baseball books and a lot well-researched articles over the years, and when I came across this item, my reaction was “Really?  There was a Chinese ballplayer?  That would have been a big story, right?  Wouldn’t I have read about that?” (p.164)

I won’t reveal how that turns out.  But I will say that Neyer uncovers one piece of information after another that only serves to deepen the mystery and make it even more fascinating.  It’s a fantastic chapter, and one that helps introduce a grossly under-exposed legend to the world at large.

Conclusion

There are hundreds of stories here, each one interesting in its own right.  I read the book cover to cover in three days, and found myself sacrificing sleep because I had a hard time putting it down.  It’s a great read, and I can recommend it for all baseball fans, regardless of how casually or feverishly they follow the game.  I was worried that reading this book would strip the game of its sense of joy and wonder, but it had the opposite effect.  As Neyer writes: 

Details are even more astonishing when they’re actually, you know, true. (p.221)

This is why we check good stories – details are more astonishing when they’re true.  By confirming many of the stories in the book, Neyer gives them even more power.  And as we all know, there are few stories as enjoyable as a powerful baseball story.   

Treat yourself to a unique baseball experience and pick up a copy of Rob Neyer’s Big Book of Baseball Legends.  

 
If you have any thoughts you want to share, I would love to hear from you.  I can be contacted at roeltorres@post.harvard.edu.  Thank you.