Baseball has a unique power that can suck people into a
longtime-obsession—both for fans and those involved directly with the
professional game. It’s a bug that when caught often becomes chronic. This is
exemplified by Eddie Robinson’s Lucky
Me: My Sixty-Five Years in Baseball (With C. Paul Rogers III; 2011;
University of Nebraska Press), which chronicles his nearly seven decades as
a player, scout and front office man.
Robinson was a good but not great first baseman who carved
out a 13-year major league career with seven teams between 1942 and 1957. The
four-time All-Star came from humble origins in Texas and became a big league
regular in 1947 following a three-year stint in the military. Having access to
details of his earlier years is fascinating; as a boy who always wanted to play
professionally was able to live out that dream after toiling in the sandlots,
the minors and for Uncle Sam.
Unlike some memoirs, Robinson is very candid throughout. He
doesn’t mince words talking about why Lou Boudreau wasn’t his favorite manager.
His description of how he and teammates once held down Phil Rizzuto and dyed
his nether parts blue just before his wedding is cringe-worthy but also an
honest look inside look at clubhouse shenanigans.
Following his playing career, Robinson went on to act as
general manager, scout, minor league director and president for a number of
teams. Here, his anecdotes are just as entertaining as those from when he was a
player. Working for famous (or infamous) owners like Charles Finley and George
Steinbrenner gave him enough material that another entire book probably could
have been written.
The business of baseball is laid open in this book. This
isn’t a “tell-all’ per se but Robinson wore so many hates, both literally and
figuratively, during his career that he was privy to a much bigger picture than
most others who publish similar work. He also doesn’t hold back from talking
about situations that weren’t the most pleasant. From describing how he fired
Hall-of-Famer Eddie Matthews as manager of the Atlanta Braves because of
excessive drinking; to his disdain for former player and manager Davey Johnson,
who he believes worked the system to get a bonus he didn’t deserve, there is a
veritable treasure trove of his experiences over the years.
Robinson was also present during many major baseball moments
through the years. This includes: playing with Lary Doby, the American League’s
first African-American player, during his inaugural season in 1948 with the
Cleveland Indians; acting as the GM of the Braves when slugger Hank Aaron hit
his record-breaking 715th home run in 1974; negotiating with union head Marvin
Miller just as the players started to get more of a voice.
Given his extensive experience in the front office, a little
more detail of the art of the deal and the process of scouting and signing
players would have been a welcome addition. Granted, these are Robinson’s
memoires but over the years there were likely innumerable great stories on that
side of the ball that didn’t make it to these pages.
On the other hand, Robinson does take on other issues like
race and player/manager relations that are often glossed over or simply ignore
in similar works. Their inclusion doesn’t have value because of sensationalism
but because of its very real and pervasive impact in the game.
Anyone who likes baseball will enjoy Lucky Me. The amount of time Robinson devoted to baseball is
staggering, and it is therefore not surprising how many stories he has to
share. Other “lifers” (like Tommy Lasorda and Don Zimmer) may get more
attention but there others out there who put just as much into the game and
have had experiences that deserve the spotlight.
Disclaimer: I was provided with
a free copy of this book, but received no payment or other consideration for
this review.
********************************
You can check me out on Facebook or follow me on Twitter @historianandrew
No comments:
Post a Comment