Maury
Allen |
|
|
|
BOOK! Maury knows the Amazin' Mets quite well, but the new book about them barely breaks the surface of their story |
 |
Avoid this disappointing
new book on The Mets
of TheColumnists.com
The most emotional day I ever spent in a ball park
was June 15, 1977, the day the Mets traded The Franchise.
That’s what we regular sportswriters covering the Mets called
Tom Seaver when we didn’t refer to him in print by his other
nickname of Tom Terrific.
Seaver had changed the Mets all by himself. This was a joke team
until he showed up in 1967, won 16 games at the age of 22, won
16 again the next year under new manager Gil Hodges and won the
Cy Young award and led the Mets to their first World Series in
1969 at the age of 24.
By the time free agency reared its ugly head in 1976 and 1977,
M. Donald Grant, Chairman of the Board of the Mets, was growing
weary and jealous of Seaver’s connection with the team and
the town. Salaries were escalating and Grant, a fiscal Neanderthal,
wouldn’t go for a new contract for his star pitcher or an
extension that would tie him to the team for years.
The tension around the team grew. Seaver wanted a better deal
in light of the big bucks being made by new free agent Reggie
Jackson, across town with the Yankees, and old teammate and pal,
Nolan Ryan, now with California.
New York Daily News columnist Dick Young, whose son-in-law, Thornton
Geary, worked for Grant and the Mets, bitterly attacked Seaver
in print as an ingrate. He also suggested Seaver was jealous
of Ryan’s standing and success in California. At the time,
Young placed the blame for the tension around the team on Seaver
and his wife, Nancy, allegedly jealous of the gold and glory
Ryan’s wife, Ruth, was achieving around California.
In those days, I was the New York Post columnist fighting Young
every step of the way. I attacked the Mets for their stinginess
and Young for his slanted reporting.
In a blistering hot Atlanta clubhouse, with over a hundred media
members squashing into that old field, the deal to trade Seaver
was announced as Seaver ducked out to avoid the furor and flew
home to Greenwich, Ct.
“I had only been the manager of the team a couple of weeks
and all of this fell on my head,” laughed Yankee manager
Joe Torre, as he sat in the Stadium dugout the other day. “That
was one of my toughest days in the game.”
Peter Golenbock’s new book, “Amazin’:The Miraculous
History of New York’s Most Beloved Baseball Team (St. Martin’s
Press, $27.95), misses most of this drama. Golenbock is a wonderful
recorder and typist.
On page 186 of this oral history of the team Golenbock writes,
“Of all the moves that Bing Devine made, none was more important
than convincing George Weiss to change his mind and pay the $50,000
for Thomas George Seaver, one of the finest pitchers ever to
play the game.”
The old journalistic line says, “Say anything you want about
me but spell my name right.”
Golenbock spelled it right but got it wrong. The pitcher’s
name is George Thomas Seaver and those writers around the team
for years often kidded Seaver by calling him “George,”
a name he detested.
When Seaver’s wife, Nancy, wanted to chide him she would
often call him, “George.” He blanched.
The emotion packed into that June 15, 1977, evening when Seaver
was traded away was almost immeasurable. Seaver’s standing
with the Mets and their fans was equal to the standing Babe Ruth
had when he moved on to Boston in 1935.
The Babe played another 28 games. Seaver played another 10 seasons.
In collecting this oral history of the Mets in their 40th anniversary
season, Golenbock got some wonderful reminiscences from long
forgotten Mets players but put it all together with little sense
of connection.
The Mets of 1962--when the team first took the field--were a
collection of has-beens, never-will-bes, former Dodgers and former
Giants, fringe big leaguers and discards.
The other owners simply wanted to soak the Mets and collect big
bucks for New York visits.
With the magic of Casey Stengel, underplayed in Golenbock’s
collection of recordings, the team caught the imagination of
the fans. I had some bitter days with Dick Young. I have to give
him this one. Casey Stengel created the Mets. Young made them
lovable to the public.
Golenbock’s book reads like an accountant’s survey
of the expense accounts of the traveling executives. “Just
the facts, maa’m.” His recording of the early days
captures little of the joy of the return of National League baseball
to New York and the uniqueness of this team.
While the Houston Colt 45s, the other NL expansion team when
the Mets came in, were just horrible and boring the New York
team immediately became a national institution.
Part of the success depended on the players understanding their
roles. Around the Polo Grounds in that first year, there was
no more important contributor to this than Richie Ashburn. He
gets short shrift in this work.
Golenbock also has this annoying habit of quoting dead people
(maybe he sees dead people) consecutively with live people, an
awkward transition for anyone interested in examining the chronology
of the work.
He also devotes the last 65 pages or so of his book to the glory
of pitcher Al Leiter who speaks for the pennant winning Mets
of 2000. Leiter is interested in politics. He may be running
for something after his fastball leaves him. Golenbock may be
applying for his job as press spokesman.
One last thing about all of this: I don’t even know where
Rod Kanehl, an early Mets hero, is living these days or what
he is doing or has done 40 years after leaving the team. Kanehl
used to greet sportswriters after each game as they moved to
his locker to question him about certain plays by shouting, “You
saw it, write it.”
Golenbock clearly didn’t see it and certainly didn’t
write it.
© 2002 by Maury Allen.
The Maury Allen caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel.
You
can comment on this column online. Please address your message
to either "The Editors" or Maury Allen. To send an
email, click here: talkback@thecolumnists.com
| Home | About Us | Archives | Talkback | Shopping Mall |