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Book Review: Triumph And Tragedy In Mudville - A Lifelong Passion for Baseball

Triumph And Tragedy In Mudville: A Lifelong Passion for Baseball
By Stephen Jay Gould
W.W. Norton & Company, 2003
342 pp. $24.95

What could a distinguished paleontologist possibly understand about baseball? A great deal, as it turns out. Especially when the scholar in question was Stephen Jay Gould, author, lecturer and Harvard professor, but more importantly, lifelong Yankees devotee who managed to have a soft spot in his heart for long-suffering Red Sox fans. During his career of writing over 300 essays for Natural History, Gould looked at baseball in various ways, from fondly recalling trips to Yankee Stadium with his father, to analyzing the sport’s statistical quirks and peculiar mythology of how it came to become America’s pastime.

The tone of this collection is set by its cover, which features humorous caricatures of great players past and present (with the extremely rotund author placed prominently among them) so the reader can have fun identifying them. With a foreword by David Halberstam, you know you’re in for a treat. Gould opens with vivid memories of a boyhood in New York playing street stickball and watching the Yankees dominate the Brooklyn Dodgers every year except for 1955.

We learn of Gould’s admiration for the greats: Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams, Micky Mantle, and even an early outfielder who, because he was deaf, bore the nickname of “Dummy”Hoy but was one of the wittiest, most intelligent players of his time. In looking at how the game has changed over the last century, Gould does a statistical analysis of batting averages and comes up with some startling conclusions about why no one hits .400 anymore.

In another essay, Gould looks at the widely-accepted story that Abner Doubleday invented the game of baseball in Cooperstown, N.Y. in 1839. More likely, baseball evolved from earlier ball and stick games such as an English version called “rounders” brought over by the first colonists. But that didn’t suit baseball bigwigs such as A.G. Spalding, baseball’s first great pitcher and later head of the sporting goods company, who established a committee in 1907 to promote Doubleday, a Civil War hero, as a suitable founder for this all-American sport. According to Gould, the myth took root from there and has flourished since, partly due to the fan’s primal need for a creation story as opposed to a less-defined evolutionary process. Gould’s slightly cynical and dry approach to this hallowed subject may touch a nerve and annoy a lot of people who hold Cooperstown close to their hearts. That doesn’t stop him from feeling awe as he stands in the Hall of Fame and gazes at a mound of dirt from Ebbetts Field, first home of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

I am especially grateful for an essay oddly entitled, “Jim Bowie’s Letter and Bill Buckner’s Legs.” After describing the misconceptions surrounding a letter penned by the dying Bowie under siege at the Alamo, Gould draws a parallel by showing how our collective memory has warped the egregious moment when the infamous ball went through Bill Buckner’s legs in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. He reminds us that the score was already tied and there was still one more game to play to actually win the Series. However, perhaps because the pain was so great, we’ve forgotten this, and blamed Buckner for single-handedly costing the Red Sox their first World Series win since 1918. (Buckner has survived just fine. He and Mookie Wilson of the Mets sometimes appear appear together and sign autographs.) Thanks to Gould’s clarification, we can feel the cloud of the Babe’s curse clearing slightly, just in time for the 2003 playoffs.

Although I had trouble following the statistical graphs and tables, I found his essays entertaining and enlightening. Stephen Jay Gould lost his battle with cancer in early 2002, and his wit and sensibility will be sorely missed.

I would give this book 2 out of 4 balls

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Our Rating System is based on a four ball system as follows:
One Ball: Average. It has something to say but is nothing special.
Two Balls: Something men usually have - also means its a cut above average, and worth reading/owning.
Three balls: Stands out from its peers and is highly recommended.
Four Balls: More than just what two men have when hanging out together, it means it is an exceptional book that truly earns a walk - straight to the local book store to get a copy.

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