Bob's Books - 'Off the Record' by Buzzie Bavasi

Buzzie Bavasi started out with the Brooklyn Dodgers, moved west with them to Los Angeles, was in on the ground floor for the expansion San Diego Padres and worked for Gene Autry with the Angels. With a break for World War II, he was in the baseball business from 1938 to 1984.

Off The Record is his memoir of a life in baseball. I gave five stars to Harold Parrott’s own baseball bio, The Lords of Baseball. Parrot worked with Bavasi in Brooklyn and LA and the book truly provided a look ‘behind the curtain.’

Bavasi’s book feels lightweight. As if you were talking over a few beers and he was telling stories. Which is fine. But it’s largely one short anecdote after another. There’s not a lot of detail or substance to the stories. Just sort of a “So I fired Durocher for badmouthing Alston. But Walter told me to hire him back the next day.” Then the next incident.

I’m always interested in books that tell about the Dodgers’ days in Brooklyn. Bavasi was there, and he does recount some things, but there’s not much to it. That’s not to say it isn’t without interest. He tells of his running the Dodgers’ minor league club in Nashua in 1946. While Jackie Robinson was playing in Montreal, Roy Campanella and Don Newcombe were integrating the New England League.

Bavasi tells of Jackie Robinson’s disingenuousness regarding his retirement instead of accepting a trade to San Francisco. And he certainly shares his thoughts on the changes in the game regarding players’ attitudes, agents and salaries (the book was published in 1987 and salaries were nothing like they are today).

This isn’t a bad book: but it feels like a single. And with Bavasi’s baseball resume, it could have been a home run. It falls in the bottom half of my Dodgers library.

Bavasi with Pee Wee Reese, Jackie Robinson and Roy Campanella: three Hall of Famers

Bob's Books - Bottom of the Ninth by Michael Shapiro

Bottom of the Ninth, by Michael Shapiro, is an interesting book. Subtitled Branch Rickey, Casey Stengel, and the Daring Scheme to Save Baseball From Itself, it is actually about two unrelated stories. The early part of the book focuses more on Casey Stengel's run as manager of the New York Yankees. The other story, which moves to center stage later, is about the attempt by Branch Rickey and William Shea to create The Continental League, a third professional circuit that would work with major league baseball, rather than be an outlaw league like the prior attempts.

 Both tales are about baseball, and the activities in the book take place in the short span of 1958 to 1960; though, of course, a great deal of background from prior years is included. From the title, I thought that Rickey and Stengel joined forces in some gargantuan baseball effort. But the Stengel and Rickey stories have nothing to do with each other. That's fine, but unexpected and resulting in a kind of disjointed book. I found the Continental League's brief time to shine the more interesting of the pair.

The National League had held off challenges from the American Association and other professional leagues.

Ban Johnson, Rickey's inspiration, had crafted the American League, tenaciously held on and then reached an agreement that resulted in Major League Baseball. The two then successfully fought off the Federal League in 1914 and 1915 (with help from Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, who was rewarded with a lifetime appointment as the first Commissioner of Baseball).

A 1922 Supreme Court Decision granted Baseball exemption from anti-trust laws. It was a multi-million dollar monopoly run by barons. After the Dodgers and Giants abandoned New York City (to the Yankees) for southern California in 1958, New York lawyer William Shea and future hall of fame executive Branch Rickey (architect of the powerhouse Cardinals and Dodgers teams) set out to bring major league baseball to seven big cities...and New York City. Future major league cities such as Houston, Minneapolis/St. Paul and Atlanta were part of the proposed Continental League.

These nine men nearly revolutionized
baseball in 1959. And they did force
long overdue expansion.

Shapiro does a nice job examining the rise and fall of the Continental movement, including the initial attempt to work with the major leagues and, after that failed, to work with Congress. The Continental had an uphill fight, but in 1959, it was a real threat to the majors. Obviously, the Continental never played a game, but it did force baseball to expand; something it had resisted for decades. The Astros, the Mets, the Rangers (who were first the Senators) and the Angels owe their formations to the Continental League's impudent attempt. 

Casey Stengel had failed miserably as manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers and the Boston (later Milwaukee, now Atlanta) Braves. He was managing the AAA Oakland Oaks of the Pacific Coast League in a nice `almost retired' gig. (he was almost 60). He was a complete surprise as the new Yankee hire in 1949, then proceeded to win five consecutive World Series. But Stengel, who had a loose usage of the English language, was an unconventional manager who platooned ball players (not done at the time) and wasn't afraid to claim credit and criticize his men.

After "only" two World Series titles in six years, it appeared that Stengel was in danger of losing his job

heading into 1960. Shapiro provides a nice look at the inner workings of the Stengel Yankees, as well as the roles played by Hall of Fame front office exec George Weiss and owners Dan Topping and Del Webb (proud constructor of a Japanese internment camp during World War II). After a third place finish in 1959, Stengel led the Yankees back to the World Series, where Bill Mazeroski sealed `The Old Professor's fate.

 There are plenty of books that deal with Casey Stengel and his time with the Yankees. It's worth reading here, but nothing to write home about. But the Continental League stuff provides a fascinating look at the last major threat to Baseball's monopoly. This one is worth reading.

Jackie Robinson is my idol, so I'm an unabashed Branch Rickey fan. Rickey created baseball's minor league farm system, which is likely the most important development in the game's history. He also signed Jackie Robinson and smashed baseball's color barrier. And, at the end of his career, he nearly established a new major league and in the process, forced the first expansion in decades. Rickey may well have had the greatest influence on major league baseball of any man in the game's history. This book tells the largely unknown part of that story.

There is a brand new book out on the Continental League by Russell Buhite. It's on my "Must Read" list.

Forever Blue, by Michael D’Antonio, tells the story of why (or perhaps, how) the Dodgers packed up and left Brooklyn for Los Angeles. The Brooklyn Dodgers were as integral part of their community as any baseball team has ever been. The Dodgers provided the borough with a central identity that remains unique among other baseball crazy cities.

After several decades of ineptness, Larry MacPhail came over from the Cincinnati Reds and led the Dodgers to their first World Series in twenty-one years and only the third ever. Branch Rickey succeeded the old redhead and the Dodgers played in six World Series over ten seasons; finally winning their only title in 1955. Then, after the 1957 season, Walter O’Malley ripped the heart out of Brooklyn and moved the team to Los Angeles. It was a radical move that opened up the west coast to major league baseball. Kansas City had been the westernmost team before the Dodgers and Giants arrived in southern California in 1958.

No one denies that Walter O’Malley, who had pushed Rickey out of the ownership picture, was making money from the team. O’Malley was a shrewd operator whose father had been a Tammany Hall official. But Ebbets Field, opened in 1913, was an aging grand dame. Cars had replaced Trolleys (the team’s nickname was shortened from ‘Trolley Dodgers’, referring to the fans who had to avoid being run down at the confluence of trolley tracks outside the stadium) and there was limited parking at the stadium. O’Malley didn’t believe Ebbets Field would be a viable option for his team in the future. He had built a winner: now he wanted a new stadium to play in.

Therein lies the rub: there are two sides to this story. O’Malley wanted the government to acquire land in Brooklyn (at much less cost than he would have to pay privately), whereupon he would fund and build a new stadium. Robert Moses, the most powerful politician in New York City, wanted to use the site for a different purpose. He preferred a site in Flushing Meadows, where Shea Stadium would be built a few years later. O’Malley wasn’t interested.

In their fields, both men largely always got what they wanted. O’Malley had complete control of the Dodger organization and was an influential voice among the owners. Robert Moses was an appointed, not elected official, but he made the decision on highways, bridges and public housing projects. That meant big projects went through him.

Some put the blame on O’Malley, painting him as a greedy millionaire who betrayed a community and stole the Dodgers. Others point the finger at Moses, whose out of control ego wouldn’t let him compromise and forced O’Malley to accept Los Angeles’ offer. The truth probably lies somewhere in between, though the moderate viewpoint seems scarce. This book is very much pro-O’Malley. Which is not surprising, since the author had access to materials in the O’Malley family archives. That’s not to say it’s all wrong. But the reader does come away seeing O’Malley as a businessman, faced with an untenable situation, offering a reasonable solution but being rebuffed by a power mad politico. Essentially, Moses forced him to reluctantly move his asset to California.

Keep in mind this was happening in the mid-fifties and city-team stadium battles hadn’t yet become the norm. This was relatively new territory. Both men used the press and the political process to their advantage. O’Malley threw down the gauntlet when he sold Ebbets Field to a private developer in 1956. The team could stay for a few more years, but there was no doubt a new stadium had to happen. The question became, “Where?” The book indicates that Los Angeles lobbied hard for O’Malley, who consistently put them off, saying he wanted to stay in Brooklyn. But he kept his options open and when he finally accepted that Robert Moses wasn’t going to give in to him, the owner packed up his toys and went to his new home.

All was not easy-peazy for O’Malley once he arrived in LA. The team initially played in cavernous Memorial Coliseum (current home of USC football) and he faced legal challenges that could have left him without a new stadium. Video footage of poor Hispanics being evicted from Chavez Ravine so that O’Malley could have his stadium survives to this day. BTW, this is favorably explained in the book and a good example of the pro-O’Malley view it takes.

One thing I really liked about his book is the look at gives at the pre-O’Malley Dodgers and how he went from a complete outsider to owner. O’Malley and Moses both had it within their power to keep the Dodgers in Brooklyn. But neither chose a path that led there. In 1957, The Kansas City Athletics (once based in Philadelphia, soon to be playing in Oakland) were the farthest west a team had to go. In 2012, there are ten teams further west than KC (home of the Royals). Baseball was changed when the Dodgers and Giants moved west.

The Giants, owned by Horace Stoneham, are an important part of the story. Baseball wanted a second team to move so that the Dodgers would have a geographical rival, as well as giving visiting teams more games when they flew all the way to Los Angeles. However, the book doesn’t give much attention to the Giants: this is the Dodgers’ story.

Forever Blue is a good book. I’d guess that the picture it paints is rather incomplete, really just giving Walter O’Malley’s side of events. But I believe it does tell a significant part of the story and it does convey what an emotional issue it was. I am looking for another book on the subject with a different slant to get a more balanced overall picture of things, but I liked this one.