Wrigleyville
by Peter Golenbock
St. Martin's Press, 1996

You don't have to be a Cub fan to enjoy Wrigleyville, a self-proclaimed magical history tour of the Chicago Cubs. After all, you don't need to be a Cub fan to enjoy the friendly confines of Wrigley Field.

Chicago baseball history begins with the two men who founded the National League. Both grew up in Chicago. One of those men, A.G. Spalding, moved away for a while to play ball for Harry Wright, the manager of the first professional baseball team, the Cincinnati Red Stockings.

If you believe Peter Golenbock, Al Spalding was the brains behind the birth of the National League. To protect his professional reputation, Spalding convinced William Hulbert to run the Chicago franchise and preside over the National League.

The problem with accepting Golenback's conclusions is that he has a reputation for being very loose with his facts. Golenbock isn't a baseball historian and he's not an expert on the Cubs.

Golenbock seems to be right about the genesis of the National League. Hulbert didn't have much of an entrepreneurial mind, while Spalding quickly shifted from player/manager to Cub owner, to the president of the National League, until he gave up his baseball responsibilities to run his successful Sporting Goods operation.

Sometimes Golenbock appears confused. In one case, Golenbock refers to Frank Schultz. A few pages later, he refers to Wildfire Schultz. A reader might not know that both players were the same person. After rereading Golenbock's passages, I wasn't sure that he knew both guys were the same person.

In another passage, Golenbock refers to the combatative Arlie Latham without mentioning his famous nickname, "The Freshest Man Alive." The nickname would have helped tell the story.

These small misunderstandings mushroom into a cloud later in the book when Golenbock describes "the called shot." Don't focus on Golenbock's mistakes unless you're going to a SABR convention. Allow Golenbock to entertain you with his ability to deliver stories in a cohesive manner. Golenback interviews subjects and takes excerpts from autobiographies to explain the story. At times, Golenbock will interject commentary to correct the respondent, or to explain a subject that the respondent didn't understand. The problem is that Golenbock doesn't always insert the appropriate commentary. He can easily mislead the reader.

Don't get discouraged if you find the first part of the book awkward. The Cubs were a powerhouse from 1870-1910, but the reporters and the writers of those times weren't as advanced in writing with clarity & style as today's authors. It's a perennial problem for authors who insist on using oral history to tell stories from the 19th century.

You'll find other baseball books that discuss the Cubs of Tinkers, Evers and Chance. Golenbock reviews these Cub teams through interesting and unfamiliar angles. For instance, one might be surprised to learn of the strong connection that these Cub teams had with Kansas City. The Cubs hired Frank Selee around the turn of the century. Selee had already led the Boston Beaneaters to several American League pennants in the previous decade. Selee plucked Joe Tinker and Johnny Kling - among others - from semi-pro leagues around Kansas City to stock his Cubs. Tinker is now in the Hall of Fame, Selee was just elected, and it's only a matter of time before the Veteran's Committee elects Johnny Kling. He's one of the best defensive catchers in the history of the game. Kling was often credited for molding the outstanding Cub pitching staff in the first decade of the 20th century. After all, they elected Vic Willis and Orlando Cepeda.

Everyone knows about Merkle's boner, but Golenbock sets up the scene by discussing the Warren Giles affair in Pittsburgh a few weeks earlier. Giles was on first base when a teammate singled the winning run home in the bottom of the ninth inning. Evers claimed that Giles had failed to touch second base. According to the rules, Giles should have been called out, but umpires had not traditionally paid attention to the finer points of the game. Crew Chief Hank O'Day had no choice but to rule Giles safe on that day in Pittsburgh. Still, O'Day also knew that he had to be more vigilant in enforcing the rules. That's why Merkle and the Giants were called out a few weeks later in Coogan's Bluff.

Isn't it fitting that the most exciting Cubs teams were during the Depression? The Cubs featured the notorious low-ball hitter and high-ball drinking Hack Wilson. One of their ace pitchers was called Whiskeyface Malone. A jilted showgirl shot their starting shortstop, Billy Jurges, in a hotel room on a road trip. Woody English tried to explain that the Cubs of the 1930s weren't as rugged as they had been portrayed, but these players weren't choirboys.

Babe Ruth called his home run against the Cubs in the 1932 World Series. Wrigleyville debunks the "called shot" theory. Charlie Root went to his grave denying that Ruth had ever showed him up. Many of his teammates agreed. However, Root's catcher, Gabby Hartnett, thought the Babe did point. Lou Gehrig also saw Ruth point.

In 1992, a Cub fan unearthed a home video taken by his father at the 1932 World Series. The video showed Ruth pointing 4 times, including two distinct gestures prior to the pitch. The Sporting News ran these pictures in an issue later that year.

Ruth may or may not have pointed. Nobody really knows. Golenbock too easily dismisses one of baseball's most interesting tales.

Since Gabby Hartnett cracked his famous Homer in the Gloamin' in 1938, the Cubs had only won one other National league pennant. They won that in 1945, on the shoulders of Philli-Buck Cavaretta and Hank Borowy. Most able-bodied ballplayers were finishing their military obligations when the Cubs won their last pennant.

The Cubs had such a long string of failures after Phil Wrigley died. His son, P.K. Wrigley, was willed the chewing gum business and the Cubs. People intimidated Wrigley; he had no close friends. Though he was an astute businessman who could influence people, P.K. was fascinated by things.

Wrigley was the first owner who tried to sell baseball fans his ballpark. Baseball advertising was primarily limited to ads featuring each team's star players. Wrigley gentrified his ballpark before the practice came in vogue, and fans flocked to see the park. He trained his broadcasters to always refer to the ballpark as "Beautiful Wrigley Field."

While cultivating a beautiful ballpark to attract fans was a tremendous idea, Wrigley specialized in hare-brained ideas. One of Wrigley's worst ideas was the Cub's cardinal of coaches combine in the early sixties. Wrigley reasoned that a group of coaches could rotate as managers, and the team would be able to take the strengths of each coach to improve as a whole. Though no serious baseball people actually agree with such an approach, Wrigley compounded his probability for failure by stocking his combine with Charlie Metro, Harry Craft, Vedie Hemsl, Elvin Tappe, and Lou Klien.

If you're a Cub fan, get the book. If you're a baseball fan, read the book. You won't be disappointed.

Wrigleyville may be available for purchase on the net at one of these sites.

--Royal Rooter, March 11, 1999

© 1999 Rob Homa