Ty Cobb wasn't such a bad guy? Cobb was nicer than most people think. He was not the Satan of baseball. He was not, as one historian has described him, the “single black mark” on the game. Cobb was smart, articulate, and socially polished, and he could be charming and winsome. Contrary to his image, he did have friends. Over the years, I've come upon many people who knew Cobb and have wonderful memories of him. He was always extremely competitive, and in his early days he was quick to use his fists. But I can't think of a more maligned figure in baseball history. A fan from his time wouldn't recognize Cobb based on how he's portrayed now. In his day, he was admired and respected, which isn't to say he was an angel. Why did his image change? Much of how we view Cobb was framed by writer Al Stump, who spent several months with Cobb near the end of his life. By that time, Cobb was in the grips of alcoholism and cancer. He was a bitter man who had buried two adult sons. After Cobb died, Stump captured that bitterness in an ugly portrait of him for a 1961 magazine story. Eventually, that story evolved into a book, which spawned the brutal 1994 Cobb movie. It's been all downhill for Cobb since his death. I'm hoping Ty and The Babe helps balance our perception of Cobb. I'm thinking of nicknaming my book tour “The Ty Cobb Redemption, Reformation, and Resurrection Tour.” What about Babe? Babe Ruth's reputation doesn't need any restoration. He remains one of the most popular athletes ever. He was one of a kind, a larger-than-life character whose personality fit the times. No ball player has ever come close to Babe Ruth in fan adoration. He is the baseball equivalent of Santa Claus, a figure of mythical proportions. But Ruth could be difficult and gruff and full of himself. He was suspended several times for bucking authority and misbehaving on the ball field. He was far from a saint. But we willingly overlook his faults because he was the Babe. We baseball fans smile just saying his name. Why did you write Ty and The Babe? Since my baseball-obsessed boyhood in the 1960s and 1970s, I've been fascinated by both Cobb and Ruth. If you grew up loving baseball, you learned about the Georgia Peach and the Babe. They were not only the two greatest ball players of all time, they were two of the most colorful. And their rivalry, pitting the premier Dead Ball player against the revolutionary long-ball hitter, was the stuff of legend. Cobb was the king of the game when Ruth began his ascendancy. He resented Ruth's challenge, and Ruth, in turn, resented the way Cobb treated him. They grew to despise each other and did whatever they could to undermine one another on the field and in the arena of public opinion. It was an amazing, rich relationship, and I wanted to explore it, as well as capture the magical time in American sports history that they occupied. How serious was their rivalry? It was vicious at times. They were at the center of several brawls, though teammates usually separated them before they could land punches. They taunted and ridiculed each other relentlessly, and they tried always to show up one another. After his pitching days were mostly over, Ruth insisted on starting one game just so he could have the satisfaction of striking out Cobb. In a 1924 game, their confrontations exploded on the field, with Ruth accusing Cobb of ordering his pitchers to throw bean balls. The ensuing riot resulted in a forfeit for Cobb's team – and a fine and a police escort for Ruth. Both men played their best when playing against each other. It was no coincidence that Ruth hit more home runs against Cobb's Tigers than any other team – or that Cobb defeated Ruth's Yankees more often than any other manager. For a long while, the two men refused even to talk to each other. But they certainly got the fans and news reporters talking. At the height of their clashes, their teams set attendance records.
|
Newswire 
