A Promise Kept
I did it! I finally got around to doing something that I had promised to do way back in October! (Sound of me triumphantly slapping myself on the back…).
Technically, I had taken care of the first, and some might argue, the most important part back in December, when I got on Amazon and ordered copies of my friend Del Leonard Jones’ books, “The Cremation of Sam McGee” and “At the Bat: The Strikeout that Shamed America” as some last-minute Christmas gifts for my family.
But it wasn’t until this past weekend that I finally got around to the main event, when I followed through on my promise to read Del’s book, one of my New Year’s resolutions that, against all odds, stubbornly outlasted (hint of sarcasm) January’s snow, February’s bitter cold, and the first spring thaw to stretch all the way into the last week of March, the waning days of the end of Q1, which I say still qualifies as the “new” part of the year (I say resolution, you say procrastination--potato, potahto. Tomato, tomahto—the differences are so minute, it’s really not worth arguing over…)
Chinese & Beer
To the casual observer, my connection to the author Del Leonard Jones may seem as odd as the combination of Chinese food and beer, or as unlikely a pairing as the fictional friendship between Judge Gold and Walter Brewster, two of the main characters in his historic novel “At the Bat: The Strikeout that Shamed America.”
I was introduced to Del last October, when I had reached out to him after he had commented on the first installment in our special Spooktober blog series that had been shared through LinkedIn.
Del and I have never actually met in person. In fact, until recently, we hadn’t even had the chance to speak on the phone. But after exchanging those first few LinkedIn messages and checking out the link to Robert W. Service’s epic poem, “The Cremation of Sam McGee” that he had shared with me, we instantly bonded, partly because of our love of great literature, but mostly our appreciation for the true art of storytelling.
Now, I always tell people that I don’t consider myself a good writer, that I think of myself as a storyteller, and I just write the way I would tell a story. Del on the other hand is the complete package, the real deal—not only is he an accomplished writer and author, he is a phenomenal storyteller who has unequivocally mastered his craft, it shines through in every carefully constructed phrase, each exhaustively researched detail, that when expertly stitched together, transforms his unique brand of literature into something much, much more, a living, breathing work of art.
The Mighty Casey
While I am just as excited to check out his flagship historical novel, “The Cremation of Sam McGee,” which again, is based on Robert W. Service’s poem of the same name, I instead elected to start with Del’s book, “At the Bat: The Strikeout that Shamed America” which he based on another legendary poem, Ernest Thayer’s classic “Casey at the Bat.”
Being the fanatical baseball enthusiast that I am, I was of course very familiar with the Ernest Thayer poem that served as the inspiration for Del’s book. I had thought the subject of the poem, Casey, and the team that he played for, The Mudville Niners to just be some bigger than life mythical ballplayer on your prototypical early professional baseball club from some romanticized version of fill-in-the-blank town in 19-century Americana. And for the most part, I was right.
What I hadn’t anticipated, after downloading the audio book version of Del’s “At the Bat” title and binge listening to the entire thing over the course of two days, was the extent to which I would be caught off guard, second guessing, as I kept finding myself questioning how much of Del’s story is based on fact, and how much of it is just well disguised fiction.
To use a movie analogy, Del’s novel, “At the Bat: The Strikeout that Shamed America” is like The Natural meets Forrest Gump meets Time Traveler’s Wife. And because of a few stereotypical, rather vulgar, heated discussions at home plate about the male anatomy, you could also throw a reference to Bull Durham in there for good measure.
At least two of Del’s main characters in the story, Walter Brewster and Casey himself, are for all intents and purposes fictional people, that much I was relatively certain of. However, as the story progressed, new information was presented that forced me to do an about-face and change my initial instincts about other prominent characters like Grasshopper Nova, who we learn is actually Fleetwood Walker, a real-life person, and Judge Gold, who turns out to be Dick Higham, the only umpire in baseball history to ever be banned from the sport. But what ultimately makes Del’s unique brand of story-telling work so well, is how he is able to effortlessly blend fact and fiction. All of these characters are surgically inserted into the storyline and juxtaposed against actual historic figures and events from that era, for example, the famous reporter and explorer Nellie Bly, newspaper publishers Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst, the author Jules Verne—and when you sprinkle in enough baseball history, some random reference to Benjamin Shibe, a cleverly placed piece of foreshadowing to Walter O’Malley’s eventual decision to move the Brooklyn Trolley Dodgers to California, and the alleged scandal involving the aforementioned Dick Higham’s (A.K.A. Judge Gold’s) connections to the real-life Detroit Wolverines baseball club, you can’t help but wonder what parts are real, and which parts are made up.
Del does a wonderful job of establishing his story as an authentic period piece, chalked full of believable dialogue, traditions, and scenes typical for the times.
For us baseball junkies, terms like coachers, endings, sand bags, and bleaching boards magically transport the reader back to a bygone era, a chapter of the sport that has long since closed, but will never be forgotten, thanks to the work of authors like Del who serve dual-purposes as important custodians of our sacred, early baseball history.
Much of the story takes place back when knocking the cover off the ball wasn’t just an exaggerated way to cheer on the guy stepping into the batter’s box, it was literally something that happened on a regular basis, when the same baseball would be used throughout play and would be beaten into mush by the late innings.
While it centers on the events of 1888, specifically Casey’s famous (or infamous) at bat, Del ingeniously jumps back and forth on a timeline that goes back as early as the Civil War, and all the way up through the 1950’s, even including a single 2017 entry from a distant relative of one of the main characters to add a little bit of intrigue, and help to tie up some loose ends.
As I read on, I was also taken back by all of the similarities between the late nineteenth century Americana depicted by Del in his story, and its distant, modern-day relative, our 2021 America. There were references to the Influenza Pandemic, a main character with an opioid addiction, and another one who was most definitely on the autism spectrum.
And throughout the story, which again, roughly spans the time period from Post Civil War reconstruction to Jackie Robinson’s breaking of the MLB color barrier, there are the all too familiar examples of racism, bigotry, violence, and oppression.
It is oftentimes a disturbing look back at our shameful past, and in the midst of the current social justice movement, an uncomfortable, but necessary reminder that we maybe haven’t come as far along as we might think.
And it wouldn't be baseball, if there weren't a bunch of lame (and incidentally, completely non-PC in today's day-and-age)blind jokes being made at the expense of the poor umpires, which is ironic considering our main character Walter takes such a brutal beating during one altercation late in the game that he can barely see out of his one eye, prompting him to deliriously declare, "Here I am, the one-eyed king in the kingdom of the blind." (I'm going to have to steal that line from you Del, and perhaps use it for my next Accessiversity promotional t-shirt!).
The unpredictable, endearing, and ultimately tragic journeys taken by each of the main characters elicits a certain type of sadness that is made more profound when viewed in the long shadows cast by the glow of their distant accomplishments, their lost hopes and dreams. It’s only fitting that this story is about the valiant hero who isn’t able to save the day, who instead strikes out.
My thanks again to my friend Del, I am glad you reached out on LinkedIn when you did, and that we have been able to form this long-distance, virtual friendship despite all of the challenges of keeping connected during a global pandemic.
For everyone else, I would highly recommend this book, especially for you fellow baseball enthusiasts out there, or really just about anyone who is a fan of historical novels.
Again, just a warning that there is offensive and profane language used throughout, as well as some mature content and adult situations that might not be appropriate for younger readers, so discretion is advised.
About the Author
Del Leonard Jones wrote the historical novel, The Cremation of Sam McGee built upon the poetry of Robert W. Service. The novel is set in the 1898 heyday of yellow journalism and travels from Plumtree to Cuba to the Yukon. The narrator is a fabricating newspaper reporter working for William Randolph Hearst during the Spanish-American War and Gold Rush.
Jones most recent novel, At The Bat: The Strikeout That Shamed America is a sweeping historical novel set in the 1888 dawn of professional baseball when Blacks were first banned, umpires were routinely beaten, and the game shifted from a collegial pastime of gentlemen to a nasty fight to the death by gritty Irish immigrants. The novel is based on the ballad Casey At The Bat.
Jones has also edited Advice from the Top: 1001 Bits of Business Wisdom. The book focuses on the leadership advice of Fortune 500 CEO's such as Fred Smith of FedEx, but also gets advice from athletes, coaches, entertainers such as Mandel and artists like Wynton Marsalis.