Ty Cobb

March 23, 2015
The legendary Tigers outfielder of the early 20th century, who may have been the greatest hitter in baseball history and is often depicted as a violent racist, comes across as less odious and more interesting than his sinister reputation in this energetic biography. Former Sports Illustrated editor Leerhsen (Crazy Good) depicts the Georgia Peach as a two-fisted man of seething ambition, prickly hauteur, and hair-trigger temper who fought just about anyone: opponents, teammates, a disabled heckler in the stand, an elevator boy, and a waitress. Leerhsen cogently argues that stories of his attacks on African-Americans are greatly exaggerated while his occasional statements of racially progressive views are ignored. Leerhsen also dismisses allegations that Cobb gratuitously spiked basemen. This Cobb is no thug but a reflective, well-read baseball intellectual who combined athleticism and strategic cunning into remarkable on-field dynamism, blending superb batting, hell-for-leather base-running—he once stole second, third, and home on three consecutive pitches—and subtle psych-outs that gave opposing teams nervous breakdowns. Leerhsen wraps his penetrating profile of Cobb in gripping play-by-play rundowns and a colorful portrait of the anarchic “dead-ball” era, when players played drunk and fans chased offending umpires from the field. This is a stimulating evocation of baseball’s rambunctious youth and the man who epitomized it. Photos.

April 15, 2015

Tyrus "Ty" Cobb (1886-1961), who spent most of his career with the Detroit Tigers, has long been a divisive character in baseball history, at once known as the greatest hitter who ever put on a pair of spikes and played with ceaseless grit--and also a cantankerous, racist. Leerhsen's (Crazy Good) magisterial reexamination presents a detailed view of Cobb culled from actual research rather than hearsay. While the player was certainly no saint, his often-quarrelsome nature was directed toward all, and the author maintains that Cobb's rural Georgia roots do not presume racist beliefs, as has been said. Thanks to exhaustive research, we now have a more realistic and sympathetic view of Cobb. Leerhsen uses press clippings and first-hand accounts from teammates to reveal that there is little evidence Cobb was a bigot, and his progressive family encouraged education and gentility. As a southerner, Cobb suffered from preconceptions as most players during the 1920s were from the Northeast. Leerhsen places his subject in context, describing the violence and drunkenness exhibited by players, management, and fans of the era. VERDICT This is an important work for baseball and American historians as Cobb was one of the country's first true superstars. How he dealt with fame, a new byproduct of the modern age, serves as a useful social history.--Brian Renvall, Mesalands Community Coll., Tucumcari, NM

Copyright 2015 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

August 1, 2015

The conventional wisdom about Ty Cobb is that he was a vicious baseball player who spiked infielders on purpose, a vicious racist who couldn't be in the same room with a black person, and an all-around vicious human being who died friendless and hated. While never sugarcoating Cobb's enormous temper and willingness to brawl-facts Cobb himself never disputed-Leerhsen's remarkable new biography reaches back to primary documents that stand this wisdom on its head. The grandson of one of the few courageous abolitionist politicians in Georgia, Cobb was among the first to applaud the breaking of the color barrier, and there seems to be no evidence of his racism. The myth of Cobb's supposedly violent play was largely based on a handful of very minor affairs, which all the principals agreed were overblown, coupled with his psychological style, which tended to scare opponents but not hurt them physically. And his legend as a hated man is belied by the fact that he was truly baseball's first superstar, beloved by the nation, and only eclipsed when the lively ball (a style of baseball with an emphasis on home runs) and Babe Ruth supplanted his version of the game. Leerhsen finds that the myth of Cobb was perpetuated almost entirely by a single man, Al Stump, the ghostwriter of an autobiography commissioned by Cobb but never approved by him, as he was too sick to review it. No prior knowledge of Cobb or his myth is necessary to enjoy this book, although it will help. VERDICT This eminently readable biography is a fantastic piece of research and a perfect starting point for teens interested in the early years of baseball.-Mark Flowers, Rio Vista Library, CA

Copyright 2015 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.