The 34-Ton Bat

July 29, 2013
Rushin, a longtime acclaimed writer for Sports Illustrated, chronicles the history of baseball through the items used by players (baseball bats, sanitary socks), enjoyed by fans (beer and hot dogs), and sported by both (baseball caps). A lot of the fun in Rushin’s exhaustively researched, very readable history comes from learning about the people behind the innovations. The Dodgers’ advertising v-p Danny Goodman, who made popular souvenirs such as the bobblehead to baseball, saw the stadium crowd as a captive audience willing to buy anything, from underpants to aprons. Foolproof Taylor spent years unsuccessfully promoting his protective cups and helmets. His sales method? Skeptics would kick Taylor, who thankfully was wearing his fortified handiwork, in the groin or smash him in the head with a bat. Baseball merchandise, which has long been an important part of the game, was until recently generally dismissed by players and sports writers alike. Players once scoffed at sunglasses and baseball gloves, which makes sense considering how many of them endured day games in broiling flannel uniforms. Rushin’s exuberant prose describes the continuous evolution of baseball paraphernalia. 40 b&w photos. Agent: Esther Newberg, ICM.

September 15, 2013
A veteran writer for Sports Illustrated takes us through baseball's odd attic, pointing out and narrating the history of the quotidian and the curious. Few objects escape the notice of Rushin (The Pint Man, 2010, etc.), who invests each not only with the skill of a career sportswriter, but also with the passion of a fan. He begins with some personal history (as a youth he prepared hotdogs at Minnesota Twins' games) and then proceeds to the most significant object: the baseball. He offers some amusing (and even frightening) tales of players trying to catch balls dropped from great heights, as well as the story of Spalding and the slow move by clubs to let fans keep balls hit into the stands. Rushin then moves on to the story of bats, with Louisville sluggers and metal and the threat of the ash-borer all figuring prominently. He describes early spring training sites and then embarks on an enthusiastic history of the glove, noting that a 1938 X-ray of Lou Gehrig's glove hand showed 17 breaks. Next come the uniforms and the slow evolution away from flannel (in which players baked for decades) to double-knit pieces. Rushin also relates the history of the baseball cap, noting how its design has spread around the world. He pauses to chat about eye black, the development of headgear for hitters, cups to protect the family jewels and sufficient urinal space in the ballpark (a necessity, he notes, due to the torrents of beer consumed). Owners offered salty food (to increase beer consumption) and then numerous other gimmicks and novelties to brand fans and make megabucks. The author rounds third with stories about ballpark seating and slides home with a return to his own story--with some comments about the construction of the bases themselves. Not just sportswriting, but also graceful and gripping cultural history.

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Starred review from September 1, 2013
Jimmy and Ralph Buzz Boyle are author Rushin's grandfather and great uncle, respectively. Buzz played three seasons with the Brooklyn Dodgers, while Jimmy got into one game for one inning for the New York Giants. When Rushin, the 2005 National Sportswriter of the Year, inherited Jimmy's glove, a passionate and eclectic exploration of baseball ephemera was launched. Rushin approaches his passion with a mischievous gleam in his eye, a point of view captured perfectly in this anecdote-filled account of the sport's odd corners. He covers the evolution of the baseball glove, from a less-than-manly novelty in the game's earliest days to its current status as standard equipment. We also learn that the first protective baseball headgear was inflatable. The prototype was dismissed more on the basis of vanity than utility: it looked stupid. Male readers will grimace their way through the development of the cup. Lots of painful injuries, especially to catchers, preceded the initial research by a catcher known as Foulproof Taylor. There's a chapter on the rowdy reintroduction of beer to ballparks after Prohibition, and organ music to serenade patrons on their way out of the park after games. Of course, the organ music has given way to prerecorded rock music; reliever Trevor Hoffman began the tradition by having AC/DC's Hells Bells played when he entered a game. In an era of sports literature when societal significance and statistical algorithms aren't always as fun as we'd hoped, Rushin has reintroduced readers to silliness. Read it with a smile.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2013, American Library Association.)