Jerome Holtzman On Baseball

Baseball writers, especially those at daily newspapers, are a group that receives a lot of criticism here at BTF, whether it is for airing grudges, unfounded opinions, dinosaurism or other crimes.

Though he has been out of the position of columnist for a handful of years, Jerome Holtzman still remains my favorite because he managed to largely avoid these traits throughout his 50-plus year career.  At 79, the former beat writer and columnist for Chicago’s Sun-Times and Tribune steps up to the plate to present the story of his craft in On Baseball: A History of Baseball Scribes (Sports Publishing, $24.95 hardcover).

Those familiar with Holtzman will recognize and enjoy his direct style of writing.  He rarely uses superlatives or hyperbole to dress up the copy, instead opting to let the stories tell themselves.  While he mentions his favorite writers, players and managers, he does not place them on a pedestal nor admonish those who don’t possess the same qualities.  If there was a knock on Holtzman as a columnist, it was that he was too player-friendly, but the reluctance to pass judgment pays off in this book, where there is not necessarily a right or wrong.

As you may expect from baseball’s official historian, the history sections of the book are deep and rife with stories.  Holzman dictates the development of the various schools of sportswriting such as the “Purple Prose Gang” (Grantland Rice, Ring Lardner), the “Aw Nuts” (Westbrook Pegler), and the “Gee Whiz” (Paul Gallico).  He cites the impact of African-Americans and women who broke down barriers, editors who changed the way the game was covered, and as always, the text is punctuated with tales of press box camaraderie and clubhouse conflicts. 

However, On Baseball has a number of limitations and a few gaffes that make it far from a perfect read.  Organization became a problem in certain sections.  In the chapter detailing the complicated relation between players, managers and reporters, Holtzman wanders.  After describing the importance of the manager for the beat writer, he describes his experience with the ill-fated “college of coaches” experiment with the 1961-62 Chicago Cubs teams, but the chapter becomes unglued thereafter, becoming a collection of anecdotes instead of a cohesive recollection.  While some of the stories are gems, I found myself thumbing to the end of the chapter to see if he returned to discussing the relationship between those who play the game and those who cover it, which he didn’t.  To his credit, he does expound on the “uneasy alliance” later on.

Additionally, the chapter that details the ridding of the reserve clause and the escalation of player salaries early in the book follows the section on John Kieran, the Renaissance man who happened to be a sportswriter.  Holtzman then returns to talking about writers, creating confusion about the direction of the book not too long after it begins.  When he does stay on target, there is a lot to be learned (the section on the formation of the Baseball Writers Association of America is an excellent read).

Holtzman chronicles the development of baseball writers mostly up to the 1970s, which is not recent enough to explain the transformation of the sportswriter who remained a third-party observer into the one who throws himself into the middle of controversy.  While Holtzman may be too firmly rooted in tradition to take on the subject of writers-turned-TV-stars, more material could have been dedicated to the writers of the 1980s, such as the Los Angeles Times’ legend Jim Murray, who is mentioned only on the first page of the book.

A few inaccuracies also blighted the text; two were so obvious it could create concern that more unfamiliar ground Holtzman covers could also contain numerous errors.  For example, Holtzman writes that Billy Pierce won 15 fewer games than Whitey Ford (the difference is 25—Ford won 236 games, Pierce 211).  Ten pages later, he notes that Alex Rodriguez holds the record for annual salary at $225,000 when the number is actually $22.5 million.  For sticklers, mistakes like these could derail the entire book.

(Also, readers unhappy with Mitch Albom’s fabrication during this year’s Final Four may be displeased with Holtzman’s matter-of-fact admittance of making up some items during his time as beat writer, such as make-believe conversations between a pitcher and manager during a mound conference.  Holtzman describes it as “harmless fluff,” but some may believe otherwise.  The book was released in March, preceding the Albom incident.)

Despite the book’s shortcomings, Holtzman’s modesty makes up for some of it, and helps the book to gain steam in the second half.  Somebody who has seen as much as he has (and developed a stat that changed the game) has plenty of room to throw his weight around, but Holtzman downplays his impact, instead saving the spotlight for others (statisticians included) to whom he says sportswriters are greatly indebted.  He devotes entire chapters to baseball books, writers and publications that have changed the course of sportswriting, or merely his life, writing with such passion that it creates the desire to raid every used and out-of-print bookstore in the region. 

The final chapter is arguably the highlight of the book, as he wraps up the book with stories and bits of information he couldn’t print at the time.  Not to give too much away, but it starts out with an anecdote revealing Lefty Gomez’s considerable endowment.

Those expecting On Baseball to be as thorough as a textbook will be disappointed, as will those wanting to read a memoir.  The book darts back and forth between the two and its ambiguous identity can be as frustrating as it is fulfilling.  This won’t be considered Holtzman’s definitive book - “No Cheering in the Press Box” and “Jerome Holtzman’s Baseball Reader” remain better starting points - but his incredible amount of knowledge and his knack for storytelling make this book worth a look. Its fast pace makes it a low-risk expenditure at worst, but On Baseball will likely leave readers wanting more, not only because it is hard to get enough of Holtzman’s stories, but because some parts feel like they are missing something.