The Mysteries of Pittsburgh…and Other Recurring Problems

by

Pete Croatto

Baseball has featured the World Series since 1903, so not every team is going to be cherished for generations. Unless you grew up in the Steel City or your name is Bill James, it’s likely that the 1971 Pittsburgh Pirates are such a team. Featuring Roberto Clemente, the graceful, aging superstar, they beat a heavily favored Baltimore Orioles squad. Due to necessity or manager Danny Murtaugh’s ingenuity, the team relied heavily on bench players, newcomers, and has-been pitchers. More often than not, they delivered, especially during the pressure of the postseason.

What’s significant about the team is that they were first ever to field an all-black line-up. According to author Bruce Markusen, the 1971 Pirates are The Team that Changed Baseball. That's an intriguing concept, and one that gets buried, leading to a ponderous reading experience. It’s not the first one I’ve had, and I fear it won’t be the last. In fact, the flaws that plague The Team that Changed Baseball are common in other inferior sports books I’ve read.

Too many game summaries: It takes about fifty pages to realize that Markusen isn’t really going to explore the team’s racial dynamics, and that he’s going to bombard us with recaps of games. It kills the book, along with the reader’s enthusiasm. The reasons: First, it’s a terrible replacement for interviews and research. Second, it’s numbing, since there are only so many ways you can describe a baseball game. (I suspect this is why most beat reporters loathe their jobs.) Third, it obliterates a writer’s style. Markusen could be the next Frank Deford but I’ll never know because his efforts are devoted to chronicling all of Willie Stargell’s forty-eight home runs. 

Not enough original reporting: Before I read any nonfiction book, I like to know how many writers the author interviewed. If the number reaches triple digits, I’m really excited because that means the author was determined to find sources, to get new information, to dig up stories we haven’t heard before. Markusen’s grand total of sources for The Team that Changed Baseball? Twelve. Couldn’t a prominent African American sociologist, politician, or historian have commented on the Pirates’ racial harmony? (How did that spread through baseball? Did it?) Couldn'’t Markusen have interviewed Pirates beat writers to gauge how happy everyone was, or talk to opposing players about what made the Pirates such resilient competitors? If we’re not learning anything new, it’s hard to keep reading.

No compelling conflicts: Aside from outfielder (and future batting champion) Al Oliver griping for more playing time and Clemente bitching about his aches and pains, these Pirates were a pretty happy bunch. I was hankering for a clubhouse brawl or a sordid love triangle. Seriously, it’s not so much scandal that I want as much as conflict or urgency. That’s what readers of any genre crave, and Markusen’s book has neither.

Simply put, there’s not enough material for a book: Take away the stultifying game summaries, and you’re left with thin soup. I would read an article on the all-black line-up or how the 1971 Pirates are one of several overlooked classic teams. But do those elements make for a great book? I say no. Devoting a book to a subject does not automatically grant the subject importance.

Books mentioned in this column:
The Team that Changed Baseball: Roberto Clemente and the 1971 Pirates by Bruce Markusen (Westholme Publishing, 2009)

Pete Croatto’s essays, criticism, and humor writing have appeared in MAD, Publishers Weekly, BookPage, and the (Newark) Star-Ledger. He also reviews movies for ICON and FilmCritic.com, and maintains a movie blog. Pete currently lives in central New Jersey with three bookshelves made by his dad and an overused library card. Contact Pete.