My mom grew up loving Ernie Banks. She was a Die Hard Cubs Fan (and had the membership card to prove it), and while she sometimes spoke of Ron Santo, Randy Hundley, Billy Williams, Fergie Jenkins and others, there could be no doubt as to her favorite player. Witness, for example, this framed poster I am keeping in my apartment for the time being.
So for her birthday/Mother's Day (they are generally 1-2 weeks apart) last year, I bought her this book. And in my efforts to support a local bookstore, I discovered there were two Let's Play Two books about Ernie Banks, released about a month apart from one another. That other one was reviewed in short-form and anticipated a first for FH. I am not aware of any other book review platforms publishing dueling reviews of these books. And I am not doing that, because my review of the Doug Wilson Let's Play Two is cursory, at best. And the Rapoport Let's Play Two is, somewhat predictably, more comprehensive and more beautifully-written. Rapoport spent the last few weeks of Ernie Banks's life attempting to begin work on a new autobiography (after Mr. Cub), and this biography is the finished product, five years after the fact. And lately, while I have found many biographies fascinating, these were some of the most engaging 413 pages I have read in any. One could not call them the most revealing 413 pages, but they are as revealing about Banks as any other source, and therein lies its r'aison d'etre: Who was the real Ernie Banks?
Because the only Ernie Banks everyone knew in the world was Mr. Cub. The catchphrases, the ever-present smile, the humble attitude, the unrelenting positivity, the absence of dissent or displeasure. Mr. Cub. Never gets to go to the playoffs. Hall of Fame career but no championships. Just one heart-breaker of a season. But what pain and sadness lived underneath, what struggles did he conceal, what resentments did he harbor? Both Let's Play Two books try to answer this. And because Rapoport no doubt had bountiful resources available to him, as well as close personal relationships with many people in the Chicago sports world, this is the better book. Though Doug Wilson's is shorter, and totally decent, this is more consistently entertaining and engaging. Perhaps one day soon there will be an Ernie Banks biopic, and while both volumes would no doubt prove useful in such a venture, there is little that Wilson uncovers that Rapoport does not (and yes, to be fair, I can't check a copy of the Wilson volume and get specific--but don't challenge me on that until you've read both, too). It would be named to the Best Books list alongside biographies of Raymond Carver and William O. Douglas if the genre was not beginning to subsume it (and this is before reading anything by Robert Caro).
This Let's Play Two opens up with the totally iconic scene of Ernie Banks playing golf with Warren Buffet and Steadman Graham (Oprah's fiancee), along with an Illinois State Senator, on 9/11. They are in Omaha and Air Force One arrives to bring then-President Bush to a secure underground bunker. All the planes are grounded after, so the Senator (William Marovitz) drives back to Chicago with Banks, and Banks opens up to him like he rarely opened up to anyone, an experience so engrossing that Marovitz didn't realize he was driving for seven hours in the wrong direction, passing through most of South Dakota before realizing as much.
Banks was born in Dallas in 1931, the oldest of twelve children in a very poor family. Of special note is that both Essie Banks (Ernie's mother) and O.J. Simpson's mother (Eunice Durden) were first cousins. As a youth, he worked with his father, picking cotton, for 5 or 6 dollars a day. His father, Eddie, had once been a catcher for the Dallas Green Monarchs, a semipro Negro League team, who once caught for Satchel Paige. He made Ernie bat boy one game when he was 8 or 9.
The book then dives away into the history of the surrounding area and the high school Banks attended. Booker T. Washington, which also produced many notable artists. In the summer of 1948--not long after he had started playing more seriously--playing for the Detroit Colts. After another summer, Bill Blair, who had discovered Banks on a local ball-field, referred him to Buck O'Neil, the manager of the Kansas City Monarchs and the first of many legendary figures to appear. Banks began playing for him in 1950.
Banks joined the Cubs in 1953, and the book devotes 42 pages to the years between 1950 and 1953, also touching upon Banks's tenure in the military. These are some of the most charming pages, where he played against teams such as the Indianapolis Clowns, the Birmingham Black Barons, the New York Cubans, and the Chicago American Giants, in the twilight era of the Negro League. After Jackie Robinson moved into the major leagues, attentions shifted.
In 1953, he first played for Phil Cavaretta, then for Stan Hack from 1954-1956. Starting in 1955, he began crushing the ball. He played for Bob Scheffing from 1957-1959, continuing his streak of dominant seasons. In 1960, the Cubs became "experimental" in their managerial hiring process, starting with an older Charlie Grimm, who had managed the team from 1932 to 1949, and who did not last long. Lou Boudreau replaced him after a handful of games. In 1961, they began their "college of coaches" concept, cycling Elvin Tappe, Lou Klein, Vedie Himsl and Harry Craft. The team finished 26 games under .500. Yet they continued this way in 1962, with Tappe and Klein again, and Charlie Metro. And they were even worse, finished 44 games under .500 and in 9th place. Bob Kennedy took over in 1963 and stayed til 1965 when he was replaced mid-season by Lou Klein again.
This roll-call of managers is only undertaken to underscore their relative anonymity in contrast to Leo Durocher, who emerges as one of the liveliest characters in this story. And they were also atrocious in his first year, 1966, once again 44 games under .500. However, things started looking up in 1967 and 1968. Finally, they broke out in 1969 with a 92 win season.
In 1969, Banks was 38 years old, and had been playing for the Cubs for 16 years. His best days were certainly behind him, yet he still made the all-star team and drove in 106 runs. Between the years of 1955 and 1960, Ernie Banks was arguably the most threatening hitter in baseball, particularly in 1958 and 1959, when he was named MVP.
The book, predictably, takes off in discussing the 1969 season, though this is not to say anything about the years of 1953 to 1968 are less interesting. This is mostly because of Durocher. It is difficult to select excerpts from this book but inevitably one must be about Durocher. And even within that subset, it is difficult. For example, the dissection of why Durocher treated Banks as badly as he did begins by acknowledging that Durocher may have just been trying to light a fire under him, because he wasn't like Ron Santo, who became noticeably upset when things didn't go his way. Ultimately, it centers around jealousy, and because of past experience managing Willie Mays. Mays, if anyone, is the counterpart to Banks, in terms of career accomplishments and renown. Hank Aaron is the other, even as his stats tower over theirs. Durocher took credit for the rise of Mays, and building his confidence after a slow rookie start. He treated Banks oppositely, yet it must be noted, they were at entirely different points in their career when he managed them.
Really some account of his outrageous demeanor should be recorded:
"There were times when Durocher's complaints defied belief. In May 1968, reporters were stunned when Durocher pinned a 9-2 loss to the Cardinals at Wrigley Field on the fact that Banks hadn't scored from third base on a ball hit to the infield. 'Banks should have walked home,' Durocher said of a run that would have reduced the margin of defeat from seven runs to six. 'He's been in the league sixteen years, but he just won't get off the bag.' But once again, Banks turned the other cheek. 'Leo's right,' he said. 'Taking the extra lead or the extra base helps the club.'" (245-246)
Around page 260, things start changing for the Cubs in 1967, as they develop what would become a group of core future Hall-of-Famers in Fergie Jenkins, Ron Santo and Billy Williams, along with Banks. The Bleacher Bums are born, and the story of their rise has little to do with Banks, but is one of the welcome surprises of this book. Chapter 26, devoted to them, is definitely a highlight.
Chapter 29 deals with the 1969 season and the team's infamous downfall in the last month of the season, to the lowly New York Mets. It should be noted that, among Rapoport's many gifts, is a knack for the incisive detail from a game that is otherwise lost to history. In his recitations of the minutiae of each crucial game, they are further etched into history, and the drama these moments create in the lives of the players are felt more all the more deeply. Witness the turning point that marks the beginning of the end of that year:
"The Cubs were in a foul mood when they arrived in New York for games on September 7 and 8. They had just lost three games at home to the Pirates and were still replaying the last one in their minds. They had been one strike away from victory after a two-run homer by Hickman in the eighth inning when Willie Stargell hit a home run off Regan* that tied the score. And when Kessinger, who earlier in the season had set a record for shortstops with fifty-four errorless games, booted a ball in the eleventh, the Pirates were on their way to a 7-5 victory. 'To me,' Santo said, 'that was the turning point.'" (314)
AND HERE IS THE TURNING POINT OF THE REVIEW
[Yesterday, 7/14/20, I completed this review. Then, because I had taken a picture with my phone of the poster in my dining room, and updated the blog post from my phone. I felt I had published it, but perhaps I had just saved it. Regardless, this morning, I planned to publicize it on Facebook/Twitter. I tried to close the web page on my chromebook, and it warned me that I would lose all the changes I had saved. I thought, no way! I saved it from my phone earlier. And none of those changes were showing up on my chromebook version and I didn't want to have to re-do it. But apparently, yes, even though I saved it with all the finishing touches, the world prefers that I lose them, and waste 1-2 hours of my life, and appear even more amateurish. It makes me so angry that I will not re-do. This is not the first time this has happened. This is probably the forth of fifth time (somehow, with Buddenbrooks, way back in 2008, I wrote 2 different reviews) this has happened. And I just do not have the patience at the moment to make it as perfect as I did yesterday. I just can't. The internet has made writing an even more stressful endeavor.]
The first thing I included was an analysis of when my mom must have sent a letter to Leo Durocher, threatening to categorically reject the team if Ernie Banks was not taken off the bench. I had included several different paragraphs to provide additional context. I can be quick about this and cut a lot:
"Durocher responded by benching Banks for a week, leading one Chicago columnist to say the manager was vying for the title of most unpopular man in Chicago. Durocher was so determined to denigrate Banks that in a series in Atlanta he used reserves Jimmy Stewart and Marty Keough, who were hitting .153 and .069 respectively, as pinch hitters while Banks, who had a nine-game hitting streak, sat on the bench." (245)
I had a great second asterisk about Jim Bullinger. A quote about Ernie Banks trying to marry everyone off, including Mark Grace and Dennis Rodman, and presuming that Patrick Kane had a wife. And then about how he shouldn't be one to talk, as a four-time husband.
Finally there was a long quote about Joe Pepitone, a fan-favorite in 1970, who I could only think of as the Nick Castellanos of his time.
Also something about the Presidential Medal of Freedom ceremony in 2013, and the absence of family attending. "It was as if he was proclaiming on a national stage that he was alone in the world." (396)
There is great historical value in this book, and it is not a bad blueprint to follow if one hopes to play in the MLB, though obviously things are quite different nowadays. Many would do well to follow the example set by Banks, even though the culture of today urges us to "make it okay to talk about mental illness." Sometimes it is better to simply keep one's mouth shut, and not try to update a blog, where little good may come of it. Better to smile, for it is July 15, and another beautiful day, and the MLB will returrn in 9 days for the strangest season in almost 150 years.
Grade: A
*Phil Regan appears as a minor character in this book several times, most prominently as a member of the 1969 Cubs. There is a reference to his work as a pitching coach later in his career, but the book does not divulge that Regan, in 2019, fifty years later, was still a pitching coach. And actually, was the head pitching coach of the Mets, as an 82-year-old. So he could actually compare Fergie Jenkins to Jacob DeGrom, and that is pretty remarkable.
** (note) References previously made to trying to set up Mark Grace, Jim Bullinger and Rick Wilkins, led me to make reference to Bullinger's (reliever/starting pitcher) first-career at bat home run, and Jose Guzman's 26-out no-hitter, both of which took place in 1992 and 1993. Which is when I became a Die Hard Cubs fan.
