"I don't read many thruths in the paper. Then again, I haven't read the papers. But I hear about it. It would scare me to read the paper. I didn't know I had enough time to do the things I'm supposed to be doing… But you can't put much stock in papers. They only cost 50 cents."
Just a few days ago, I overheard two fans discussing the 1919 World
Series at a baseball game. The fact that they were discussing a World
Series from 87 years ago shows how famous it was; after all, no one
discusses the 1920 World Series. They were talking about the
movie “Eight Men Out,” as if that movie defined the Black
Sox scandal. Indeed, most of what most people know about the 1919
World Series comes from the movie or the book of that title.
Enter Gene Carney. Carney’s book Burying
the Black Sox: How Baseball's Cover-up of the 1919 World Series Fix Almost
Succeeded, overcomes many myths and oversimplifications engendered by Eliot
Asinof’s book, Eight Men Out. He does so by using new research
material such as trial transcripts, player testimonies, and diaries that
have surfaced since Eight Men Out was published in 1963.
Consequently, Carney’s book reads like revisionist history: part
narrative, part analysis, and part editor’s notes. The style allows him
to go through the story like a detective, assiduously examining each
account and each piece of conventional wisdom.
As an example of the careful scrutiny to which Carney subjects Asinof’s
work, he points out that Eight Men Out suggests that Eddie
Cicotte’s motive for accepting a bribe to throw the World Series was
founded in his desire for revenge. Supposedly, Cicotte wanted revenge
because he was cheated out of a promised $10,000 bonus when White Sox
owner Charles
Comiskey ordered Cicotte benched to avoid having to pay the bonus for
winning 30 games in 1917. There are several problems with this story,
Carney says. First, the movie shifts the 1917 bonus to 1919. Second,
Cicotte actually had numerous chances to win 30 games in 1917; he never
missed a start, and he appeared in relief in between starts as well.
Third, the American League did
not even keep official won-lost records until after the 1919
season, and it was common for newspapers to estimate a pitcher’s
wins. Fourth, Cicotte was rested for two weeks in 1919 when he won 29
games, but there are numerous contemporary reports confirming that Cicotte
had a sore arm; there are none that he was being held out of the rotation
against his or his manager’s will. Finally, Carney refers to Cicotte’s
“transaction card,” which was a summary of a player’s yearly
contracts that Major League baseball
kept on every player; the card does not mention a bonus. This evidence
indicates that the movie’s portrayal of Cicotte’s bonus is a
fabrication. To his credit, Carney does not suggest that Asinof invented
the story; he says that in all probability Cicotte told Asinof the story,
but Asinof “never checked it out.”
Landis
Judge Landis
(pictured) had no trouble throwing Joe
Jackson and 7 others out of baseball for
their roles in the Black Sox scandal. But he
made no effort to punish good friend Charlie
Comiskey. Photo by George Grantham Bain
(colorized by Patrick Mondout).
Carney’s second purpose is to tell the story of the fix’s cover up.
While the theme runs throughout the book, the third chapter is dedicated
to that topic. When you finish with Carney’s work, you can’t help but
agree with the implication behind Marvin
Miller’s rhetorical question (that Carney cites): “I’ve always
maintained that the question ‘Why isn’t Shoeless Joe in the Hall of
Fame?’ should be supplemented with ‘Why isn’t Charles Comiskey out?’”
Carney shows that Comiskey had plentiful information even before the
Series started that it was fixed, that he demonstrated genuine concern
over the issue, and that by the time the Series ended he was as certain as
anyone could be that it was fixed, yet he ignored that information in
hopes that the scandal would blow over and he could protect his
investment. Indeed, Carney shows that Comiskey lied under oath about his
knowledge of the fix. It is an excellent chapter that pulls together
research from many quarters and reaches reasonable conclusions.
Carney’s book is carefully researched and well documented; he
probably knows more about the 1919 World Series than anyone. It succeeds
in correcting myths long believed by writers and fans who have too
casually accepted uncorroborated accounts of the 1919 World Series’ many
tangled events. It does not—to its credit—tell a simple tale. Instead,
it draws as many conclusions as the evidence allows and makes no attempt
to win readership through hyperbole; if we don’t know the answer, Carney
says so.
The book, however, is not a casual baseball book. While you can read it
as the story of the 1919 World Series, you will get more out of it if you
know the story already. While the prose is occasionally awkward and the
ten pages in imitation of Abbott
and Costello are gratuitous, it is an excellent piece of scholarship
that serious baseball readers will truly enjoy.
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