Customer Reviews

Ghosts in the Gallery at Cooperstown: Sixteen Forgotten Members of the Hall of Fame

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David Fleitz bashes another triple off the wall with Ghosts in the Gallery at Cooperstown. The gifted biographer of Joe Jackson and Lou Sockalexis strikes again with portraits of sixteen old-time Cooperstown inductees, ten of whom spent a good deal of their career in the Deadball Era. Presented in order of Hall admission, Fleitz gives us clear, elegant, and entertaining biographies of players who have never received such extended treatment before. It also discusses their Hall of Fame selections, interspersing succinct history lessons: pages 170-171 unfold the story of the Players League, and on page 152 the eccentricities of Cooperstown enshrinement are exposed in one striking example.

About three or four times longer than the bios in Deadball Stars of the National League, the bios in this book are a great supplement to the DEC project, expanding the players' stories before and beyond the Deadball Era and covering tidbits not found in our committee's work (while our bios have things not found in Fleitz). For instance, Fleitz tells us of "Gumshoe" Roger Bresnahan's employment as a hotel detective, but doesn't name Red Dooin as one of the inspirers of Bresnahan's more famous shin guards, and lacks the quotations on his relationship with Helene Britton. Until we actually go source-by-source, compiling all mentions of all the players (Just how many fights was The Duke of Tralee a party to anyway? Was it more or less than Dan McGann? And what about Buck Herzog?), this is the best kind of material we will have. The BioProject committee is, of course, ably addressing this issue as well.

In these well-researched bios, we get the expected and unexpected all wrapped in one. Morgan Bulkeley, "Crowbar Governor" of CT and member of the Senate and Spalding's Mills Commission; curver Candy Cummings; spitting Jack Chesbro; the mellowing of Jesse Burkett; SPEBSQSA member Kid Nichols; Bobby Wallace's pitching style (!) and fielding prowess; John Clarkson and Jake Beckley, traitors to the Players League cause; Elmer Flick's home run champ cup and touching reaction to his Hall admission; Eppa Rixey's home runs; a tribute to Roger Connor, the adored Giant slugger who perfected the "come-up" (pop-up) slide; Vic Willis's post-baseball life; Willie Wells in and on Mexico; Frank Selee building his Cubs; and the legendary Bid McPhee hired as Cincinnati manager to unwittingly serve as a pleasant front to owner John "Tooth" Brush, who was less concerned with stocking the Reds with good players than making sure Christy Mathewson was pitching for the Giants, who Brush was working on purchasing.

Details on pitcher deliveries seem to be this Fleitz's specialty, peaking with my pick of the litter, his work on Candy Cummings. Fleitz details how Candy developed as a pitcher and early diamond star, addressing the controversy of who was the first curveballer evenhandedly (as the author does with all such issues throughout the book). This is capped with Cummings telling us how he would pitch to Babe Ruth. This bio and those of Roger Connor were perhaps the most fascinating to me, partly because I was not as familiar with them as I was with most of the others, and because Fleitz seems to capture their exploits and personas so well, to have an affection for them.

The underlying thread of the book is the history of the Hall of Fame and its selection process. At the close of each bio, Fleitz analyzes each member's credentials, how he came to be elected, in nearly every case giving a spot on summary and conclusion of why this person ascended to Cooperstown. What do we learn about Bobby Wallace in a typical baseball history book? That he was a shortstop, a Brown (maybe a Spider), was popular, a good fielder, and is a marginal Hall of Famer--not much else. But after reading Fleitz we understand better why Bobby Wallace was one of the highest-paid players of his time (for a time), was sought after in trades (by Pittsburgh owner Barney Dreyfuss of all people), and is a solid Hall of Famer, the Ozzie Smith of his time, if we must compare him to someone.

The book's only real weakness is in the statistical analysis Fleitz uses to evaluate some of the Hall's selections. Stats like "number of games over .500" to rate pitchers and such hold little water today. (Heck, the idea of valuing pitcher wins and losses has lost hold in most stats circles). Given that the sorts of stats that Fleitz usually discusses are the ones that likely influenced the Hall of Fame voters, though, his discussions can be viewed as historical baseball analysis, and not a flaw. If it is still a sticking point for some, it is a small problem, easily solved via many other sources. We're not reading the book for stat analysis anyway.

Ghosts in the Gallery is a real gem for those interested in ballplayer bios. It has the feel of a small book, not a monumental history or groundbreaking polemic, but a valuable book nonetheless. It's a well-written, well-edited book to boot. If you still thirst for player bios after reading Deadball Stars of the National League, and if you're interested in a few of these subjects, be sure to pick it up--you'll soon find that you're interested in everyone featured. And it never hurts for a Deadballer to be better acquainted with the nineteenth-century forebears of the era, nor the trials and triumphs of the Negro Leaguers.

Very good book filling in the gaps of those men who are in the Hall of Fame and no one knows who they are or why they are there. For you baseball historians you need this book to fill out your knowledge. The bad news is that there are more than 16 that Mr Fleitz could write about. How about a Volume 2 and Volume 3?

Sometimes these kind of books can really be interesting. This was not one of those books. Overpriced.