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Why? Easy enough--Bill loved baseball, so much so that he never sat in fancy box seats at games but preferred to join the fans in the bleachers. He is hilarious, as in sidesplitting; he has many stories to tell about the funnier incidents he's been involved in. And when you run a team Veeck style, you have a lot of funny incidents.
But the book is not just a compilation of Veeck buffoonery; he has strong feelings on many topics and expresses them with clarity and frankness. There are tributes to magnificent performances and courageous actions throughout the book. When you finish it, if you love the game, you wish only that you could have been an office staff person or groundskeeper following Bill through his career. You could never possibly have been bored (or made much money).
This book is in the class of _Ball Four_--a defining work that gives real insight into real baseball. To read it is to delight in the game.
As a partner, enough credit is not given Ed Linn. I don't know how Ed does it, but any book written with him will be entertaining, well written, and will above all preserve the main figure's personal style. I believe it is Ed's talent that takes the reminisces of sports figures and makes them a good read, and this deserves your appreciation and respect.
Bill Veeck you know from reputation -- the wacky promoter who invented everything from Ladies' Day to Disco Demolition Night. The man owned several baseball franchises (including the Chicago White Sox twice, for some reason), and was known as a both a promotional genius and a shrewd financier.
As for Ed Linn... well, Linn was also the ghostwriter for another fantastic, edgy, opinionated baseball book, Leo Durocher's "Nice Guys Finish Last". Not surprisingly, "Veeck" reads a lot like the Durocher tome (and it came first, too!). On every page here you'll find a funny anecdote, a scary bit of prescience, and a unique look at an otherwise-beloved icon. With Veeck's memory and Linn's acid pen, this book is quite hard to put down. Or to pick up, for that matter.
Sports bios tend to hold back these days, let's face it. They're not as long and not as insightful as the Linn books. And the gift of time has helped ripen these pages. When Veeck talks about baseball's financial need to institute interleague play -- writing from 1961 -- you know this man saw around a few decades' worth of corners. When he takes the Yankees to task for failing to capitalize on Roger Maris's pursuit of the Babe Ruth home run record, and notes that it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, he's right -- so baseball got it right in '98, when McGwire came to town, and when the record fell yet again in '01, hardly anyone noticed.
In the meantime you'll laugh at the sad fates of Bobo Holloman and Frank Saucier, the latter being the only ballplayer ever to be removed from a game for a midget. You'll be intrigued by Veeck's take on Larry Doby, and by his bitter retorts at Del Webb, then-owner of the hated behemoth Yankees. And you'll marvel at just how little has really changed in baseball since Veeck was retired. Owners plotting franchise shifts in shady back-room deals (Montreal, Florida. Florida, Boston). Owners doing everything to baseball except what really benefits the sport (It's a tie in Milwaukee!). Veeck lamenting not the high price of talent but rather the high price of mediocrity (how much is Colorado paying for Denny Neagle and Mike Hampton?)...
Just about the only highlight not covered is the sight of White Sox outfielder Chet Lemon wearing shorts. One of the few Bill Veeck innovations that did not catch on, and aren't we all better off...