Amazon.com Review
The sight of hulking reliever Goose Gossage staring over his Fu Manchu was only a little less menacing than the high cheese he would uncork in the next motion. In 22 major-league seasons, he regularly led fellow closers in intimidation. That's why the caricature of him smiling on the cover of his autobiography is so jolting. But it's a fair reflection of what's inside.
Gossage, it turns out, is a pretty genial fellow, funny and fun-loving, a clubhouse prankster as fast with an anecdote as he was with his heat. But like the extraordinary pitcher he was, he also knows how to change pace, and his out pitch in The Goose Is Loose is his willingness to break the code of the locker room by telling tales and naming names. Some of his stories carry more sting than a fastball to the ribs. If you wonder why there was no love lost between him and Yankee skipper Billy Martin, look no further: "My first one-on-one encounter with [him] at spring training in 1978 set the tone for my disastrous debut as a Bronx Bomber. When Martin gave me an order that I refused to follow, friction surfaced immediately and never went away." The order? To bean Texas Ranger rookie Billy Sample in the opening exhibition game. Martin was adamant. "He was as vindictive as a Mafia don." Gossage was equally adamant in refusing. He wouldn't hurt another ballplayer or fight someone else's battles. Martin would never forget, but Gossage gets the last word in.
Gossage is equally forthcoming in his lack of appreciation for Jose Canseco, Ricky Henderson, Bobby Valentine, and the John Birchers he played with in San Diego. On the other hand, his respect for Chuck Tanner, George Brett, Thurmon Munson, and Sparky Lyle--Gossage took the incumbent Cy Young winner's job--is clear. Still, the fun of The Goose Is Loose is the way Gossage goes in for the kill. If he demurred at plunking them from the mound, he has no such reservations on the page. --Jeff Silverman
From Publishers Weekly
One of baseball's first great relief pitchers, Goose Gossage amassed 310 saves in a 22-year career. He also collected enough stories to compile a baseball memoir in which he recounts innumerable hijinks, lauds dozens of teammates and coaches and takes readers through his early struggles and his most memorable appearances, such as the 1978 one-game playoff between the New York Yankees and Boston. Though it seems each page has more cliches and desperate similes than a baseball has stitches (on his arrival in Japan, "I stood out like Gulliver among the Lilliputians, towering over the Japanese people like an NBA center"; on the riot following the 1984 World Series in Detroit, "Seeing all those thousands of Tiger fans getting crunched and pummeled by mounted police reminded me of a Godzilla movie"), Pate, who has collaborated on several sports autobiographies, makes up for these bad patches by including handfuls of juicy baseball factoids. Unlike many athletes who chronicle their lives, Gossage is not afraid to throw inside. He takes to task players he considers selfish and lazy, such as Rickey Henderson and Jose Canseco. He paints a harsh picture of people with whom he's clashed, most notably team owners George Steinbrenner and Joan Kroc and managers Billy Martin and Bobby Valentine. As for Gossage himself, readers will have a mixed opinion. Sometimes he criticizes himself for his more shameful or boneheaded escapades; sometimes he gives himself a free pass by making lame excuses or jokes. This book is no Bronx Zoo, just as Gossage was no Sparky Lyle, but its "no BS, let-the-chips-fall-where-they-may" approach makes it as engaging as any sports bio in the game today.
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.