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12 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
REAL baseball giants and the mysterious Mr. Lindell, June 10, 2002
Dick Dobbins does the job right in "The Grand Minor League", a retrospective of the old Pacific Coast League (PCL).The PCL still exists today as a AAA league - one step below the majors - but it is purely an adjunct minor league system to the two major leagues. However, this book is about the PCL's glory days, largely originating during the Depression and spanning the second world war and the first twelve years of the post-war era until the New York Giants and the Brooklyn Dodgers moved to the West Coast. The PCL financed operations by charging admission for its own games and by selling contracts of its more promising stars to the established major league teams. But some visionaries had dreams of attaining major league status for the PCL, and it could have happened. A disproportionate amount of major-league level talent could be found on the West Coast, and PCL scouts were busy signing it up. While one PCL owner was dryly reputed to have the reputation of throwing dollars around as though they were manhole covers, the pay could be more generous (the players whose contracts were sold to the majors even received a percentage of the sales price) and the opportunities for stardom could be GREATER than that which was available in the majors; moreover, the Pacific Coast was "home" to many of its players. Hence, some major leaguers sought to return there. And when the majors reluctantly granted the PCL "open classification" status, players drafted by the majors were accorded the option of waiving the draft and remaining with their respective PCL teams and were often rewarded with bonuses for doing so. The PCL could have evolved into a third major league, but the opposition from the established major league owners, who saw the potential for expansion or relocation to the West Coast long before moving the Giants and Dodgers there, was too great to overcome. The moves themselves sounded the death knell for the traditional conception of the league. Its legacy includes the players who became stars or near-stars in the big leagues, such as Lefty O'Doul, Dolph Camilli, Maury Wills (amazingly enough, he was only an adequate shortstop and a sometime base-stealer during his PCL days, who didn`t reach stardom until he went to the Dodgers), and of course, Joe DiMaggio. Startlingly, Dobbins fails to remind his readers that years before he electrified the country with his 56-game hitting streak, DiMaggio was thrilling West Coast fans with a 61 game hitting streak in the PCL. Both records are among the few that have withstood the test of time. One can observe other ironies. Long before Tommy Lasorda and Sparky Anderson did battle, in their respective roles as managers of the Los Angeles Dodgers and Cincinnati's "Big Red Machine", for Western Division supremacy during the 1970's, they were teammates on the Los Angeles Angels, working together to establish geographical supremacy against the arch-rival Hollywood Stars. And speaking of managers, debate rages among baseball historians about Casey Stengel's managerial acumen. Was he an adept, if incomprehensible, managerial genius or a bum who failed miserably in Boston and who only attained success by piggy-backing on the vast talent of some super Yankee teams? The story of Stengel's stewardship of the 1948 PCL Champion Oakland Oaks is a huge point in his favor. Dobbins draws some of his history from the records but most of it from the recollections of the old-time players who consented to be interviewed. My only real criticism is that it took someone too long to undertake this project. The passage of time limits the sources from which Dobbins could draw. And how trustworthy is human memory? There is a reference in one of the narratives supplied to Dobbins about a player named Johnny Lindell who alternated between pitcher and outfielder and who "would have been in the big leagues" if he could have only hit more consistently. Who would dare observe, in response, that the record book shows that during the 1940's, an outfielder-pitcher named Johnny Lindell played in the majors, chiefly for the Yankees (this included several World Series appearances), on a part-time basis for 12 years and that he retired in 1954 with a respectable lifetime batting average of .273, having twice led the league in triples? He couldn't hit well enough for the major leagues. Or could he? Were there two Johnny Lindells answering to the same description? My favorite chapter was about the old ballparks. If you are a displaced and discouraged Giant fan who lives in the Los Angeles area, you can carry the book and its pictures of the ballparks to the corners of Beverly, Fairfax and Genessee and try to envision the Hollywood Stars' Gilmore Field having once stood there. The intersections now are home to a little company known as CBS - Television City, and there isn't even a marker anywhere to show that Gilmore Field ever existed. And you can drive to 42nd and Avalon and marvel at the human and urban sprawl that has overtaken the area. Wrigley Field, home to the ORIGINAL Los Angeles Angels and named and constructed after its more famous Chicago namesake, has been torn down, and a community center named after a politician has been erected in its place. Again, no marker commemorates Wrigley Field. Soccer, not baseball, is the recreation of choice for the locals, and the excited cries of the players and spectators are not being delivered in English. Is there any marker on the corner of 16th and Bryant in San Francisco to memorialize Seals Stadium? "The Grand Minor League" is a fitting tribute to the REAL baseball giants of the West Coast and to a time when baseball was a "melting pot" language, when the game was played, not by overpaid egotistical prima donnas, but by men with working-class ethics, and when teams were managed by men and not "Dustys". Where have you gone, Rugger Ardizoia?
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