All My Octobers: My Memories of Twelve World Series When the Yankees Ruled Baseball
The termsuperstarmay have been coined with Mantle in mind. When healthy, he was arguably the greatest player of his generation--Willie Mays will get a few votes--and was certainly the best player on the best team. Mantle has already written an autobiography (The Mick, 1957) and so here concentrates on the World Series; in his 18-year career, he and the New York Yankees played in 12. His accounts are straightforward: "Then I homered in the eight for a 2-1 lead which held up." But as in any sports memoir, it's the anecdotes that add value, and the Mick has a million of 'em. A favorite: in 1951, when Mantle was a rookie, Joe DiMaggio was in his final season. A new coach, outraged by an ump's call, began tossing things from the dugout onto the field. The dignified DiMaggio ordered him to stop, saying, "On this team, when we get mad, we don't throw things, we hit home runs." Mantle provides a moving epilogue to the book with an admission of his longtime alcoholism and his recent efforts to remain sober. The Mick is proof, some 25 years after his retirement from baseball, that genuine superstar status can't be measured by endorsement dollars or bestowed by marketing departments. It's earned, slowly and mysteriously, over a career and after. Will anyone care about Michael or Shaq or Barry Bonds in 25 years? We'll see.Wes Lukowsky