Joe DiMaggio: The Hero's Life
by Richard Ben Cramer
Reviewed by Paul Wysard
Most of this book had been finished before the death of Joe DiMaggio in March, 1999. A final chapter, a scathing one, was added to review the postmortem and the mad scramble to sort out and control his assets. There was a lot of money, some of it garnered by The Hero as miser, but most of it resulting from the fabulous marketability of his name and signature. To the end, he protected those assets with the ferocity of a lion and manipulated memorabilia with the slyness of a fox.
If you enjoy San Francisco, you will be entertained by the earlier portions of the book. The streets, the sounds, smells and sites of The City come alive as the youth of the future Yankee Clipper is spent hawking newspapers downtown, skipping and then dropping out of school, sneaking smokes, and successfully rooting into card games. He also played baseball with an inordinate natural talent which was refined at an incredibly fast pace. We revisit North Beach, Fisherman's Wharf, the trolleys, Seals' Stadium, and the proud poverty of large portions of the Italian community of the '20s and '30s.
But from the very beginning - not after stardom - he was moody, aloof, suspicious, and willing to share himself and his talents for a price. At first, that price was loyalty and favors; later it was those, too, but also large amounts of money and perpetual free food and lodging. From teenager to octogenarian, he also held to one firm but unstated rule: People who in the smallest way appeared to take advantage of him, to make him look bad, or to assume anything about his behavior and activities, were unceremoniously dumped --as friends, story sources, or business associates. His penchant for punishing such transgressions, by scowl, silence or simply walking away is extensively - and sadly documented. Whether it was through clairvoyance or under some mysterious force, the future seemed to say to this young man: "You will be great and famous, an so you may - an must - act in certain ways others cannot and should not." A more subtle and ominous message might well have been: "You will be special, and, because of that, you will also be alone."
When, at 18, he began to commit himself to a baseball career, which was not at all a "given" in his early life, his rise was meteoric. The 61 game hit streak and barely missing .400 with the Seals are landmarks. His loping speed and strong throwing arm were well-know within the scouting community. For those who wonder why DiMaggio did not happen to sign with any other of the 15 major league teams, the book is instructive. The Yankees were very interested, but so were many rivals. Colonel Ruppert had the money to pay the Seals' ownership, of course, but when we become more aware of DiMaggio's personality and expectations we realize he could not go to Cleveland or Detroit. It had to be New York.
The Yankee years before World War II are familiar to most fans, but even those of us who dote upon '30s and '40s baseball sometimes fail to full recognize the remarkable record of that team and its superstar in center field. In the seven seasons from 1936 through 1942, there were six pennants and five World Series titles; for DiMaggio, two MVPs, two batting championships, and tops in homers and RBI once each.
Probably more remarkable than those numbers were his performances in 1947-49. Coming off foot surgeries and other problems, he destroyed the rival Red Sox -- in the standings and psychologically -- with clutch hits (several of them homers) when league leads, series, or individual games were on the line. All of this, deservedly, enhanced his image as a very special player, and the unique status continued to spill over into the view of him as a person. He became an icon, but that situation began, almost imperceptibly, to expose his weakness as a person. Expectations. assumptions, and not a little arrogance were bound up in the personality developed earlier. Cramer enables us to see the circumstances as more complicated than the poor boy reaching heights of popularity, wealth, and power. Cramer is not able to explain it, and DiMaggio himself would never give us answers, even if he could have. Most of those answers lie buried with him.
The two important women in his life, and his relationships with them, are not treated salaciously, and so they become of material interest within the bigger picture and not simply gossip items. Readers should make their own judgments as to what it all meant, but it seems that Joe D., in typical fashion, wanted to have his cake and eat it, too: Beautiful star-wife who would stay home and nurture him. Any fool knows it rarely works that way. Was he unrealistic in these matters? He himself suggested maybe that was the case.
The saga of Marilyn Monroe, with its Sinatra-Mafia connections, the lurking Kennedy brothers, the drugs, and the entire Hollywood scene are familiar, but not played out into boredom. This reader wonders, with some admiration, how in the world an author is able to dig up all that stuff.
This reviewer is always on the lookout for spicy tidbits in books of this type: petty baseball spats, conniving owners and general managers, personality clashes, anecdotes. There are many such to whet the appetite, and here are just two: When The Streak was at its height, Yankee slugger Charlie Keller observed the atmosphere and wondered, "When are the fat ladies, acrobats, and animals going to show up?" Did not know "King Kong" Keller was such a wit. We also learn that The Hero dated screen siren Marlene Dietrich, but was turned off. Said she had bad breath. Oh.
One certainly cannot feel sorry for DiMaggio, as many of his real or perceived problems were brought upon himself, but he did get a bum rap in early 1942 as America entered World War II. Based upon his terrific 1941 season, he asked for a raise. He was vilified because new military recruits Bob Feller and Hank Greenberg were receiving only lowly service pay. Tight fists in the Yankee front office encouraged the negative reaction, but few seemed to recognize that the Clipper was in deferred status with a wife and new child. That was a no-win situation. He joined up later, but that seemed to be more of a public relations move; unlike almost every other star in uniform, he was ambivalent, sometimes bitter.
As he passed into his eighties, he still expected large and small favors, from being chauffeured by friends to meals and rooms in fine hotels and restaurants. Men as close to him as he would allow were protective; "Joe won't go there," "Joe doesn't like that," highlight much of the discourse going on in public events as "The Greatest Living Ballplayer." There were men by the names of Aaron and Mays and Williams and Musial who were still very much alive, but no matter, the title bestowed in concert with Yankee special events was grasped as tightly as were his dollars.
The book has plenty of good baseball material, but is very worthwhile for more than that. It is a detailed, revealing character study, keeping one involved in anticipating which decisions The Hero will make, which roads he will take. If not immediately, every baseball student and fan should read it at some point. It is a seminal piece of work because its subject, although perhaps not The Greatest Living Ballplayer at the end of the last century, was the most famous and least understood. Revere him or not, he is still a part of America's language, culture and heritage.
Leave feedback on our message board.