Bats

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Bats (Magill Book Reviews)

For an individual’s observations of the world to be interesting, his writing must establish a distinct, singular voice which sustains the promise of new and intriguing insight and information. Davey Johnson, who has guided the New York Mets to two second place finishes after a decade cellar-dwelling, has been relatively self-contained, even mysterious, according to the ever-inquisitive members of the New York media. But his reclusiveness, as his detailed dairy of the 1985 season demonstrates, is just another aspect of a complex, calculating man who, now that he has chosen to speak, displays a voice of some interest and originality.

Johnson (with his very able collaborator Peter Golenbock) offers some brief material on his background as a player and his interests outside baseball, but the bulk of the book is a chronological account of the decisions he made as the Mets challenged the St. Louis Cardinals until the very last days of the season. The key to the narrative may be Johnson’s distress that Frank Cashen, the general manager with whom he has a contentious but respectful working relationship, might suspect that “he hasn’t thought of everything.” To the contrary, Johnson demonstrates in every game situation he discusses that he has considered all of the variables and that he has a reason for everything he does. His analysis is detailed, lucid, and logical. Combine this ability with his fierce passion for victory, grudging sense of fairplay, and hard-headed, unsentimental awareness of the price one must pay to be a pennant winner, and the reasons for this success begin to emerge.

The inside information on players is brief but tantalizing. The already awesome Dwight Gooden is a picture of unflappable greatness; Rusty Staub is a solid old pro; Keith Hernandez is proud and intense, with a tough of manic humor; Gary Carter is high-spirited and eager, the rock Johnson built his team on. In his observations on Billy Martin, George Steinbrenner, Sparky Anderson, and other contemporaries, Johnson pulls no punches, but he is never insulting or small-minded.

The conclusion of the book, the final series with the Cardinals, is a fitting culmination to an exciting recollection for the fan who lived through it, a demonstration of baseball as dramatic art of those who read it for the first time. Johnson’s goal is to make the Mets a perennial pennant contender, and if his digestive system does not collapse completely and he is not fired for insubordination, he will probably manage them to his lofty plateau. BATS is excellent preparation for the fan who wants to follow the Mets’ progress toward that goal in 1986.