March is Mostly Mets Reading Month transitions to an even bigger celebration with 'The Case for Christ'

I'm kind of sad that March is Mostly Mets Reading Month is coming to a close. There are still so many books to talk about and stories to tell.

But today's entry will help as we ease into the next celebration, followed by yet another on Monday.

The Case for Christ by Lee Strobel

Published in 1998

Would you give your life to defend something you knew was a lie?

It was one of the most heartbreaking stories I have ever covered. A missionary family from a Grand Rapids suburb was working in South America, flying in a small plane that the government mistakenly believed was being used by drug smugglers.

The authorities opened fire on the plane, and a shot ripped through the fuselage, killing the mother and infant daughter she was holding in her lap.

I was assigned to cover the funeral, and was amazed at how some of my fellow journalists were behaving and how well the church staff was handling the international attention, mourning in front of a wall of cameras.

A couple days after the funeral I wrote a note to the pastor, thanking him and his staff for being so helpful during what I knew was a very difficult and emotional time.

A short while later an envelope arrived in the newsroom with a nice note from the pastor and the book, “The Case for Christ, A Journalist’s Personal Investigation of the Evidence for Jesus,” by Lee Strobel. I was intrigued by the surprise gift, and was hooked.

Strobel was a cops and courts reporter for the Chicago Tribune and an atheist. His wife in 1979 became a believer and he was amazed by her transformation. Still a skeptic, he dove headfirst into an exhaustive investigation to prove whether or not Jesus existed and whether the details of his life that we celebrate this week were, in fact, true.

It’s a fascinating story as he travels the country, grilling experts and historians. Along the way he weaves in stories about events he covered over the course of his career, and how they might apply to the next line of questioning.

He comes to a startling conclusion – and you can consider this a spoiler alert:

“The atheism I had embraced for so long buckled under the weight of historical truth. It was a stunning and radical outcome, certainly not what I had anticipated when I had embarked on this investigative process. But this was, in my opinion, a decision compelled by the facts.”

I was moved by the gift and the story, and admire the way it was told. So much so, that I required it in the journalism classes I teach. I’m an adjunct at a Christian college, so this is OK. And if you want to make college students happy, tell them that you can find copies of their newly assigned textbook on Amazon for under $1. In classes where I don’t get to select the textbooks, I read aloud passages, especially the sections where Strobel describes the people he interviews and their offices.

I want the students to see how this acclaimed journalist went about his craft, and know that our work can have a tremendous impact on our readers – and, on a good day, ourselves.

Now, to get back to the question at the top of today’s post. One of the most fascinating interviews in the book looks at the disciples and their lives after the resurrection. If that resurrection, and all the other aspects of Christ’s life, were false, they would know. Nearly all were put to death after spending their days telling people about what they had experienced. No one, he argues, gives their life for something they know is false. 

Your reading list:

March 29: "The Happiest Recap" by Greg W. Prince
March 28: "New York Mets, the First Quarter Century" by Donald Honig
March 22: "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72" by Hunter S. Thompson

March 21: "Swinging '73" by Matthew Silverman
March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'The Happiest Recap' and shameful streaks

We're running out of days in March is Mostly Mets Reading Month. But today's entry reminds us that even the least-legendary Mets can create a memory of a lifetime.

The Happiest Recap, First Base: 1962-1973 by Greg W. Prince

Published 2012

Every game the Mets win is a treasure to behold.

Some are extra special, like the pennant clinchers or the two historic games that allowed the team to claim the title “World Champions.”

Some are also special, but not for obvious reasons.

Greg, who is celebrating the 10^th anniversary the glorious “Faith and Fear in Flushing” blog he co-writes, is telling us about 500 interesting victories in the Mets storied history.

And as Greg explains in the book – the first of four in a series – the games he’s looking for could be highlighted for introducing us to a new character, be marked by an amazing team or individual effort, or “games that left behind images that defy erasure.”

The title, as any veteran Mets fan will recognize, comes legendary broadcaster Bob Murphy’s post-game summary when things went well. And because it’s Greg, you know it will be well-written and enjoyable and hit any true Mets fan right in the heart.

Alas, there was a long, dark stretch where there were no happy recaps for me, at least when I saw the Mets play in person. How long, and how dark, you might ask? Try a 17-year span between the July 21, 1991 victory over to the Dodgers at Shea to a momentous July 20, 2008 win over the Reds in Cincy.

It was heartbreaking and nearly unbearable. I’d watch the Mets lose at Shea and on the road, in Subway Series games at both New York Stadiums and Opening Day in Miami. I saw them get clobbered by the Tigers 14-0 at one Detroit stadium and 15-7 in another.

I saw them lose from a perch in the press box in Cincy and the upper deck at Wrigley.

This became known as “The Streak of Shame,” a period to be debated and chronicled. Pretty much, if I showed up, the Mets lost – for 11 straight games.

Finally, the streak came to its end in an unlikely place at the hands of an unlikely player.

The Baseball Truth gang got together for our annual baseball road trip on July 19, 2008, again in Cincy with the Mets in the house. The Mets lost of course, 7-2.

That was a Saturday night, and the Mets were in town the next day for a Sunday afternoon game. I decided to grab a ticket and attend, then make the six-hour trip home to Grand Rapids.

Unlike nearly all the other games, I didn’t attend with friends or family. This was just me and the Mets.

The team went ahead early, up 4-1 in the fourth inning. Of course the Reds tied it up, and then went ahead in the sixth. The familiar gloom was setting in.

But the Mets tied it up in the seventh, and the game marched into extra innings.

Perhaps few of us remember Robinson Cancel, the Mets pudgy third-string catcher and pinch-hitter of last resort.

He led off with a double.

Jose Reyes dropped a sacrifice bunt to get him to third and beat the throw.

Few of us remember Argenis Reyes, a light-hitting backup infielder. He tapped a grounder that the Reds threw away, allowing Cancel to score. The first and more familiar Reyes later came around to score on another play.

To say I was excited doesn’t do justice to the pacing and weeping that was going on as Billy Wagner stepped to the mound.

Billy struck out the side, lifting his hands in the air and an enormous weight off this fan’s back.

I know the July 20, 2008 7-5 win over the Reds won’t make a future volume of Greg’s book, but it was the happiest recap for this fan.

  

Streak of Shame 1991-2008

1991 July 21, Mets 9, Dodgers 4

1993 April 18, Reds 3, Mets 2

1995 July 26, Cardinal 3, Mets 2
1995 Sept. 24, Marlins 4, Mets 3

1997 June 17, Yankees 6, Mets 3

1997 June 30 Tiger 14, Mets 0

1999 April 5, Marlins 6, Mets 2

2007 June 10, Tigers 15, Mets 7

2007 Aug. 4, Cubs 6, Mets 0

2008 April 21, Cubs 7, Mets 1

2008 June 28, Yankees 3, Mets 2

2008 July 19, Reds 7, Mets 2

2008 July 20, Mets 7, Reds 5

Your reading list:

March 28: "New York Mets, the First Quarter Century" by Donald Honig
March 22: "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72" by Hunter S. Thompson

March 21: "Swinging '73" by Matthew Silverman
March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'New York Mets, The First Quarter Century' as one author but many writers

Some books start out great and get even better. Today's March is Mostly Mets Reading Month entry in a way features many, many writers.

“The New York Mets, the First Quarter Century” by Donald Honig

Published in 1986.

I’m not sure which autograph came second. But the first came from my Mom.

“The New York Mets, the First Quarter Century” was a Christmas present from my parents in 1986, and Mom inscribed the first page.

In the nearly 30 years since, the book has been a constant companion to ballparks, spring training complexes and anywhere else I might encounter a current or former Mets.

It started with when we lived in Connecticut in the late 1980s, when baseball card shows started popping up with regularity and players appeared to sign autographs for a fee.  It was pretty reasonable at the time. For a couple dollars, you had the opportunity to meet Keith Hernandez, or Tommie Agee and have them sign a ball or photo.

I figured it would be neat to have players sign the book, which, as you can guess from the title, is the story of the team’s history, released during the 1986 season.  It’s branded the “official 25^th anniversary book” and has lots of nice photos.

I started asking players to sign some of the title pages in the front, and it’s filled up over the years. Tom Seaver has a place of honor, and was the only one asked to personalize the signature.

Tom Seaver, Jerry Koosman, HoJo and other many others
are in the book.

Some pages have been reserved for special events. Members of the 1969 championship team appeared at a show on a pier in Manhattan, and a large number of players from the 1962 original Mets were at a show in a New York hotel.

After seeing the behavior of some of the professional autograph hounds at the ballgames, I liked bringing the book with me to spring training, when it seemed less imposing to approach players.

I actually met one of the former players in the stands in St. Lucie.

I noticed a gentleman standing behind the dugout during batting practice. I noticed that several coaches and team execs would come to the dugout, shake hands and chat with the guy.

I suspected he might be someone important, and slinked over with my Mets history book. I slipped a peek at the credential hanging around his neck, and saw this name.

"Are you Jay Hook, as in first-Mets-win Jay Hook?" I asked.

His face lit up, seemingly pleased that someone recognized him. He said he’d be happy to sign my book. We found a spot to sign, and I recalled that show with the 1962 team and wondered if he was there.

Hook said he didn’t recall such a show, and together we turned to the page and he went down the list, reading the names and talking about his former teammates.

When he realized for sure that his name wasn’t on that page, he said, "Well, we’d better take care of that!" and signed that one, too.

The 1962 page with both Bob Millers, "Marvelous Marv" and
other heroes from that inaugural year.

I’d guess there are more than 200 signatures in it now, from Hall of Famers like Gary Carter, Warren Spahn, Duke Snider and Richie Ashburn. It’s got owners Nelson Doubleday and Fred Wilpon – met at a spring game in Vero Beach – and general managers, managers, coaches and broadcasters.

But some of my favorite signatures are the players whose time in the Mets universe was brief, Brent Mayne, Eric Cammack, Jorge Sosa and Scott Hairston. They’re all a part of our Mets history and in the book.

The rest of your reading list:

March 22: "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72" by Hunter S. Thompson

March 21: "Swinging '73" by Matthew Silverman
March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72' and real-life adventures with Hunter S. Thompson

I must have the early 1970s on the brain. After yesterday's look at the baseball world of 1973, we can step back a year and the wild world of Hunter S. Thompson.

“Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ’72” by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Published in 1973

This was actually required reading for one of my college journalism classes. 

Hunter S. Thompson is the legendary Rolling Stone writer famous for “gonzo” journalism that blurred the lines between fact and exaggerated truth.  And I say blurred, because it appears much of what transpires in a Thompson story occurs through a haze of booze and drugs, all thoroughly documented by the author.

That’s because the main character in a Hunter S. Thompson story is usually Thompson, with the stories being a first-person account of his adventures on the campaign trail.

When Thompson is “on,” he’s incredibly insightful and biting, and no one escapes his pointed wit, especially his colleagues in the media. And when he’s not, he’s still very entertaining. There are parts of this book that are hysterical, difficult to read because of the laughing it provokes. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if Thompson takes his role too seriously, or not seriously at all.

“Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72” is a collection of Rolling Stone stories from the presidential election between Richard Nixon and George McGovern, who Thompson describes as a good man who was over matched when the party establishment took over his campaign.

Among the things we learned is that Thompson had a running feud with straight-laced NBC News anchor John Chancellor.

There’s a scene from the GOP convention in Miami where Thompson is trying to infiltrate a group of young Nixon supporters as they are about to be ushered on to the convention floor for a celebration. All was going well until he spotted Chancellor in the broadcast booth above. Here’s an excerpt:

“They herded us out of the Ready Room and called a ragged kind of cadence while we double-timed it across the wet grass under the guava trees in the back of the hall and finally burst through a well-guarded access door held open for us by Secret Service men just as balloons were released from the ceiling. It was wonderful; I waved happily to the SS man as I raced past him with the herd and then onto the floor. The hall was so full of balloons that I couldn’t see anything at first, but then I spotted Chancellor up there in the booth and I let the bastard have it. First I held up my “GARBAGE MEN DEMANDS EQUAL TIME” sign at him. Then, when I was sure he’d noticed the sign, I tucked it under my arm and ripped off my hat, clutching it in the same fist I was shaking angrily at the NBC booth and screaming at the top of my lungs: ‘You evil scumsucker! You’re through! You limp-wristed Nazi moron!’

“I went deep into the foulest back-waters of my vocabulary for that trip, working myself into a flat-out screeching hate-frenzy for five or six minutes and drawing similes of approval from some of my fellow demonstrators. They were dutifully chanting the slogans that had been assigned to them in the Ready Room – but I was really into it, and I could see that my zeal impressed them.”

A true story? Who knows. But it’s a fun read, especially if you've ever covered one of these things.

Rich and I had the opportunity to see a Thompson appearance in New Haven, Conn. in the late 1980s. It was a surreal evening.

Thompson sat at a table on stage, wearing aviator sunglasses and a cheap, tan Yankees cap that had a visor decorated with ballpoint pen. A bottle of some kind of booze was there, too, and he kept refilling his glass. 

A local radio host sat at another table and served as the moderator, asking a number of political questions, and Thompson, sometimes mumbling, would reply. It was difficult to hear what he was saying, but it was clear he still didn’t like President Nixon.

At some point the moderator called for questions from the audience. After several political questions, an attractive – and I’m guessing rather drunk – girl asked Thompson if he could sign her shoe.

Thompson disappeared behind the curtain – much to the apparent shock of the moderator – and appeared a short while later with another chair and invited the girl to come sit with him at the table.

Questions resumed, with Thompson answering some questions and the girl answering others, especially after the questions were about her and Thompson’s intentions toward her. Any doubts about her sobriety were soon dashed.

This went on for a while before Thompson again got up and disappeared behind the curtain, apparently much to the surprise of the moderator, who, at this point, was barely controlling things. Thompson emerged a short time later with a large trash can, set it on one side of the stage, and proceeded to try to fling like a Frisbee his empty box of Canadian cigarettes. (Unlike American packs, smokes from up north are sold in boxes that are flatter and wider with stronger cardboard.) Thompson was pretty good at this, then started challenging audience members to come up on stage and do the same.

This, too, went on for a while before Thompson again abruptly disappeared behind the curtain, this time not returning.

“Well everyone, I guess that’s ‘Good night,” the bemused moderator said.

Looking back, I’m glad I went to see Thompson, because he’s a legend and the night was an unpredictable sideshow that always seemed about to careen out of control. But I probably wouldn’t have ever plunked down $11 to see him again. Perhaps what had once been a brilliant and sharp mind had become dulled. It was a night both fascinating and frightening.

The book, however, remains a good and very funny read.

Thompson certainly in't a role model as a journalist, though I absolutely know one who thinks he is the heir apparent. But he does show a different way of looking at things, especially the people we cover and how they cover them. 

Your reading list so far:

March 21: "Swinging '73" by Matthew Silverman
March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'Swinging '73,' a story of obsession and heartbreak

You knew there would be more Mets books this month. Today, we're headed back to 1973, where it all began.

“Swinging ’73, Baseball’s Wildest Season” by Matthew Silverman

Published in 2013

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t a Mets fan. But I do remember when the Mets became an obsession. As a 9-year-old in 1973, I was hooked from spring training on.

I’m sure this was a result of a number of things. I had friends in school who were sports fans and when we weren’t talking baseball, we were playing it at Hawthorn Elementary, Brady Park or, most often, in the neighborhood streets. (To this day, I don't know how we didn't do more damage to houses, cars and ourselves. But I also can attribute my ability today to hit a softball up the middle of the field to the narrowness of Fitzmaurice and Van Buren streets.)

I also started reading the newspapers, studying the Daily News and Newsday from back to front each day and cutting out every photo of a Met, taping them in spiral notebooks. Sportswriters also were heroes, and the dream of one day working as a reporter was no doubt hatched at this time.

And, perhaps most importantly, I had a black-and-white television in my bedroom that became the conduit for Bob, Ralph and Lindsey and the adventures of the Mets every night on WOR. For those West Coast trips, I’d keep a small transistor radio on my pillow, drifting off to sleep as the Mets toiled against the Giants, Dodgers and Padres.  

The Mets were a colorful cast of characters then and I knew them all, flipping through my yearbooks, scrapbooks and baseball cards as the games progressed. Hammer, Tug, Buddy, Kooz, Willie, Rusty, Yogi, Duffy, Cleon, Krane, Felix – they were all flawless, larger-than-life figures. I can still probably recite the entire 25-man roster with little trouble. And, of course, at the center of it all was Tom Seaver, the knight whose armor shined the brightest.

Matt Silverman brilliantly takes us through the season, focusing on the Mets with an eye on developments in the Bronx, of which I at the time had only passing interest, and across the country in Oakland, where the A’s were a styling, brawling team that, had they not appeared in my packs of Topps cards, I would not have known existed. The American League was none of my concern.

Matt also walks through the America that existed outside of baseball -- the dramas of Watergate and Nixon and Spiro Agnew -- and how they all came together in the summer and fall of 1973.

The Mets of 1873 still had most of the strongest pillars of the 1969 championship team but were beset by a series of injuries. I vividly remember watching the epic outfield collision of George Theodore and Don Hahn.

Me in 1973: Say what you want about the pants, but that
belt buckle is awesome!

But somehow the team fought itself back into contention in the National League East, winning the division in the final series of the season against the Cubs. 

Of course it did. Every story a 9-year-old reads has a happy ending. Batman always escapes the Joker’s traps. The good guys always win.

I remember we interrupted a Cub Scout meeting to send someone in to check the score of Game 3 of the playoffs, with the entire den everyone spilling our living room to watch the brawl between Pete Rose and Buddy Harrelson and then Tom, Willie, Yogi and Rusty walking out to left field to ask the fans to stop pelting Rose with debris.

The World Series was a tough life lesson. We all learned about the A’s, with their funny jerseys and mustaches and ballpark that made it hard for Willie to see fly balls. And, the stupid umpire who called Buddy out at home when he was clearly safe – and I knew he was safe because Willie Mays said so. We learned about the A's players fighting with the owner and the player the owner tried to pretend was hurt and the ovation the player got at Shea because we support underdogs and have no tolerance for injustice.

And I remember the entire family gathered around the living room television for Game 7, and my grandmother saying late in the game that someone needed to go to Friendly’s to bring back some ice cream because the Mets, after falling behind, were not going to catch up. Grandma grew up in Brooklyn and had been an avid Dodgers fan. She knew a thing or two about World Series heartbreak.

And I remember being utterly shocked and dismayed – my little world shattered – when, somehow, the bad guys won. It’s not supposed to happen that way.

Of course, as a 9-year-old, I had no way of knowing  that this crushing disappointment would actually be the high point for the Mets until the middle of the next decade, with losing seasons and gut-wrenching trades that only continued to shock and dismay and shatter. The bad guys had quite a winning streak there for a while.

Silverman’s a talented and entertaining writer -- we could fill the entire month with his Mets books -- and this would be an enjoyable read for any baseball fan. But for me, it was a magical trip to a special time and a special place, with each page stirring up another memory.

Your reading list so far:

March 18: "Roadshow" by Neil Peart

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'Roadshow' talks about Neil Peart, motocycles and 'magic shows'

Is it possible to include Rush in both of our March blog themes? 

“Roadshow: Landscape with Drums. A concert Tour by Motorcycle” by Neil Peart

Published in 2006

The danger of meeting people you’ve admired from afar is that they just not like you expected them to be.

I know I would have been a puddle had Tom Seaver been unfriendly when I finally met him at an autograph show in 1988. Seaver, in fact, was wonderful and provided a lifetime memory and a reward for the years of fandom.

But I was a little apprehensive when I picked up “Roadshow,” a book by Rush drummer Neil Peart. There’s a chance I based an entire school year of art projects on his lyrics.

The book describes how Peart brings his BMW motorcycle on tour, taking the scenic route between gigs. He has adventures along the way, and we learn about the many things that go into taking a popular band on the road.

We’ve always known that Peart is a gifted writer, and the pages turn effortlessly. What I didn’t know is that he’s kind of a quirky, prickly person. He talks about enjoying performing, but not encountering fans. There are many tales of fans interrupting his privacy for this or that. If encountered in public, he wants a simple “Thank you for the music,” and then to be left alone.

Good to know, and that’s certainly his right. It explains the “Limelight” lyrics. But it doesn’t necessarily make for enjoyable reading, as it comes up a lot.

What I did really enjoy is when the focus shifted to the concerts, and some of the people and activities that take place behind the curtain. I especially liked hearing about what the musicians call “magic shows” – when everything is just perfect.

Here’s a passage talking about the phenomena:

“That night in San Antonio, even when I sat down at the practice kit for my seven o’clock warm up, I could feel it – what baseball pitchers call their ‘stuff.’ Hands and feet worked smoothly together like they wanted to, sticks and beaters struck clean and true and everything I played flowed out with controlled fire.

“I had my stuff, and the stars and planets must have been aligned, too. The show poured out of us like a force of nature, sweeping out in waves from the stage and the lights and the speaker cabinets, ebbing and flowing over a cheering, smiling, delighted crowd. We were all locked together in a long, timeless moment of sublime pleasure, and as song after song played out into the ether, I felt energized and ever more determined to make this the one.”

Pretty cool, right? 

As you know from the R40 Countdown posts, Will and I are headed to see  Rush in Chicago in June, and I’ll be looking for signs of magic. But we'll keep our distance from Neil, offering a wave and a "Thank you -- very much -- for the music" if we see him on the BMW. 

Your reading list so far:

March 17: "Destiny of the Republic" by Candice Millard
March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince

March is Mostly Mets Reading Month: 'Destiny of the Republic,' the heartbreaking story of President James Garfield

After a short break, we’re back at the bookshelf for another presidential reading adventure.

“Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President” by Candice Millard

Published in 2011

It’s a heartbreaking story.

President James Garfield was sort of the JFK of his time, a young war hero, brilliant and well-liked with younger children.

Author Candice Miller, who also has written “The River of Doubt” about Theodore Roosevelt’s near-fatal expedition, weaves the tale of Garfield’s humble beginnings and rise to presidency with the life of his eventual assassin, Charles J. Guiteau.

They intersect on July 2, 1881 in a Washington train station when Guiteau shoots the president from behind, just months into his term. Garfield died two months later.

The tragedy is that this wouldn’t happen today.

Guiteau suffered from severe mental illness and probably wouldn’t be walking the streets untreated today. Certainly his increasingly hostile letters to the White House demanding an office would today draw attention and a visit from the Secret Service.

I’d say that no one would be able to walk up to a president in a train station these days, but I never expected someone in 2014 would be able to stroll into the White House undetected, either.

It’s also likely that modern medicine would have saved the president, who, as Millard vividly tells us, was unfortunately subjected to less-than-stellar medical care and eventually died – painfully -- from infection and starvation. The bullet, it turned out, somehow missed his spine and vital organs. If left alone, he’d have been home in a matter of days and recover completely.

In one of Guiteau’s clearer moments during his farcical trial, he said that he merely shot the president, and that his doctors killed him.

Garfield today is remembered as a president with tremendous potential who served too briefly to make an impact. But his successor, New Yorker Chester Arthur, was able to use Garfield’s death and the hands of a deranged office-seeker to create the civil service system.

My son and I were able to visit Garfield’s magnificent tomb in Cleveland in 2008.  The 20th president rests in Lake View Cemetery on the city’s east side.

We arrived at the castle-like memorial about 4:02 — only to find it closed at 4 p.m. We ran up the stairs and found the door already locked, and were about to walk away when it slowly opened.

The caretaker said he was sorry, and that he had just closed. I asked if we could quickly pay our respects. He appreciated that we had come from far away, opened the door all the way and said, "Let me go and turn all the lights back on."

And once inside we saw a spectacular rotunda with a large white statue of Garfield, dramatically lit. The caretaker said the architect didn’t want the statue in there, thinking it was unnecessary, but was overruled by the committee overseeing the project.

He pointed out some of the features, then sent us to the circular stone staircase to the lower level.

And there, on simple stone pedestals, were the caskets of President Garfield and his wife, Lucretia as well as urns containing the cremains of their daughter and her husband.

I’ve been to a number of presidential grave sites, and in every other place the caskets are either buried or encased in a vault.

The caskets of Mrs. and President Garfield.

I didn’t want to impose any longer, so we rushed back upstairs and thanked the caretaker profusely.

But he said we weren’t done, and pointed to stairs leading up to an observation deck, where, he said, we’d have the best view of the Cleveland skyline in the city.

And he was correct.

Your reading list so far:

March 11: "Street Gang" by Michael Davis
March 10: "Topps Baseball Cards, the Complete Picture Collection"
March 9: "Dodger Dogs to Fenway Franks" by Bob Wood
March 8: "The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt" by Edmund Morris

March 7: "The New York Mets" by Leonard Koppett
March 6: "Mary Lou" by Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi

March 5: "Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century" by Marc Okkenon
March 4: "Clemente! The Enduring Legacy" by Kal Wagenheim 
March 3: "Mets by the Numbers" by Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman

March 2: "Faith and Fear in Flushing" by Greg W. Prince