Old Ball Game: How John McGraw, Christy Mathewson, and the New York Giants Created Modern Baseball

Publishers Weekly

At the turn of the 20th century, "every American could want to be Christy Mathewson," Deford writes, and "every American could admire John J. McGraw." For a generation of fans in the era before Babe Ruth, Giants pitcher Mathewson was the best baseball had to offer and the epitome of good sportsmanship. By contrast, McGraw was a hard-drinking player/manager frequently ejected from games for attacking the umps. When McGraw came to New York (after wearing out his welcome elsewhere), though, the two became so close that they moved in together along with their wives. Deford, expanding on an article he wrote for Sports Illustrated, provides an entertaining string of anecdotes peppered with his own observations, focusing on one player and then looping back to address the other. An NPR Morning Edition weekly commentator, Deford has a thoughtful eye for the details of a century past, but he also points out how much early 1900s baseball culture shares with today's, as when he compares early gambling scandals to the contemporary steroids controversy. Though not quite a full biography of either player, this lively volume offers great diversion for any baseball fan. B&w photos. Agent, Sterling Lord. (Apr.) Forecast: Heralded by GQ as "the world's greatest sportswriter," Deford is sure to get plenty of media attention at the start of the season. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

Veteran Sports Illustrated writer DeFord, author of a well-regarded life of tennis star Bill Tilden, turns his attention to the hallmark figures Christy Mathewson and his Giants manager John McGraw, contrasting personalities who nevertheless left their stamp upon the game that's played today. Vividly rendered sports history; for all collections. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

One of our more melodious sportswriters details the importance of Mathewson and McGraw in raising baseball to the status of a national pastime. As the 19th century gave way to the 20th, baseball was undergoing a facelift, writes Deford (An American Summer, 2002, etc.). While brawling and whoring were once as common to the sport as hits and outs, civility and upstandingness now became critical, as did class and style: "Proficiency mattered so to a nation on the make." Frank Merriwell met his real-life counterpart in Mathewson: golden, tall, handsome, kind, educated, the beau ideal and a pitcher whose statistics didn't just speak but bellowed his dominance. At his side on the New York Giants was McGraw: pugnacious, hardscrabble, shanty Irish, tough, field-smart, and as rude as any ballplayer ever was, but a winner who was adored despite his old-school ways. Together, the two would bring the spotlight to both a sport and a city. As much as Mathewson was in command as a slabman, Deford is in command of this story, as much a piece of social as of sporting history. Characters are made real, but so too is New York City and the way sport came to reflect the muscular Christianity championed by the prep school and college establishment. That, too, would pass, but not before baseball had captured the public imagination. Deford writes with a cunning sparkle in his eye; he loves happy little ironies like fans having once been referred to as "cranks," while he himself is indeed a droll fan, or crank. He's ready to tip his hat to the Giants for the passions they stirred, the controversy of their manager, and the deserved popularity of their pitching ace. Mathewson and McGraw may be the star attractions,but it's Deford's reach of baseball knowledge, its color and historical circumstance-all the minutiae that pile up into a grand and recognizable edifice-that sets this one apart.