As I’m rereading a book about Mickey Mantle, I don’t recall the problems he had had with Joe DiMaggio, who, as The Mick was beginning his career, Joltin Joe was ending his. I also don’t remember what a light touch he was money wise, and how even his friends took advantage of him. The way he quietly visited sick kids, and despite a 44 year marriage, went after women like dishes on a buffet table. My hero partied hard, dying of alcoholism at the age of 63.
Leavy’s prose is fresh as if there were pages missing the first time around, my consciousness shifting, sifting through the past revisiting it.
A book on World War II, not my first, left me stunned at the way our soldiers were treated as Prisoners of War by the Japanese. Tortured, beaten, fed so little their teeth loosened from lack of nutrients. How didn’t I know this? Perhaps the complete horror was too much to initially take in, where now, an opening existed for the truth in all its awfulness to penetrate. 
George Washington is always commended for stepping down as head of the Continental Army at the peak of his power, saying a heartfelt farewell to his troops at Manhattan’s Fraunces Tavern that still, as a museum installation, can be seen.
I reread, it wasn’t due to humility that the Father of our Country stepped down, it was because he was broke, not taking a salary for 7 years leaving his farm in the hands of a relative that let’s just say, wasn’t Mr. Green Jeans, allowing it to fall into desperate disrepair.
Right when he was bringing his beloved Mount Vernon back to life, we called upon him again to be President because he was the only one everyone trusted.
Patriotism trumping home sweet home, he came to New York having to borrow money for his inaugural suit, the fashion plate that he was. No careworn threads for George, he was taking his Oath of Office in sartorial splendor, and that was that.
Though reading about him many times, these facts flashed anew.
I marvel at that, since now I’m even more acquainted with him, our heroic POWs, as well as The Mick.
Here’s a poignant tale I’ll end with. 
When you consider the Civil War’s Battle of Gettysburg is my favorite to read about, I wonder how this escaped me.
In the hours before Pickett’s Charge when close to 2,655 casualties of the Southern Army, many merely boys, were killed, wounded and captured, marching through an open field, they sprawled beneath the trees staring up at the blue July sky, knowing that they were more than likely to not ever see its beauty again.
Yet their love of the south was so great, they marched, 498 to their deaths, with I’ve heard it described as…divine dignity. 
Now I ask you, as a passionate reader, how did I miss that?
Was I drunk?
SB
Nah… don’t be so hard on yourself. I think that is the beauty of re-reading. You catch things you didn’t the first (or in your case, second, third, etc.) time around. Something else grabbed your attention more thoroughly the first time. Or maybe, you were distracted when you read that particular passage.
I’m in awe of those of you, like Marc, who does it, too, who go back and re-read books. Marc says every time he reads Life of Pi, he discovers something else.
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It seems I don’t retain as much as I’d like. Whether it’s common or not, I don’t know. I do read a lot so, my mental files could just be backed up. I’m almost done with The Last Boy and I have to say, I can’t imagine enjoying it the first time in 2006 when it came out, as much as I am now. I feel like I’ve been at a Yankee game, in the 60s, all week, Mickey up at bat. 🙂
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There is that! Sometimes the files up there need to be cleared out 😉
And that’s what’s great. I feel if I try to reread “For Whom the Bells Toll” today, I might even enjoy it. I loathed it when I read it back when.
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It was the only Hemingway because of the dialect I hated. I found it grueling to finish, and I’m a huge Papa fan. Read A Movable Feast every year. The Sun Also Rises, one of my favorite novels.
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Interesting how people of fame are much more than what they are known for. For instance, baseball players are more known for their on-the-field endeavors, not off the field. Same for athletes of all sports, business leaders, entertainers, and the people we know at work.
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That seems to be true. He was so sad Mickey Mantle, never feeling he measured up even though he was The Mick. You wanted to think he was a happy family man, rejoicing in his many blessings, but they seemed to plague him than nourish and enlighten. A shame. Thanks Frank. Always a delight when you write.
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Thanks …. and your writing is always a pleasure to read.
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That means the world Frank, thank you.
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The Mick never imagined he was going to make it past the age of 40, since that’s when his father and uncles had died. He was later quoted as saying that if he’d known he was going to live so long, he would have taken better care of himself.
As for the Killer Angels, reading the book is one thing. Going to the sites and walking after having read them . . . whoa. And then reading the book again. Double whoa. There is a silent agony to the quiet in those fields, I tell you.
Pity old George didn’t live in the time of Blackwell.
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Please expand on that last passage. 😗
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Richard Blackwell, the fashion designer. He would’ve had old George on the cover of GQ. 😉
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Awe. Now I get it. I was thinking of Blackwells Island in the harbor. You say tomato and I say tamato. 🙃
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We both say tuck some mozz and basil in there and lets make a sammy! Haha!
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Where’s that Fedora of yours. Don’t forget it.
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Nevah. 😉
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Millinery is very important. 🙂
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You keep collecting these words and I keep looking for a bigger boat.
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We were talking hats after all Mr. Imma.
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True. There is no dash without haberdashery, so yanno.
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I love that you love words as much as I do. I remember, Bill Hicks did too. When he was bored he’d read the dictionary, a big Websters he had, the kind that made a dent in your lap. As a gift once I gave him a book called, Wicked Words he really loved. Wonder where it is now. sigh
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I can almost hear him thanking you, with that drawl. And what a fun book!
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He was such an influence on me creatively. To be irreverently articulate like he was, has always been a goal, never mastering it quite the way he did, but alas, it can still be heard timeless as it is.
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You have your classic style. It’s a new old fashioned way with smarts, sizzle and of course plenty ‘o cheeky in the mix.
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Thanks Anne. It’s rather heartbreaking, he was so young and sounded so promising as a caring human being. I’m actually thinking of his mother today. It’s still tough for many, even now. Thanks again.
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That’s who you are. So full of compassion and humanity. 🙂
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I’m waiting for what you wrote on Heroes.
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If you listen to him even now, you can see how ahead of his time he was. He also, like the two of us, loved writing. He was all set to go to London to be in a show he wrote with a friend when his illness hit. It was called The Counts, and again, this was way before all the stuff we have now on Netflix, Amazon. He was a trailblazer and then some…a meteor no more. sigh
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It seems that brilliance has precious little defense against mortality’s greedy clutches. When you think about all the works of all those minds that never happened.
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Yeah. Sigh
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And by the way, thinking of you and sending you love and hugs on this day, Miss New York. 🙂
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I was waiting for a train and a fireman in his best formal blues was coming from the memorial. He could barely speak. So wanted to hug him but, alas, grief is so personal.
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It really is. But I understand. It’s as if you want to take some of the weight off these things they carry with them.
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They still call out all the names. It still matters.
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It will never stop mattering. This is their livelihood, come calling with the ultimate sacrifice. And to think how many of those still here would trade places with the ones they lost.
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Brothers they are.
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I just finished The Last Boy and wailed it being so sad at the end. Forgot he got a liver transplant that was more or less wasted on him, the doctors claiming they didn’t know his cancer had spread. Cirrhosis is what my father died of also, from drinking, just like The Mick. Maybe my tears were for him too. He had such talent but felt undeserving, plus acted out because he never fleshed out his childhood traumas like being sexually abused by a relative. OY… A great fucking read.
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The Mick was Superman in human form. A great big hulk of a good looking kid from the heart land who came to the big city and became a legend. But he was never able to escape those ghosts. Those fucking ghosts, they get you every time.
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Have you read The Last Boy? It’s truly a great read. Mantle was like the Huck Finn of baseball. Leavy is a wonderful writer. She also penned, The Big Fella, about The Babe, and Sandy Koufax: A lefty’s Legacy. She’s great, the Mary McGrory of sports writers.
Love the term, heartland. You see corn and wheat, tractors and cows grazing…those peaceful fields of dreams.
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No I haven’t. The last book I read that was Yankee related was Strangers in the Bronx. It’s about the convergence of two icons- Joltin’ Joe and the Mick- in 1951. It was Joe’s last season and Mick’s coming out party.
The Mick could do it all on a baseball field- run, hit for average and hit for power, field. And he was humble as all get out. In all the footage of his home runs, he’d put his head down and start running as soon as he hit the ball . . never mind that the thing was going to land in another zip code.
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You’d like The Last Boy.
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🙂
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Thanks again for sharing these tid bits. They’re always appreciated. I especially liked finding out the info on Washington. I just assumed there was no lack of money. He should have gone on the lecture circuit, ha ha!
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You’re right. He would have been the Bill Clinton of his time…just with a shinier reputation. 🙂
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I’ve read two of these books, both at your recommendation, and loved both of them, so I’m sure the others are great too.
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I’m your friendly librarian, just with an edge. 🙂
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Speaking of drinking,if I remember my after-school history, a very lot of our famous people were, um, into the brew perhaps a bit too often and much. Yes?
Not judging. More simply realizing how much history is barred from school.
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People drank then as they do now. No question.
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