The game that is as American as apple pie gets another quintessentially American treatment: comic books. Can the graphic novel format break down what some consider to be a difficult sport to enjoy visually? It tdoes its best in many areas, but a preponderance of text may turn readers off.
Cover Art by Tomm Coker and C.P. SmithWritten by Alex Irvine
Illustrated, Colored, and Lettered by Tomm Coker and C.P. SmithThis graphic novel steps up to the plate and covers all the bases in illustrating the origin of America’s national pastime, presenting a complete look at the beginnings (both real and legendary), developments, triumphs, and tragedies of baseball. It also breaks down the cultural impact and significance of the sport both in America and overseas (including Japan, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic), from the early days of America to the flying W outside Wrigley Field in 2016.
Four bases, nine innings, three strikes, three outs, 162 games. The great American Pastime is a game of numbers. It’s also a game of deliberate, methodical, action – – not as fast paced as its other “Big 4” American counterparts (American football, hockey, basketball). And many a comic book nerd has been disappointed at best and irate at worst when the silhouette of Wrigley Field or Yankee Stadium takes the place of Wally West or Oliver Queen on the TV for the evening. (There is still a tapestry of curses hanging somewhere over New England from the few times thus far in 2018 the Yankees have postponed my boyfriend’s CW shows.) But as much as baseball divides folks, it also brings them together. Find me one person not even just the slightest bit happy in 2016 when the Cubs ended that 108 year drought without a World Series. Many a game also brought comfort and normalcy to a grieving nation after September 11th.
Now, baseball and comic books are not a new marriage of American pastimes. The two have had a shared history for over a century, both as primary subject (“Jr. Jays’ Guide to the Universe,” about the Toronto Blue Jays) and as a secondary subject (Hulk takes to the minor leagues in “Incredible Hulk” #435). Alex Irvine’s work is the first (at least in my research, please let me know of others in the comments) to combine the two to provide a large, holistic look at the game’s origins in the 19th century through to present day.
This medium works well when it has a singular focus, such as a graphic novel biography of Roberto Clemente or the fictional “The Golem’s Mighty Swing.” When it comes to tying together 150+ years of history, many threads of which deserve a graphic novel treatment of their own, the work falls just short.
Every page in “The Comic Book Story of Baseball” is busy. Not “busy” in the sense of movement and kinetic energy, but busy in the sense that there is little negative space. Where there isn’t artwork on a page there is text, and quite a bit of it. Contrast this with the last book I reviewed, where there were several wordless panels that advanced plot without uttering a single word, and it’s a discordant difference. Alex Irvine’s passion for the sport shows in his extensive research; I’ve been a baseball fan for over 30 years and I still left learning a new fact or two about my favorite sport. With this plethora of words page after page, this feels less like graphic novel and more like novel with some pictures thrown in for good measure. The author has a companion website for the book with chapter notes and more, which makes me wonder if this would have benefited from being longer than the published 176 pages – – more room to explore histories of baseball outside the United States, the scandals, the teams that were dynasties, the role of changing media formats on the game. Editorial decisions are tough to make, and there were topics that deserved more than the superficial treatment they received here.
But would a linear treatment of the history of the sport be interesting to read? I recently visited the Brooklyn Museum’s David Bowie Is exhibit, which charted Bowie’s career in thematic elements rather than a straight chronology, and appreciated this approach to curation, as I was able to draw connections and deeper love of Ziggy Stardust’s vast career. Perhaps finding those hard stops to topics that could have taken long detours forces the reader not only to dig deeper on their own time, but to draw connections between past and present, people and themes. And when the book does veer into that linear progression, Irvine breaks it up with trivia asides (Moe Berg, catcher and spy?) or biographical sketches of the greats (Babe Ruth, Ted Williams) of the era being explored.
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While there is an abundance of text, it doesn’t always fight with the art. Irvine and his team do their homework in using space effectively so that neither one crowds out the other. Proportion is every panel’s friend in this book, and everyone gets along nicely. Tomm Coker and C.P. Smith take their influences in art style from 1950s comics, “Watchmen” and Rick Veitch’s “The One” – – small panels with careful, thoughtful, almost intense attention to detail. Depictions of players look almost photographic in nature, and color brings depth and perspective where and when it is needed. Coker and Smith also know when to pull back in detail – – team logos are recognizable but not perfect recreations, perhaps to avoid any copyright infringement with Major League Baseball. (Though it should be noted that the more contemporary logos, such as those of the Colorado Rockies and Florida/Miami Marlins look to be faithful replications.) Panels showing the plaques for the inaugural Baseball Hall of Fame class have just enough line work to replicate their real life counterparts, but not so much that the eye is drawn to the text on the plaques over the text on the page explaining what they are – – words and pictures not in competition, but in collaboration.
Sometimes, the proportions fail – – take one full page spread announcing the move of New York’s Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants to the West Coast, a decision that broke hearts and changed the fabric of the game. The page borrows from the headlines of New York papers announcing the move, with depictions of ballparks with torn edges hammering the metaphor of the heart and soul of New York city ripped in two. That was all this spread needed to tell the story – – but it wasn’t where things stopped. Text boxes that arguably provide useful context obscure and deflect the emotion (in one case, even obscuring part of the headline). This is a case of where less should have been more.
Several particular panels echo the importance of pictures being worth a thousand words. One appears the early integration era – – a panel centered on the Brooklyn Dodgers team logos with players hands’ touching the center. One hand is brown, the others are white. Unity and difference together in one photo, but the former winning out over the latter. Coker and Smith have fun with the story of the infamous Disco Demolition Night promotion in 1979, using broken records to spell out the word “disco” – – the only things that should have been broken that night, but weren’t. The story of Dock Ellis, who once claimed to throw a no-hitter while under the influence of LSD, features a fluid, surrealist portrait of Ellis against a brightly colored background with subtle inclusion of the chemical diagram for LSD – – visual representation of one’s mental state under the influence.
Much like the game it traces within its 176 pages, “The Comic Book Story of Baseball” is slow in pacing, presenting a great deal for the eye to absorb, touching topics that themselves deserve their own full length treatment. As a self-contained work, this bit off more than it could chew. This may have been better served as a series of books – – either graphic novels or a miniseries like Ryan Dunlavey and Fred Van Lente’s “Comic Book History of Comics.” Alex Irvine certainly has the research to expand this to a larger series, along with topics that have yet to be covered: the effect of the digital age on the game, up-and-comers like Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton, baseball as a source of healing and cultural bridge in Puerto Rico and Cuba, respectively. The best I can do is repeat the phrase that many a losing team’s fans have said in October (and as a New York Mets fan for 30+ years, I’ve said more than once) – – “wait until next year.”
