Roger Angell: A Pitcher's Story: Innings With David Cone
In the theater of baseball, the pitcher takes center stage, exalted and exposed on a mound in the middle of the infield, 15 inches above the grass. The Texas Rangers could testify that it's the most crucial position in the game; having beefed up a formidable offense by signing future Hall Of Famer Alex Rodriguez for an unseemly $252 million, the Rangers are languishing at the bottom of their division, an insurmountable 17 games out of first place at press time. Great pitching always trumps great hitting, yet it's also more mysterious and elusive, subject to minor tweaks in mechanics that can spell the difference between a filthy breaking ball on the outside corner and a grapefruit hanging over the plate. Add in the unnatural stress that pitching inflicts on the human arm, which was never meant for such abuses, and it's a miracle that anyone can put together a career in the majors, let alone one as consistently brilliant as David Cone's. A ferociously competitive right-hander with an eclectic menu of pitches, speeds, and arm angles, Cone amassed 184 wins (and counting), four World Series championships, and a Cy Young Award over 15 years with the Royals in Kansas City and the Mets and Yankees in New York. When Roger Angell, a passionate baseball fan who has written eloquently about the sport for The New Yorker for 40 years, convinced the 37-year-old to let Angell follow him around during the 2000 season, neither could have guessed that Cone's steady fortunes would suddenly, disastrously betray him. As a result, A Pitcher's Story turned out to be a much different book than they had planned, but perhaps a deeper one, too, touched with the maturity and perspective instilled by struggle and loss. For his part, Angell expected Cone to win as always, but he understood the guile required of veteran arms, when "winning [is] work, with hard days and nights to get through, and times when the fastball is snoozing and the slider has gone off to the dentist or to the races." A Pitcher's Story begins, charitably enough, with Cone's perfect game on Yogi Berra Day at Yankee Stadium in 1999, only the 16th in major-league history. Throughout, Angell gracefully and lovingly interweaves his past triumphs (a 19-strikeout game, a 166-pitch shutout, total dominance in World Series play) with the search for his missing cutter and a small taste of late-season redemption. From chapter to chapter, past and present merge with a fluid continuity that's unique to the game, and that welcomes a writer of Angell's abilities, whose profound connections can't be quantified in box scores. With equal aplomb, Angell describes Cone's formative bond with his tough, blue-collar father; his minor-league days, when he subsisted on a diet of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and Old Milwaukee; and the vivid blow-by-blow of his transcendent stretches on the field. Cone ended the 2000 season with a 4-14 record, a whopping 6.91 ERA, and a Yankee ballclub that had no real interest in re-signing him as a free agent. But A Pitcher's Story ends on a more bittersweet note, accepting the humiliations of an off year in the scheme of a great career, and finally arriving at a richer understanding of the man and the game.