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(More customer reviews)In the 1930's through the 1950's a casual reader could pick up a newspaper and read a sports column that would grace any of the slick weekly sports magazines of today. Writers like Red Smith, Grantland Rice, Hype Igoe and Damon Runyan ran their fingers over the keyboards of their typewriters on a daily basis. Every city with a decent circulation had a worthy sportswriter. The inverted pyramid of reporting did not apply here, The end product was a feast of imagery.
Paul Gallico sits on few people's list of the great sportswriters of this era. Unlike Red Smith and Grantland Rice, the reader does not feel as if he/she is hovering over the shoulder of the subject. There isn't the same whiff of intimacy, as is painted by the former.
Gallico describes the setting and the subject, and inserts his opinions more often. It works, just as a different type of experience.
This is an elegaic tribute to his exit from the sports pages. He was either reassigned or opted to cover a different aspect of news.
He loved boxing, and his writing about Jack Dempsey, Gene Tunney and Joe Louis brings the reader back to a wondrous time in sports.
Bobby Jones was a magician with a club in his hand, and here, as well he makes Jones into a human God of the links.
I enjoyed his opinions and descriptions of the women athletes of the times. He could not of brought his opinions as honestly in todays world, and that is part of this book's charm, as well as its sadness.
He describes a different world of sports, as well as a different world. Although he championed the "negro", he laments the cruel and unfair treatment of the black man. It can be painful to take in.
Gallico tries to envision the future of sports, and this is fascinating. Some of it is on target, and you can almost see him pining to live long enough to see how it all comes out.
The sports pages would have come alive if Gallico and his peers had lived long enough to describe Muhammud Ali, or Bob Gibson, or Jim Brown. Red Smith did, but most of his prose had been used up by that time.
Gallico left us a treasure, and for the true sports historian, a read that can not be missed.
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For fourteen years during the golden age of sports, Paul Gallico was one of America's ace sportswriters. He saw them all-the stars and the hams, the immortals and the phonies in boxing, wrestling, baseball, football, golf, tennis, and every other field of muscular endeavor in which men and women try to break hearts and necks for cash or glory. Then in 1937, at the height of his game (and the height of the payroll), Gallico suddenly and famously called it quits and left the New York Daily News. But before he departed the world of sports, he left his legions of fans one last hurrah: a collection of his best sports essays called, appropriately, Farewell to Sport.
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