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JOE DI MAGGIO
TRIBUTE
Joe DiMaggio was
always a great friend of the Italian Tribune. In 1997, he was the Grand
Marshal of the Italian Tribune Columbus Day Parade. His contribution to
American society - as an athlete, a celebrity, an a role model - has
rarely been equalled.
Joe DiMaggio Obituary
The Life of Joe DiMaggio
Editorial: "Remembering DiMaggio"
Joe DiMaggio Obituary
From Yankee Stadium in the Bronx to
Legends Field in Florida, from California to Cooperstown, Joe DiMaggio's friends and fans
paid tribute to the man acclaimed as baseball's greatest living player. Sadly, but not
unexpectedly, the reign ended early Monday, just after midnight, when DiMaggio died at
home following a five-month battle with lung cancer and pneumonia.
A funeral will be held on March 11
in DiMaggio's native Northern California, with burial to follow in the San Francisco area.
Meanwhile, eulogies poured in from ballfields and beyond with remembrances of the man who
defined elegance between the foul lines and class everywhere else. He will be remembered
for flawlessly playing the most glamorous position in baseball on the most glamorous team
in sports.
"He was to people all over the
world what a baseball player was supposed to be like," said former Dodgers manager
Tommy Lasorda. "If you said to God, 'Create someone who was what a baseball player
should be,' God would have created Joe DiMaggio."
To many, Joltin' Joe's death at age
84 marked the end of an era. The Yankees center fielder captivated and inspired a nation
coping with the Depression and World War II, and his fame endured and even grew after
retirement in 1951. More importantly, he was a figure to whom Italian Americans and other
ethnic minorities looked as a positive role model. "The reverence for him was
unsurpassed," said Hall of Fame spokesman Jeff Idelson.
American flags at Yankee Stadium,
including one in left field's hallowed Monument Park, were lowered to half-staff. So was
the Hall of Fame flag in Cooperstown, N.Y., where a wreath was placed around DiMaggio's
plaque. The Yankees announced that they will wear a black "5," DiMaggio's
uniform number, on the left sleeve of their jerseys during the 1999 season.
DiMaggio spent his final years in a
waterfront residence, living alone until he became sick. He spent 99 days in a hospital
before going home on January 19. He died barely one month shy of the Yankees' home opener,
where he hoped to throw out the first ball. His last public appearance was the September
27 ceremony at Yankee Stadium at which he was presented with replicas of nine World Series
rings that had been stolen from him years earlier.
At DiMaggio's bedside when he died
were brother Dominick, a former major league outfielder; two grandchildren; and two
friends. His estranged relationship with his only child was reflected in his last will and
testament. A trust fund will pay $20,000 a year to Joseph Paul DiMaggio Jr., who works in
a Northern California junkyard and lives in a trailer. The bequest appeared to be the
smallest gift in the document, which by comparison established trust funds of $500,000
apiece for two great-granddaughters.
An immigrant Italian fisherman's
son, DiMaggio spent his entire 13-year career with the Yankees. He played for ten pennant
winners and nine World Series champions, batting .325 lifetime with 361 home runs and only
369 strikeouts. He won three American League Most Valuable Player awards, appeared in 11
All-Star games, and entered the Hall of Fame in 1955.
A handsome, quiet man who cherished
his privacy, DiMaggio nonetheless ascended to the top rank of popular culture when he was
briefly married to Marilyn Monroe in the mid-1950s. The reluctant celebrity blossomed from
a mere ballplayer into an American icon who would be cited in the works of Ernest
Hemingway and Paul Simon.
DiMaggio's place in baseball
history was secure as early as 1941, when he hit in 56 consecutive games - one of the most
enduring records in sports. That he hit in another 16 straight games after the streak was
stopped - making his hit streak nearly the equivalent of a half season - is equally
incredible. A popular song of the day reflected the common sentiment: "Joe, Joe
DiMaggio, we want you on our side."
On the 50th anniversary of the
streak, DiMaggio expressed surprise he still held the record. "There are a lot of
great ballplayers," he said. "One day, someone's going to come along and break
it. But I've been saying that for 50 years."
There were other records, and there
would have been even more had he not volunteered for the Army during World War II. He
spent 2 1/2 years in the Army's physical training program for air cadets. In 1969,
DiMaggio was named as the greatest living ballplayer - a title he carried proudly for
nearly three decades.
The Life of Joe DiMaggio
Perhaps it is fitting that Joe
DiMaggio died during the last year of the twentieth century for he is truly a figure of
the past, a reminder of simpler times, a dignified personification of the fabled American
dream. More importantly, he has been a symbol from whom generations of Italian Americans
have received the strength to battle prejudice and overcome stereotypes. DiMaggio was one
of the first persons selected by the editors of the Italian Tribune News to be
honored in the newspaper’s series of tributes to the most influential Italian
Americans of the twentieth century. Originally, his tribute was to be published in October
– the month when he starred in so many World Series, redefining the terms
"hero" and "legend" in the process. However, after a five-month battle
with lung cancer and pneumonia, DiMaggio passed away shortly after midnight on March 8,
less than a month from the April 9 date he had circled on his calendar – Opening Day
at Yankee Stadium, where he planned to throw out the first pitch. We offer this
retrospective now as a way to say farewell to the man who played baseball with
unparalleled elegance while helping to redefine the country’s perception of Italian
Americans.
"Growing Up in San
Francisco"
Giuseppe Paolo DiMaggio Jr.–
known to the world as Joseph Paul DiMaggio – was born on November 14, 1914, in
Martinez, California, a tiny fishing village 25 miles northeast of San Francisco. The
eighth of nine children to be born to Giuseppe and Rosalie DiMaggio, immigrants from a
small village near Palermo, Sicily, Joe would be only one of three brothers who would play
center field in major league baseball. Vince and Dom DiMaggio would also star in the big
leagues – each was named to multiple All-Star games. "Zio Pepe," as
Joe’s father was called, worked the waters of San Francisco as a crab fisherman for
forty years. Thinking that baseball was a frivolous waste of time, he wanted all of his
boys to become fishermen like himself. Only his two oldest sons, Mike and Tom, would end
up working on the fishing boats.
The eleven-member DiMaggio clan
– Giuseppe and Rosalie, five brothers (Mike, Tom, Vince, Joe, and Dom), and four
sisters (Marie, Mae, Nelly, and Frances) – lived on Taylor Street in the North
Beach-Telegraph Hill section of San Francisco. Although baseball violated Giuseppe’s
work ethic, Rosalie would cover for the boys when they came home with torn pants and
encouraged them to play. He so misunderstood the game that during Joe’s first spring
training with the Yankees, he sent him a telegram: "Come home, Joe. The fish are
running. Give up this game of baseball. It is for loafers."
Joe had no idea what he wanted to
be except that he was sure it wasn’t a fisherman – especially after he quit
Galileo High School (where he had shown a disdain for academics, to put it mildly) and
wound up picking over crab meat for three dollars a day while working in a cannery. Joe
often talked about his early days and his aversion to fishing: "I began playing
baseball on a vacant lot in San Francisco with the other kids in my neighborhood when I
was about ten years old. In those days, I preferred almost anything to working on my
father’s fishing boat or cleaning it up when the fishing day was over. I hated the
smell. My father looked on baseball in much the same way as I did on fishing." Years
later Vince would say that Joe also had a bit of trouble with seasickness.
In 1932, Vince played for the San
Francisco Seals, a Pacific Coast League team and one of the most storied minor league
franchises in baseball history. Vince convinced the team to give Joe a try at the end of
the season. Playing shortstop, Joe immediately proved he belonged by stroking a double and
a triple in his first two games. Coincidentally, Joe’s first day as a Seal –
October 1, 1932 – is the same day as Babe Ruth’s famous "Called Shot"
in the World Series. Joe remembered 1932 before he played ball: "Early in the season
I was watching a game at Seals Stadium by peeking through a crack under the rightfield
fence while lying flat on my stomach. My eyes were bloodshot from windblown peanut
shells."
The next year, as an 18-year-old
rookie, DiMaggio showed signs of greatness. Between seasons, the Missions (San
Francisco’s other team) tried to sign Joe, but his older brother Tom helped him
negotiate a contract in a meeting with team owner Charley Graham. He signed for what at
the time was a decent amount of money: $225 per month. Unfortunately, the player he
replaced at the end of 1932 – shortstop Augie Galan – returned in 1933, leaving
him without a position. That is, until manager Ike Caveney ordered him to play in
rightfield. Having never played the outfield, Joe was as surprised as anyone by the move.
Whether as a shortstop – where
he had a reputation for being a bit scatter-armed – or as a fledgling outfielder, Joe
had few problems with the bat. In 1933 he hit in 61 consecutive games for the Seals –
a remarkable achievement at any level and a precursor to his major league record eight
years in the future. (Neither of DiMaggio’s streaks are the all-time record. That
distinction is held by Joe Wilhoit, who hit in 69 straight games with the Wichita Western
League Club in 1919.) He hit .340 in 1933 and was continuing at that pace in 1934 until he
injured his knee so severely that many clubs considered him "damaged goods."
However, convinced by scout Bill Essick and baseball doctor Doc Spencer that he would be
fine, the Yankees bought him from the Seals after the 1934 season for a paltry $25,000 and
a few mediocre players. The Yankees left him with the Seals for the 1935 season to develop
his skills as an outfielder. However, they insisted that he be shifted from rightfield to
centerfield. Joe was enormously popular as a Seal. Even then, he carried himself with the
same quiet dignity that would become his trademark public persona later in life. According
to a 1933 story in The Sporting News, DiMaggio was known as "Deadpan
Joe" because "his face remains expressionless while he slams the ball to all
parts of the field."
"A Yankee Sensation"
New York’s love affair with
Joe DiMaggio began in 1936. A shy, 20-year-old, he worried about the future: "I had
never been east of the Rockies when we drove from San Francisco to St. Petersburg,
Florida, in 1936 for my first spring training session with the Yankees. I was riding with
two fellow San Franciscans, Frankie Crosetti and Tony Lazzeri, both already established
Yankee stars. We got along well, but I had a worry they didn’t have – making the
team."
Joe immediately excited Yankee fans
as well as his teammates with his timely hitting and explosive throwing arm..
Sportswriters of the day saw something special in him, as well. James M. Kahn, in a 1936
piece, lamented Lou Gehrig’s misfortune of having his career bookended by two
legendary players: "Now that the Babe has gone, leaving an opportunity for Lou to
step out boldly on his own, a new figure, rookie Joe DiMaggio, is swinging up over the
baseball horizon and threatening to obscure him again."
After a freak injury sustained
while using a diathermia machine on his foot delayed his debut until May 3, DiMaggio began
his rookie campaign on a tear and, before the season was over, he had set the Yankees
rookie home run record (29), hit two home runs in one inning, led the league in assists
(22) and triples (15), been featured on the cover of Time Magazine, and been
voted one of the ten best-dressed men in the United States. He also became the first
rookie to play in an All-Star game, although he made an error in the outfield and was
hitless in five at bats.
Many hailed DiMaggio’s season
as the greatest ever by a first-year player. He also rejuvenated the turnstiles –
becoming the game’s biggest attraction since Babe Ruth’s heydays. The Yankees
won 102 games during Joe’s first season – winning the American League by nearly
twenty games - and went on to defeat the New York Giants in six games in the World Series.
Unlike other years, the team’s success had not been expected – not a single
writer had picked them to finish first during spring training. Joe was widely credited for
being the winning difference on a team that was not a clear-cut pennant contender.
With 46 home runs and a .346
batting average, Joe helped the Yankees win another 102 games and the American League
pennant in 1937. He remembered all the hoopla surrounding his power outburst: "On
August 1, I hit my 31st homer of the season, which put me ahead of the 1927
pace of Babe Ruth, the year he hit 60. I didn’t keep up the Babe’s pace,
however, but did end with 46 to win the home run crown that year." He more than
justified the faith Yankees owner, Colonel Jacob Ruppert, had shown in breaking his rule
of no multi-year contracts. After 1936, Joe – along with his mother and brother Tom
– negotiated a three-year contract with the Yankees. The Yankees were strict in
protecting their investment, however. Business manager Ed Barrows barred DiMaggio from
playing basketball during the off-season. DiMaggio was to receive $50 per minute played
plus a $500 bonus.
The year 1937 was special to
DiMaggio for a number of reasons. The team won another World Series over the Giants, this
time in only five games. Joe hit his first World Series home run in the fifth and final
game. He developed for the first time his now-famous wide leg/short stride batting stance
– a stance he credited for allowing him to wait longer before swinging, thereby
reducing the number of bad pitches he tried to hit. Also in 1937, he hit safely for the
first time in the All-Star game. And, in true matinee idol fashion, he starred with Kay
Thompson in the 1937 movie Manhattan Merry-Go-Round, the only motion picture he
ever made. The film also starred Gene Autry, Leo Carrillo, Max Terhune, Smiley
Burnette,
Cab Calloway, Luis Alberni, and Louis Prima.
"The Business of
Baseball"
DiMaggio’s first real taste of
baseball’s inequitable labor practices came in 1938. Feeling he deserved a raise for
the tremendous season he had in 1937, he held out for a fair contract. The fans, deeming
him greedy, turned against him. Few understood the tenuous financial position of the
players during those days. Joe’s placid demeanor didn’t help endear him to the
fans, some of whom mistakenly took his quiet reserve as being sullen and unfeeling.
Eventually the contract problem was solved and Joe returned to the field, where he hit
.324 for the season and led the Yankees to their third straight American League Pennant.
In the World Series, the team swept the Chicago Cubs in four games. Although the fans were
slow to come around, by the end of the year they were once again cheering heartily for the
great Yankee Clipper. Demonstrating his popularity, he was featured in an advertisement
for Wheaties cereal. The year did have one lasting sad note: the death of Yankees owner
Colonel Ruppert.
1939 was another roller coaster
year for DiMaggio. He married actress Dorothy Arnold at his North Beach neighborhood
church – Ss. Peter and Paul. The couple would later divorce (1944), but Arnold would
give birth to Joe’s only son. Eight games into the season he tore muscles in his
right leg, causing him to miss about a month of games. When he returned, the Yankees were
already well on their way to another pennant. In the All-Star game held at Yankee Stadium,
he hit his first All-Star home run. He also won his first American League Most Valuable
Player award and led the league with a .381 batting average – the highest mark of his
career. In only 120 games, he hit 30 home runs and drove in 126, while helping the Yankees
win 106 games. Although the Yankees won another World Series – beating Cincinnati
– the joy of the season was tempered by Lou Gehrig’s tragic illness.
Joe’s history of spring
training misfortune continued in 1940 when he injured his right knee sliding into second
base in an exhibition game against the Dodgers at Ebbets Field. For the fourth time in
five years, he missed Opening Day. When he returned in mid-May he led the Yankees on
another chase for the American League pennant, but they would fall two games short. Joe
enjoyed another great statistical year: 31 home runs, 133 RBI, and a .352 batting average.
The year also saw the first of many Joe DiMaggio Days at Yankee Stadium, with Mayor
Fiorello LaGuardia presenting Joe with the prizes that went along with his MVP award from
the previous season.
"A Magical Season"
For as long as baseball is played,
1941 will be treasured as one of its very finest seasons. Only in a magical year would Ted
Williams – after hitting .406 and leading the league in home runs – not win the
Most Valuable Player award. That honor went to Joe DiMaggio in recognition of perhaps the
most unbreakable of all baseball records – hitting safely in 56 consecutive games.
The streak began with a single on May 14 off pitcher Ed Smith of Chicago and lasted for
two months – until Cleveland’s third baseman Ken Keltner helped end it with two
outstanding plays. After the game in which the streak was stopped, DiMaggio hit safely in
another 16 games – meaning that he hit safely in 72 of 73 games over a period of
three months.
The streak, which doesn’t
include DiMaggio’s hit in the All-Star game, cemented his status as one of
America’s greatest celebrities. He became such a sensation that the Les Brown
Orchestra recorded "Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio," a song that became a huge radio
hit. Joe also became a national posterboy for Louisville Slugger bats. Even the famous
"Casey at the Bat" poem was rewritten with DiMaggio in mind. Joe, in typical
fashion, said only that he was sorry the streak was over and that he would continue to
concentrate on winning ballgames. The streak, now nearly 60 years old, remains one of
America’s most respected sports feats.
The season, which was also the
rookie season of Yankee legend Phil Rizzuto, ended with the Yankees winning another World
Series. The victims were the Brooklyn Dodgers. Many recall the pivotal game in which the
Yankees appeared to have lost until Dodger catcher Mickey Owens dropped a third strike,
leading to the winning Yankee rally. DiMaggio hit .357 for the season and had more than 30
home runs for the fifth straight season. His selection as MVP capped off a truly
remarkable season.
After the mania of the previous
year, 1942 was quite a letdown. DiMaggio had some of his worst career numbers – a
.305 batting average with only 21 home runs – and the Yankees lost the World Series
in five games despite having won 103 games during the regular season. Once again, DiMaggio
fought with the front office, who wanted to cut his salary despite his magnificent 1941
season. Ultimately, he received a small raise, but the damage was done. Years of conflict
with the Yankees front office had left him feeling disillusioned and bitter.
"A Uniform of a Different
Stripe"
In February 1943, DiMaggio gave up
his $43,500 Yankee salary and prepared to receive the $50 per month paid to enlisted men
in the United States Army. Although he enlisted to serve as a physical trainer for Army
Air Force cadets, he -like many prominent athletes - played baseball during most of his
military tour of duty. He played with the Santa Ana Air Base team in California and the
Seventh Army Air Force team in Hawaii. Unfortunately, stomach ulcers curtailed much of his
activity on baseball fields during those days. The ulcers were a cause of much concern
– there was even a rumor of stomach cancer. Many observers wondered if he should have
been accepted into the service with what was a well-known ailment.
Joe became very concerned with the
plight of fellow servicemen during his years in the Army. DiMaggio was released from the
Army Air Forces’ Don Ce-Sar convalescence hospital on September 14, 1945. Before his
release, reports said that he would return to the Yankees immediately after receiving a
medical discharge. DiMaggio denied these reports: "I’d give anything to be able
to take the field with the Yanks in the American League race. But if I were discharged
tomorrow, I would not return to the club. I would not play ball with the war still
on."
The war was particularly painful
for the DiMaggio family. Even though Joe had enlisted voluntarily in the Army, his parents
were forced to leave North Beach by the American government. As Italian Americans, they
were considered security risks as long as the country was at war with Italy and Benito
Mussolini. Despite reparations made to other ethnic groups who were mistreated during the
war, the United States has never apologized for its treatment of loyal Italian Americans.
"Post-War Baseball"
Although he was still among the
game’s elite players, even winning the 1947 MVP award and guiding his team to four
more World Series championships, DiMaggio never was quite the same ballplayer after his
return from the Army. Gradual as the decline was, its existence was irrefutable. As with
many great players, DiMaggio’s fate was controlled not by the erosion of his skills,
but by the erosion of his body. Oft-injured even as a youth, his body would eventually
slow him and render him mortal.
Returning to the Yankees in 1946,
Joe fought through a variety of nagging injuries and suffered through a decidedly subpar
season – batting only .290 with less than 100 RBI. The team performed as well as
DiMaggio, finishing third, while winning only 87 games. The next year, he was injured
again and missed yet another Opening Day. Although his batting average rose to .315, both
his home runs and RBI totals lagged well below his career averages. Through sheer
determination, he earned his third MVP award. The Yankees finished first and went on to
win another World Series, again beating the Dodgers. This Series was memorable in that it
was the first televised World Series and the first World Series with a black player
(Jackie Robinson). Also, Game Five featured Al Gionfreddo’s amazing catch of
DiMaggio’s potential game-winning, Series-clinching home run and Joe’s
subsequent uncharacteristic emotional outburst – kicking the dirt near second base.
DiMaggio enjoyed a return to form
in 1948. Not only did he sign the second biggest Yankee contract ever, he led the American
League in both home runs (39) and RBI (155), while hitting .320. All the news was not
good, however, as the Yankees finished in third place and DiMaggio suffered yet another
injury – a painful bone spur in his right heel that required surgery and severely
hampered him for two years. In 1949, DiMaggio became the first $100,000 player and
although he played in only 76 games, he provided the team with a great spark when he was
healthy. He made a legendary return in June against the Red Sox, hitting four home runs
and knocking in nine runs as the Yanks swept the three-game series. After winning the
pennant on the season’s final day, the Yankees defeated the Dodgers again in the
World Series. At yet another DiMaggio Day, Joe uttered his now-famous line: "Thank
the Lord for making me a Yankee." Casting a pall over the season, however, was the
death of Joe’s father.
The last good season of
DiMaggio’s career was 1950. His statistics were excellent and he led the team to
another World Series championship, sweeping Philadelphia. Unfortunately, after proclaiming
himself fit after an off-season of exercise and his mother’s cooking, his body
betrayed him again. He suffered through extended batting slumps and, although still a
wonderful outfielder, he was obviously not what he once was. The Yankees even tried him
for a game at first base – an unsuccessful experiment.
His final year, 1951, found Joe in
the middle of a budding Yankee dynasty, fueled by a new crop of players – most
notably Yogi Berra, Phil Rizzuto, Vic Raschi, and Whitey Ford. And, Mickey Mantle was
being groomed as his replacement. During the season, much of which saw DiMaggio struggling
at the plate, he had an increasingly hostile relationship with the press. Sadly,
Joe’s mother died in June. The Yankees defeated the Giants to win another World
Series – their ninth in ten tries during DiMaggio’s career. In his last at-bat
as a major league player, he hit a double off Giant pitcher Larry Jansen.
"Saying Goodbye"
On December 11, after a
barnstorming tour in Japan during which he was feted with a parade, DiMaggio made the
inevitable announcement that his career was over. Joe spent some time with the Yankees
doing interviews after his retirement. On January 14, 1954, he married Marilyn Monroe at
San Francisco’s City Hall. DiMaggio was 39; Monroe was 27. Their marriage ended in
divorce only nine months later. Their lifestyles were simply incompatible. They remained
friends after their divorce and DiMaggio supervised her funeral arrangements in 1962.
Inducted into the Baseball Hall of
Fame in 1955, DiMaggio has remained a profound mystique long after his retirement. The
Simon and Garfunkel song "Mrs. Robinson" asked "Where have you gone, Joe
DiMaggio?" paying homage to him as a symbol from a better time. For two years,
1968-1969, Joe served as a vice president for community relations and an assistant coach
for the Oakland Athletics. He was named as the "Greatest Living Ballplayer" in
1969, an honor he treasured for nearly thirty years. He was a frequent participator in
Old-Timers Games and became a beloved figure at Yankee Stadium. His presence would remind
everyone of the teams’ glory days.
Joe became known to younger
generations as the spokesman for "Mr. Coffee" and a few other products. In 1987,
he underwent heart pacemaker implant surgery. The next year, he again went under the
knife, this time to repair an abdominal aneurysm. The new children’s wing of Memorial
Hospital in Hollywood, Florida, was christened as the Joe DiMaggio Children’s
Hospital. Joe’s final public appearance was at a tribute in his honor at Yankee
Stadium on September 27, 1998. Two weeks later he was in the hospital. After a three-month
stay in which he nearly died following battles with lung cancer and pneumonia, he was
released, only to pass away on March 8. His death was mourned around the world.
Remembering DiMaggio:
Ballplayer, Role Model, Gentleman
By transcending his profession to
become a cultural phenomenon, Joe DiMaggio secured for himself a special place in history.
Like a very select group of athletes – only Babe Ruth, Muhammad Ali, and Michael
Jordan come immediately to mind – DiMaggio is the product of an improbable
combination of rare talent and an irresistible quality of character.
In countless eulogies since his
passing, words such as "legend," "hero," and "gentleman"
have been used to describe Joe DiMaggio. Too often, these terms are bandied about
carelessly in descriptions of people who have not earned them. Using them in this reckless
manner, cheapens their meaning every time they are applied to those whose legacies merit
such lavish praise. However, the dictionary has not yet been written that contains enough
words to fully articulate the many layers of the DiMaggio persona and the universal
adoration that was heaped upon him.
The legacy of DiMaggio can be
separated into three distinct categories. The first, unquestionably, is DiMaggio the
ballplayer – an unparalleled blending of speed, power, elegance, instinct, and
intelligence. Next, there is DiMaggio the cultural icon. One question remains: to whom
will the Italian American community turn in his absence? Finally, there is DiMaggio the
gentleman. Rarely does someone survive his "15 minutes" of fame without a
blemish; DiMaggio survived eight decades.
Pen Sketch of Joe
DiMaggio
No greater
effort than a breeze that blows
Across the field when some fly ball is struck.
A drifting phantom where the long smash goes,
That has no helping teammate known as luck.
No desperate
stab – no wild one-handed catch,
Few ringing cheers that churn the summer air
A shift – a turn – a movement none can match,
The ball drifts down – DiMaggio is there.
Ty Cobb has
ruled – and Ruth has sung his tune –
Tris Speaker was a melody in rime –
DiMaggio – you won’t forget him soon –
Here is the master artist of our time.
-- Grantland Rice
Of DiMaggio, his most beloved
teammates and his most ardent opponents agreed: he was on the short list of greatest
players ever to play the game. His was a talent that united generations of baseball
enthusiasts. To see him float, seemingly without effort, across the vast expanse of Yankee
Stadium’s "Death Valley" was to see an artist brushing colored oils across
a canvas in some brilliant, previously unimagined, vision. Some were faster. Some were
stronger. But no one played the outfield in such a way as to make even the most seasoned
spectator or grizzled sportswriter believe they were seeing it played correctly for the
first time.
It has been said that DiMaggio
never made a diving catch. The spectacular became commonplace when confronted by his
unfathomable ability to combine flawless positioning with a sense of timing precise enough
to make the Swiss green with envy. Do mistake "seemingly effortless" as meaning
without passion. In his case, "seemingly effortless" more closely resembles the
battles of the salmon swimming upstream or the butterfly floating against a gentle breeze
– extreme determination plus efficient movement equaling "seemingly
effortless" beauty.
Teammates were often amazed at how
disciplined he was. More remarkable than his 56-game hitting streak was his home run to
strikeout ratio. By hitting 361 home runs with only 369 strikeouts, he is the only player
in history to hit more than 300 home runs while striking out fewer than 400 times.
Observers also marveled at his intensity. Often while batting, DiMaggio concentrated so
fervently that sweat would form on his forehead and the veins in his neck would bulge.
Perhaps the finest compliment paid to DiMaggio came from someone who knew a fair spot
about batting a pitched ball, longtime rival Ted Williams, who said: "I wish I could
hit like that guy."
"Mrs.
Robinson"
Heaven holds a
place for those who pray.
Joltin’ Joe has left and gone away.
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
-- Paul Simon
Now turning their "lonely
eyes" to memories of DiMaggio is the Italian American community, for whom he was more
than a ballplayer...he was a role model. In the eyes of Italian immigrants, he embodied
the American dream. The son of immigrants, their work ethic instilled in him the mores a
nation admired. Even as his father was being herded into an internment camp – a
result of not obtaining legal citizenship – Joe was enlisting in the Army, willing to
do his part in defending a country that had labeled his blood as traitorous. DiMaggio
created a rare coupling: someone whom the children admired and wanted to emulate and
someone whom their parents felt was an appropriate role model. He bridged a chasm between
generations of Italian Americans for whom positive role models were scarce.
Even in his position, DiMaggio was
not immune to ethnic stereotypes. Known as "Dago" to his teammates, DiMaggio
accepted the moniker, not as a malicious slur, but as a sign of the ignorance of the
times. Often sportswriters referred to him as "Giuseppe." While this was
actually his real name, a subtle message was being delivered – a reminder that he was
not really one of "them." Most upsetting were slurs in national magazines such
as Life, which printed this bigoted statement early in his career: "Instead
of olive oil or smelly bear grease DiMaggio keeps his hair slick with water. He never
reeks of garlic and prefers chicken chow mein to spaghetti."
Confronted with this prejudice,
DiMaggio – by holding himself to the highest of standards - forced America to alter
its perception of Italian Americans. Even with his influence, however, the society
DiMaggio leaves behind is not yet free of prejudice. Americans – especially Italian
Americans – who support shows like The Sopranos and movies like Analyze
This soil the legacy of DiMaggio. If he, the greatest of our people, cannot succeed
in eliminating bigotry, what chance do we have? Only a united condemnation of negative
stereotypes and an effort to create positive images will continue the progress initiated
by DiMaggio.
"The Old Man
and the Sea"
I would like to
take the great DiMaggio fishing.
They say his
father was a fisherman.
Maybe he was as
poor as we are and would understand.
-- Ernest Hemingway
DiMaggio would remember being poor
and, always the gentleman, he surely would have gone fishing with the old man, probably
bringing him luck and saving the giant marlin from the sharks. Courteous and polite,
DiMaggio rarely shirked his responsibilities as a role model despite the pressure of
constant adoration. Although he insisted on his privacy, creating for himself a sanctuary
from an admiring, but perhaps over-zealous public, he did so with a gallantry absent from
today’s "celebrities."
Many of his most endearing deeds
never became public knowledge. The Italian Tribune received a letter from former
fire chief Anthony Aiellos of Hackensack, New Jersey, shortly after DiMaggio’s death.
Anthony remembered being very depressed after a fire had claimed the lives of five
firefighters. He wrote: "My door bell rang and there was my friend, Nick
Nickolosi,
the manager of the Hasbrouck Heights Sheraton, with none other than Joe DiMaggio. Knowing
I was a fan, Nick brought Joe to my home to give me a lift. I noticed Joe didn’t look
very good and I asked if he felt O.K. and he said ‘yes.’ They stayed for about a
half-hour. As they left, I asked Joe again if he felt all right. He again said
‘yes’ and that it must have been the trip. The next day I read in the paper that
Joe was flown to Florida for aneurysm surgery. That made me appreciate the visit even
more, knowing that it must have been quite an effort for him."
Instances of this sort of
selflessness by DiMaggio were not uncommon. Noteworthy by their absence are negative
stories about DiMaggio. They simply don’t exist. Instead, additional stories about
his acts of kindness are being shared in honor of his passing. He received no publicity
for most of them. He didn’t need a camera in his face or a spotlight shining on him
to make him behave like a gentleman.
As the years pass, Joe DiMaggio
– as impossible as it seems – will grow in stature. He will become a mythic
figure, remembered as a god who walked among mortals. We’ll remember his wide batting
stance, lumber held high, eyes boring into a frightened pitcher. We’ll remember the
sight of his back to the plate, legs churning, arms outstretched, as a game-winning double
fell into his glove, becoming just a routine fly ball out. We’ll remember his
impeccable attire and how he always carried himself with a quiet reserve, whether he was
signing an autograph for a young fan in a parking lot or walking to the mound to throw out
the first pitch on another Opening Day. We’ll remember the shy grin of his youth and
the grandfatherly smile of his later days. We’ll remember the pride we felt in being
able to call this man, this hero of America and all the world, one of our own. And,
we’ll remember how he dealt with life – and death – on his own terms, with
dignity and respect, setting an example we would all do well to follow.
Farewell, Mr. DiMaggio. Wherever
the game is today, may your strides be swift, your swings mighty, and your opponents
worthy – you deserve nothing less.
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