Eric
09-07-2006, 09:36 AM
Hey everyone. There's a new book about the meaning of player jersey numbers. Here's a story from northjersey.com
Eric
Number please, it's all in the book
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
By ADITI KINKHABWALA
STAFF WRITER
Carlos Delgado didn't want to call Roger Clemens totally crazy.
Yes, back in 1997 he wore 21, the number he'd always had, because of Roberto Clemente. And yes, Delgado had put in eight years in the Blue Jays' organization by then while Clemens was a newcomer. But when the pitcher offered Delgado a $16,000 Rolex watch for his uniform number, the then-second year first baseman remembered thinking it was a little nutty.
"I wasn't expecting anything," the current Met -- and No. 21 wearer -- said. "I was just happy to have him on our team."
Rickey Henderson once paid a teammate $25,000 for his No. 24, Gary Carter had dibs on No. 8 written into his Mets contract and one batty baseball fan spent the last 15 years trolling for every story like these he could find.
"I don't think I realized exactly what an endeavor it would be," Jack Looney said, chuckling because his nutty pursuit is now a gorgeously photographed, 546-page tome on anything -- and everything -- related to baseball jersey numbers.
"Now Batting, Number ... The Mystique, Superstition and Lore of Baseball's Uniform Numbers" lists every number worn by every player on every team in every season up until 2005. But it's more -- Looney has also found which players chose their birthdays and which their idol's numbers and he discusses wild tales of how some players got stuck with certain numbers and what certain numbers were worth and he's even assembled dream teams for numbers.
A longtime Wayne resident, Looney's spent his career in publishing on the art side, ultimately serving as Random House's Vice President of Creative Services. He's dabbled in editing, producing several puzzle books including the seven million copy-selling "Simple Solution to Rubik's Cube." And he's even helped author a few puzzle books. But his dream of being a solo author began and ended with baseball.
"I don't even really like any other sports," Looney said.
As a schoolboy in Weehawken, he and his friends mimicked major league lineups on street corners, someone always playing the announcer, intoning, "Now batting, number ..." He logged 10 years as a semi-pro shortstop in Jersey City and he always loved the Cardinals, mostly because of those nicknames -- Whitey and Harry the Hat and all of them.
The idea of exploring numbers first came to Looney 30-odd years ago, but three kids (the boys are Reds fans, "a testament," Looney said, "to my democracy as a father") precluded any extra free time. In the 1970s, he found a pamphlet by George Wolf detailing Yankees' numbers and remembers thinking, "Yay!" But Wolf stopped with the one team and for the next decade, Looney would occasionally find himself pondering "how a book full of lists could be appetizing."
A bout with the flu in 1991 forced him into bed -- and into finally plotting how a jersey number book would go. He spent a week at the Hall of Fame library in Cooperstown, then put 2,000 miles on a rental car driving from camp to camp one spring training. He collected scorecards and clippings, made eBay his best friend, and interviewed equipment managers everywhere. The minutiae was endless, each successive season meant another year of numbers to pore through, but no publishers were biting.
"There were many days I wanted to walk away and throw it in the garbage," Looney admitted. "But I kept thinking about how much time I'd already invested."
He went on a tour of major league cities' libraries, feasted on microfilm and did his best to keep his wife out of the overflowing study in the couple's backyard. Then finally, this past fall, he ran into a friend at a London book fair who agreed to look at his mock-up. Another old friend plucked the mock-up off the first friend's desk and, unbeknownst to Looney, started pitching it.
Suddenly he had offers, Looney settled on one, and while he wouldn't reveal what the deal was, he would say "it was decent." After a three-month scramble to finish things, a few months of revising and a few more of waiting, "Now Batting ..." hit bookstores June 1.
Rose Carrano, publicist for publisher Black Dog, said the entire 15,000-copy first run is already out of warehouses and in stores. More than 40 radio stations, from Hawaii to Maine, have called for Looney and he even got invited onto ESPN's "Cold Pizza," where host John Kruk said yes, the book's right, he did give Mitch Williams his No. 28 for two cases of beer.
Of course, the stories just keep coming.
When Gary Cohen wondered on a Mets broadcast if the Toronto pitcher Josh Towers (No. 7) and catcher Bengie Molina (No. 8) made history's lowest combined battery, Looney went to his book, found No. 2 Chief Hogsett and No. 1 Bob Swift of the 1944 Tigers, and sent the SNY announcer a card.
Looney calls himself semiretired now, but he still consults for Random House, designing booths for international shows and book fairs. He's off to China next week and when he gets back, he's going to think more on his next project. All he'd give away on that, though, was "it won't be as crazy as this one."
Eric
Number please, it's all in the book
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
By ADITI KINKHABWALA
STAFF WRITER
Carlos Delgado didn't want to call Roger Clemens totally crazy.
Yes, back in 1997 he wore 21, the number he'd always had, because of Roberto Clemente. And yes, Delgado had put in eight years in the Blue Jays' organization by then while Clemens was a newcomer. But when the pitcher offered Delgado a $16,000 Rolex watch for his uniform number, the then-second year first baseman remembered thinking it was a little nutty.
"I wasn't expecting anything," the current Met -- and No. 21 wearer -- said. "I was just happy to have him on our team."
Rickey Henderson once paid a teammate $25,000 for his No. 24, Gary Carter had dibs on No. 8 written into his Mets contract and one batty baseball fan spent the last 15 years trolling for every story like these he could find.
"I don't think I realized exactly what an endeavor it would be," Jack Looney said, chuckling because his nutty pursuit is now a gorgeously photographed, 546-page tome on anything -- and everything -- related to baseball jersey numbers.
"Now Batting, Number ... The Mystique, Superstition and Lore of Baseball's Uniform Numbers" lists every number worn by every player on every team in every season up until 2005. But it's more -- Looney has also found which players chose their birthdays and which their idol's numbers and he discusses wild tales of how some players got stuck with certain numbers and what certain numbers were worth and he's even assembled dream teams for numbers.
A longtime Wayne resident, Looney's spent his career in publishing on the art side, ultimately serving as Random House's Vice President of Creative Services. He's dabbled in editing, producing several puzzle books including the seven million copy-selling "Simple Solution to Rubik's Cube." And he's even helped author a few puzzle books. But his dream of being a solo author began and ended with baseball.
"I don't even really like any other sports," Looney said.
As a schoolboy in Weehawken, he and his friends mimicked major league lineups on street corners, someone always playing the announcer, intoning, "Now batting, number ..." He logged 10 years as a semi-pro shortstop in Jersey City and he always loved the Cardinals, mostly because of those nicknames -- Whitey and Harry the Hat and all of them.
The idea of exploring numbers first came to Looney 30-odd years ago, but three kids (the boys are Reds fans, "a testament," Looney said, "to my democracy as a father") precluded any extra free time. In the 1970s, he found a pamphlet by George Wolf detailing Yankees' numbers and remembers thinking, "Yay!" But Wolf stopped with the one team and for the next decade, Looney would occasionally find himself pondering "how a book full of lists could be appetizing."
A bout with the flu in 1991 forced him into bed -- and into finally plotting how a jersey number book would go. He spent a week at the Hall of Fame library in Cooperstown, then put 2,000 miles on a rental car driving from camp to camp one spring training. He collected scorecards and clippings, made eBay his best friend, and interviewed equipment managers everywhere. The minutiae was endless, each successive season meant another year of numbers to pore through, but no publishers were biting.
"There were many days I wanted to walk away and throw it in the garbage," Looney admitted. "But I kept thinking about how much time I'd already invested."
He went on a tour of major league cities' libraries, feasted on microfilm and did his best to keep his wife out of the overflowing study in the couple's backyard. Then finally, this past fall, he ran into a friend at a London book fair who agreed to look at his mock-up. Another old friend plucked the mock-up off the first friend's desk and, unbeknownst to Looney, started pitching it.
Suddenly he had offers, Looney settled on one, and while he wouldn't reveal what the deal was, he would say "it was decent." After a three-month scramble to finish things, a few months of revising and a few more of waiting, "Now Batting ..." hit bookstores June 1.
Rose Carrano, publicist for publisher Black Dog, said the entire 15,000-copy first run is already out of warehouses and in stores. More than 40 radio stations, from Hawaii to Maine, have called for Looney and he even got invited onto ESPN's "Cold Pizza," where host John Kruk said yes, the book's right, he did give Mitch Williams his No. 28 for two cases of beer.
Of course, the stories just keep coming.
When Gary Cohen wondered on a Mets broadcast if the Toronto pitcher Josh Towers (No. 7) and catcher Bengie Molina (No. 8) made history's lowest combined battery, Looney went to his book, found No. 2 Chief Hogsett and No. 1 Bob Swift of the 1944 Tigers, and sent the SNY announcer a card.
Looney calls himself semiretired now, but he still consults for Random House, designing booths for international shows and book fairs. He's off to China next week and when he gets back, he's going to think more on his next project. All he'd give away on that, though, was "it won't be as crazy as this one."