A portrait of the end of an era in baseball, industry, and an American town is the story of the minor league team from Waterloo, Iowa, based on travel with the Diamonds and talks with players, owners, managers, and citizens.
Richard Panek, a Guggenheim Fellow in science writing, is the author of The 4% Universe: Dark Matter, Dark Energy, and the Race to Discover the Rest of Reality, which won the American Institute of Physics communication award in 2012, and the co-author with Temple Grandin of The Autistic Brain: Thinking Across the Spectrum, a New York Times bestseller. He lives in New York City.
This book requires an investment. Most books about baseball don’t. It is the first book by an author trained at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop who subsequently became an award winning author of books on science subjects. This one is densely written, having long wandering passages without natural breaks early on, then, like the baseball season it follows, the passages become more sure of themselves, more to the point, more sure of an ending, more climactic.
This book combines three of my favorite topics, so you know I will rate it highly. Despite the title and the fact that this is found in the sports section of the bookstore, this is a book about business -- the business of minor league baseball in one of the smallest markets in the league, a market, Waterloo, Iowa, that is quickly shrinking, leaving behind a decaying ballpark with no inclination by the mostly worse-off citizens to support through taxes. This could almost be the story of the local symphony, a small museum, the public library, or any of the civic groups that exist, at least in part, to provide local citizens reasonably priced entertainment. The issues are often the same, and the solution, in depressed small and midsized cities, often require private funding or loss. The Waterloo Diamonds are an intriguing example of this, showing where America’s pastime hits the end of the road in a community. In the business aspects of the book, this muddling to an exit is a tragedy.
Another topic covered is minor league baseball. There are the requisite stories of bus travel, issues with learning and growth, the hopes of making the next level, issues with the ballpark. Stories are from the players, coaches, front office, owners, fans, and government perspectives -- they are all covered. But Waterloo was treated by its major league parent San Diego as a bit of a dumping ground, giving up their best players to higher leagues throughout the season but not getting quality players working their way up from lower leagues. A large majority of the games described are losses, giving a heavy feel to the entire book. Lopsided win-loss records happen when major league teams use their minor league affiliates for different reasons, and Waterloo was used to focus on training a small handful of players. The baseball stories are there, but the feel is quite oppressive. There isn’t as much hope portrayed as in other minor league focused books I’ve read, and the ending is bleak. In the baseball aspects of this book, this is also a tragedy.
I also enjoy reading about the region where I grew up, near the Quad Cities. The QC shows up because they also have a minor league team in the Midwest League playing Waterloo, and the River Bandits are used as a good example of how a city (and non-local owners) can rebuild a stadium and provide a quality entertainment. Given the QC reliance on John Deere, which was also Waterloo’s large employer, I felt a kinship with Waterloo-ans, despite never having visited. Waterloo’s story sounds a lot like other cities in the upper Midwest. In this aspect of the story there is hope of redemption, as Waterloo invests in itself for the rebirth its leaders hope for.
Given the topic, I’m sure there are a handful of others that will love this book. But just a handful. The best audience, I feel, are those that are interested in the business of minor league baseball. Not the way it is currently run, but the way it was run in the 80s through the 90s, when local groups owned and civic pride prevailed, then failed. The story should resonate for other civic organizations as well, not to give hope, but to present a path travelled to failure - a cautionary tale.
This was the third, and best, of a series of four books I've read about the Midwest League. The others: Short Season (fiction) by Jerry Klinkowitz (who appears as a character in the non-fiction Waterloo Diamonds); Class A Baseball in the Middle of Everywhere, by Lucas Mann (a close second for best book). And the last of a larger series of books about the minor leagues, from summer college leagues (The Last Best League (about the Cape Cod league), to independent leagus (Slouching toward Fargo (Northern League), The Only Rule is it has to work (Pacific Association), and Play by Play (about the Atlantic League), and a couple of books about higher level affiliated teams (Bottom of the 33rd) and Where Nobody Knows Your Name.
A few themes are common to all of the books. There is a strong element of sadness in most of the books, as the story of the minor leagues is, mostly, a story of players who don't make it. The manager and coaches confront mid-life in the company of a younger generation they don't fully understand. The young generation, in turn, confronts a challenge of growing up largely among strangers in a highly competitive setting, while bearing the dreams of their families. Questions of inequality of opportunity arise as those players labeled "prospects" get every chance to succeed, if only because somebody in the organization has laid an expensive wager on them, while those not labeled "prospects" have to excel even to be noticed.
Each of the books has a different angle.
Several involve the author as a character in the scene - Lucas Mann's book is the best of these, and Neal Karlen's Slouching toward Fargo my least favorite. The Only Rule is it has to Work has a strong element of authorial involvement, but not in the same coming-of-age or coming-to-terms with middle age as some of the other books, because the authors have a reason external to themselves to spend a season studying a team -- namely, exploring the challenge of applying cutting-edge statistical analysis to minor league ball.
The Midwest League, and in particular its Iowa franchises, have the benefit (if that is what it is) of drawing the attention of some very talented writers associated with the Iowa Writers Workshop or some other Iowa institution of higher learning. Both Mann's Class A (focusing on the Clinton LumberKings) and Panek's Waterloo Diamonds, look at a team in the context of what seem to be small cities struggling with the loss of American manufacturing companies and well-paid union jobs.
Mann is particularly good in his observations of the fans.
Waterloo Diamonds follows the struggles of the team not only on the field, but more interestingly in municipal politics. The team, a struggling affiliated franchise confronts the demands of a stadium not up to contemporary standards, declining attendance, and corporate infighting.
A team tottering on the edge of solvency, just as minor league baseball changed from a small town day in the sun into a big business. The town, reeling from the loss of core industries, is trying to remake itself, but has unrealistic ideas about the economic viability of baseball. The author obviously spent time with the players, coaches, front office staff, and community "owners," but is successful in not intruding. It explores the relationship between MLB, its minor league organizations and team owners, showing it's not all one big happy family.
This book was really a struggle for me. Pretty depressing as it told the story of Waterloo, Iowa and it's Class A baseball team. Waterloo is very depressed economically and ended up losing their team in the early 1990's. This book is more about the politics and B.S. that went on in the last two or three years of the teams existence. Not much baseball. No recommendation.