Wait Till Next Year

Wait Till Next Year by Doris Kearns Goodwin

I suspect more people have probably seen Doris Kearns Goodwin on television then have read her books.  Usually, whenever a story on any major news network is focusing on an important figure of our nation’s history - usually a president, it’s not uncommon for Ms. Goodwin to be one of the panelists.  Like her writing, her observations are always very detailed, yet warm and honest.  I was surprised when she was actually one of the key figures in the Ken Burns documentary “Baseball” back in the early 1990s.  You would expect to see people reminiscing about the game such as Pedro Martinez and Bob Costas, but Doris Kearns Goodwin?  What in the heck is a presidential historian doing on a Baseball show?

Well, let’s just say the producers were wise in their choice.  Goodwin was mainly used when reminiscing about the Brooklyn Dodgers of the 1940s and 50s.  There is so much history involved surrounding that franchise at the particular time, and Goodwin was right there, growing up in Brooklyn, a huge fan of the team and the game, and like her recollections of great historical figures, she manages to wonderfully capture the essence of those glorious, yet frustrating years of being a fan of the “dem bums”.

It was after this experience with Ken Burns’ documentary that made Goodwin sit down and actually write this remembrance.   This isn’t necessarily a “baseball” book, although the sport is definitely the lead actor in this particular play.  Rather, this is just a recollection of a young girl being raised in post war Brooklyn, and what life was like during this particular time in history in one of New York’s more noted boroughs.

You could make the argument that there really isn’t that much here that is new or revealing.  This is simply a story about a young girl, and her childhood memories.  It’s easy to, at this point, not be interested in pursuing such a volume, and truth be told, this book isn’t really a “must” by any means.  Yet Doris Kearns Goodwin is, well, a brilliant story teller, so if you, or anyone you know, grew up in a similar time and a similar circumstance, this is probably as good of a book that you will find about a simple time when everyone knew the name of the town barber, all the men took the train to work into the city (women stayed home and raised families), and young fans of baseball would rush home from school to turn on the radio and listen intensely to their favorite team try, yet again, to make it to the World Series and maybe, just maybe, bring home a world championship.

There’s a lot of other things in these pages other than baseball.  Some good - close communities, the invention of television, and family trips to Jones Beach, and some not so good - racial tensions, McCarthyism, and Sputnik, just to name a few.  Yet her childhood is largely a happy one, and baseball is never pushed back in the story too far.  This was a simpler day when, especially in the streets of Brooklyn, it wasn’t that difficult to meet one of your major league heroes at an autograph signing, and come away with a cherished memory.

I can’t imagine that such a book like this would necessarily light up any bestseller list, but I’m sure that was never the point.  Like many great writers, Goodwin simply decided to take a pleasant detour and write about something near and dear to her heart, and she succeeds mightily in that aspect.